Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 18, 2025
He saw how hideous it was in the retrospect, and he shuddered; his good instincts awoke, and put forth their strength, such as it was; tears came into his eyes; he resolved to write to Kinney and exonerate Ricker, he resolved humbly to beg Ricker's pardon.
"This is from Ricker," he said, opening the other. "If you'll excuse me," and he began to read it. "Well, that is all right," he said, when he had run it through. "He can manage without me a little while longer; but a few more days like this will put an end to my loafing. I begin to feel like work, for the first time since I came up here."
You could do it or I could do it for you. You don't expect to let Mis' Sykes hev the Sodality here, do you?" "I might have had it here," I said impulsively, "if she had not done this to poor little Mrs. Ricker." "Would would you give me the lief to say that?" Calliope asked demurely.
In the preparation for the two events, the one unconcerned and unconsulted appeared to be the débutante herself. We never said "Emerel's party"; we all said "Mis' Ricker's party." We knew that Mrs. Ricker and Kitton was putting painstaking care on Emerel's coming-out dress, which was to be a surprise, but otherwise Emerel was seldom even mentioned in connection with her début.
"One thing, I know," said Bartley, with a certain effect of virtue, "nobody should buy or sell me; and the advertising element shouldn't spread beyond the advertising page." "Isn't that rather high ground?" inquired Ricker. Bartley did not think it worth while to answer. "I don't believe that a newspaper is obliged to be superior in tone to the community," he said. "I quite agree with you."
"What beats me," said Hiram, "is how he knew all about the Ricker family." "Simple enough," said Strout with a sneer, "That ass Abner told him the whole business. He never could keep his mouth shet. That's the reason I wouldn't give him a job in this store." Mr. Strout extinguished some of the lights, locked the door, and resumed his seat by the stove. "Ain't you going home?" asked Hiram.
"Everything tastes like so much chips to me when I hev company, anyhow," the hostess said sadly, "but to-night it's got the regular salt-pork taste. When I'm nervous or got delegates or comin' down with anything, I always taste salt pork." "Well, everything's all of a whirl to me," Calliope confessed, "an' I should think your brains, Mis' Ricker, 'd be fair rarin' 'round in your head."
Ricker laughed with him, and they fell to upon their oysters. When they parted, Bartley still found himself wakeful. He knew that he should not sleep if he went home, and he said to himself that he could not walk about all night. He turned into a gayly-lighted basement, and asked for something in the way of a nightcap.
Richard Ricker, asked sneeringly: "What asylum did you come from?" "I beg your pardon," said the stranger. "I used to know Mr. Maxwell, and they told me in the city that he was a member of the firm of Strout and Maxwell." "Who told ye?" "The trustees of the estate of Mr. Sawyer. Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer. Did you know him?" "I never knew any good of him. So they told yer, did they?
Nevertheless, if Bartley had his heart set upon a basis, Ricker wanted him to have it. "Of course," he said, "I was only joking about the basis. But if Witherby should have something permanent to offer, don't quarrel with your bread and butter, and don't hold yourself too cheap. Witherby's going to get all he can, for as little as he can, every time." Ricker was a newspaper man in every breath.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking