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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Yes, ma'am, I've riz ten children but none of 'em was like him I trained 'em up to the minute!" Mr. Slosson seemed to have passed completely under the spell of his domestic recollections, for he continued with just a touch of reminiscent sadness in his tone. "There was all told four Mrs.
He ended up finally in Fanny's office, no longer a dingy and undesirable corner, but a quietly brisk center that sent out vibrations over the entire plant. Slosson, incidentally, was no longer of the infants' wear. He had been transferred to a subordinate position in the grocery section. "Well," said Fanny, seating herself at her desk, and smiling radiantly upon her brother.
"Scandal must never darken the soot of that village." He turned as Slosson, the press-agent of the show, entered with a bundle of photographs. "Here are the new pictures of Lorelei for your story, old man," Mr. Slosson said. "Bergman will appreciate the boost for one of his girls. Help yourself to those you want. If you need any more stuff I'll supply it.
And because he was angry with himself he determined to make matters as unpleasant as possible for the innocent Mr. Slosson, who was so used to bullying, and so well paid for bullying that really no blame could be apportioned to him. It would have been as reasonable to censure an ordinary person for breathing as to censure Mr. Slosson for bullying.
Edward Henry breathed to himself, "This is the genuine article." And, being an Englishman, he was far more impressed by Mr. Wrissell than he had been by the much vaster reputations of Rose Euclid, Seven Sachs and Mr. Slosson, senior. At the same time he inwardly fought against Mr.
"If I don't find him in Memphis I'll take the back track to No'th Carolina, stoppin' on the way to see that man Slosson." "Well, I 'low there's a fit comin' to him when he gets sight of you!" and Cavendish's bleached blue eyes sparkled at the thought. "There's a heap mo' than a fit. I don't bear malice, but I stay mad a long time," answered Yancy grimly: "You shouldn't talk no mo'," said Polly.
"Sure," responded Private Slosson nonchalantly. "I've heard about the stuff, too," nodded Private Kelly. "Only yesterday I heard one native talking about it to another." For twenty minutes Hal read on, paying no attention to the chatter of soldiers about him. Then a bugle blew, and Hal closed his book with a snap.
Fanny had slaved over it, hampered by Slosson. Fenger had given her practically a free hand. Results would not come in for many days. The Christmas trade would not tell the tale, for that was always a time of abnormal business. The dull season following the holiday rush would show the real returns. Slosson was discouragement itself.
As his eyes rested on Murrell, that gentleman raised the first three fingers of his right hand. The gesture was ever so little, yet it seemed to have a tonic effect on Mr. Slosson. What might have developed into a smile had he not immediately suppressed it, twisted his bearded lips as he made an answering movement. "Eph, come here, you!" Slosson raised his voice.
Turning, he saw Slosson and his men clearly. Surprise and consternation was depicted on each face. The light increased. From the flat stone hearth of the raft ascended a tall column of flame which rendered visible six pygmy figures, tow-headed and wonderfully vocal, who were toiling like mad at the huge sweeps. The light showed more than this.
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