Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 13, 2025
You occasionally saw one of them strolling home with her. Sometimes she went driving with one of them of a Sunday afternoon. And she rather enjoyed taking Sunday dinner at the Burke Hotel with a favored friend. She thought those small-town hotel Sunday dinners the last word in elegance.
I was the city staff of a small-town daily paper, and what with dodging round gathering up items about people to write for the paper and then dodging round to avoid personal contact with the people I had written the items about for the paper, I was kept pretty constantly upon the go.
They were seated presently in the unaired plush-and-cherry, Nottingham-and-Axminster parlor of a small-town hotel. "Hester," he said, "you're like a vision come to earth." "I'm a bad durl," she said, challenging his eyes for what he knew. "You're a little saint walked down and leaving an empty pedestal in my dreams." She placed her forefinger over his mouth. "Sh-h!" she said.
The village grogshop, the bar of the smalltown hotel, in America has presented little but the gross and degrading aspect of drinking. Prohibition has meant, to the average farmer, the abolition of the village groggery and the small-town barroom.
She felt a personal pride in Emma McChesney's work, her success, her clean reputation, her life of self-denial for her son Jock. When Ethel Morrissey was planned by her Maker, she had not been meant to be wasted on the skirt-and-suit department of a small-town store. That broad, gracious breast had been planned as a resting-place for heads in need of comfort.
Those formal phrases, the very flower of small-town proprieties, and the flat commonplaces, nearly all hypocritical in their origin, became very funny, very engaging, when they were uttered in Lena's soft voice, with her caressing intonation and arch naivete. Nothing could be more diverting than to hear Lena, who was almost as candid as Nature, call a leg a 'limb' or a house a 'home.
Why can't they leave you alone?” I asked two of the Falls men I knew if their sex would have acted the same as the girls, had it been two men going off for a two months' treat. “You bet,” they answered. “It's your darn small-town jealousy, and not just female at all.” Suppose, then, on top of all the drawbacks of small-town life, the girls had to work under big-city factory conditions?
That bestial face, with the eyes of a small-town ursurer and the sly psalm-singing mouth that butter wouldn't melt in, has often arrested me. Foucquet depicts a debauched priest who has a bad cold and has been drinking sour wine.
Their ground floor shops were all occupied by laundries with one exception a green-painted store front typical of a small-town hair-dresser. Its shop windows were full of variously colored flasks. It lighted up this drab corner with the gay brightness of its copper bowls which were always shining.
The surface might appear commonplace ordinary men of the state of Illinois going here and there simple farmers and small-town senators and representatives conferring and meditating and wondering what they could do yet a jungle-like complexity was present, a dark, rank growth of horrific but avid life life at the full, life knife in hand, life blazing with courage and dripping at the jaws with hunger.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking