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Updated: June 21, 2025
I wouldn't feel comfortable parading a free-scanning decision-capable Mark 6 tickler in front of people who can't buy it until it goes on open sale at twenty-two fifteen tonight. Lot of shelterfolk won't be sleeping tonight. They'll be queued up to trade in their old tickler for a Mark 6 almost as good as Pooh-Bah."
"Well, Uncle Pomp," said Diddie, "you stay here just as long as you can, an' I'll ask papa to see Mr. Tight-fis' Smith, an' he'll get " "Lor', chile," interrupted Uncle Pomp, "don't tell yer pa nuf'n 'boutn it; he'll sho' ter sen' me back, an' dat man'll beat me half ter def; caze I'se mos' loss er week's time now, an' hit's er mighty 'tickler time in de crap."
The general seemed a little chary of this big document, and took it in his fingers somewhat reluctantly. And as he did so, Mr. Tickler, who until then had remained silent, spoke up and said, "By my faith, gentlemen, had the matter been left to me, they should have had proof of my knowledge of Latin in the sentences, for I have heard it said that Secretaries of State are fond of it.
"Ben Stretcher, that is my name, which, perhaps, is familiar enough to you, being so well known in Washington." "Lord bless me! why, the name is familiar enough, God knows; and it'll not be sayin' much to tell you that my own name is Orlando Tickler, a critic who has fame enough in New York, and of whom I take it you have heard mention."
Of course he'll have to do them eventually but meanwhile the pressure's off him, the hook's out of his short hairs. He's shifted the responsibility...." "Well, what's so bad about that?" Fay broke in loudly. "What's wrong with taking the pressure off little guys? Why shouldn't Tickler be a super-ego surrogate?
In order not to lose time in paying his respects to so distinguished a general, and a gentleman who, no doubt, had important business with Congress, where his services might find employment, Ben took the earliest opportunity to make a formal call one day; but finding only Mr. Tickler at home, he relieved his disappointment in a colloquy, which will be recorded in the next chapter.
Abe exclaimed, and then, for the first time since he saw the silk foulards, he remembered Interstate Copper. "I was to Wasserbauer's Restaurant for lunch," Morris continued, "and in the café I seen that thing what the baseball comes out of it, Abe." "The tickler," Abe croaked. "That's it," Morris went on.
Suddenly discovering the condition he was in, he picked up the gown, had it about him in a trice, and was for offering no end of apologies, which Tickler put an end to by assuring him, that although Angelio's blushes were all the results of innocence, she was by no means prudish.
At first we had the Tickler variety as previously described; since then we have used the "hair-brush" and others, but to-day we are using the standardized Mill hand grenade. I can never forget the first bomb that was thrown from our trench. Volunteers were asked for this new and risky job.
While then he was sitting puzzling his brain how to get a secretary who could manage the newspapers and attend to the duties of his office, and was ready to believe that Mr. Tickler had been foully murdered, that gentleman made his appearance, and gave so strange an excuse for his absence that I must beg the reader to turn to the next chapter, where he will find it faithfully recorded.
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