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Updated: May 25, 2025
Miss Timson lived, as it wuz her wish, and often her boast, right under the droppin's of the sanctuary. She lotted on it when she bought the place. The Baptist steeple towered up right by the side of her house. Her spare bed wuz immegietly under the steeple.
It was decided between Timson and our friend that on the following day the latter should undertake the office work under supervision, and the next morning John was engaged upon the preliminaries of the day's business when his employer came in and seated himself at his desk in the back room. After a few minutes, in which he was busy with his letters, he appeared in the doorway of the front room.
Of course, the warden of the prison had never seen Travis, hadn't the slightest idea what he looked like. But in order to be on the safe side, the deputy insisted that Beard get someone who resembled Whitmore, alias Travis, in general appearances. For a week Beard searched and finally lit on Timson.
Robinson instantly arrived at the determination that the stranger was "stuck up," but was in no degree cast down thereby. "I heard Chet Timson tellin' that the' was a feller comin' f'm N'York to work in Dave Harum's bank. Guess you're him, ain't ye?" No answer this time: theory confirmed. "My name's Robinson," imparted that individual. "I run the prince'ple liv'ry to Homeville."
‘Now don’t stare at that idiot in the corner,’ angrily exclaimed Parsons, as the extraordinary convulsions of Watkins Tottle’s countenance excited the wondering gaze of Timson,—‘but have the goodness to tell me in three words the contents of that note?’ ‘This note,’ replied Timson, ‘is from Miss Lillerton, to whom I have been for the last five weeks regularly engaged.
Watkins Tottle, in an under-tone. ‘I dote on her with enthusiasm already!’ replied Mr. Watkins Tottle. ‘Gentlemen, pray let us drink “the ladies,”’ said the Reverend Mr. Timson. ‘The ladies!’ said Mr. Watkins Tottle, emptying his glass. In the fulness of his confidence, he felt as if he could make love to a dozen ladies, off-hand. ‘Ah!’ said Mr.
Chancing-for God knows what mystery of reason-to be born one of those having power, one might perhaps set in order a world like Kedgers'. "In the course of twenty years' work under Timson," she said, "you must have learned a great deal from him." "A good bit, miss-a good bit," admitted Kedgers. "If I hadn't ha' cared for the work, I might ha' gone on doing it with my eyes shut, but I didn't. Mr.
But sometimes tears will lie heavy and scalding as molten lead in the brain, until at length they force their way through to the light. And Milly after blowing her nose a good deal, as she mechanically turned the pages of Mommsen, at length laid her arms on the book and transferred her handkerchief to her eyes. But she tried to look as though she were reading when Flora Timson came in.
Be you goin' to work fer him?" he asked, encouraged to press the question. "Goin' to take Timson's place?" "Really," said John, in a tone which advanced Mr. Robinson's opinion to a rooted conviction, "I have never heard of Mr. Timson." "He's the feller that Dave's lettin' go," explained Mr. Robinson.
"I believe I've followed what you've been saying, Miss Timson," said Lady Thomson, in her fullest tones; "and I can assure you I feel under no necessity to become either a materialist or an idiot in consequence." Ian spoke again. "I don't profess to be scientific, but I do seem to see another possible line, running parallel with yours, but not quite the same.
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