Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 12, 2025
He fainted away. Sonet's agent and M. Sonet himself came to help Topinard to carry poor Schmucke into the marble-works hard by, where Mme. Sonet and Mme. Topinard stayed. He had seen Fraisier in conversation with Sonet's agent, and Fraisier, in his opinion, had gallows-bird written on his face. An hour later, towards half-past two o'clock, the poor, innocent German came to himself.
Wondering if I was closeted with a maniac, I looked at the book in my passive hand, and saw diagrams of various bones to me unknown, and men's names of which I was equally ignorant Mivart, Topinard, and more, but at last that of Huxley.
"One more flight!" Topinard had twice repeated since they reached the third floor. Schmucke, engulfed in his sorrow, did not so much as know whether he was going up or coming down. In another minute Topinard had opened the door; but before he appeared in his white workman's blouse Mme. Topinard's voice rang from the kitchen: "There, there! children, be quiet! here comes papa!"
Wherever he went he saw Pons, he almost thought that Pons was by his side; and so he reached the theatre just as his friend Topinard was coming out of it after a morning spent in cleaning the lamps and meditating on the manager's tyranny. "Oh, shoost der ding for me!" cried Schmucke, stopping his acquaintance. "Dopinart! you haf a lodging someveres, eh?" "Yes, sir." "A home off your own?"
"He insists that he must speak to M. Schmucke." "His name?" "His name is Topinard, he says." "I will go out to him. Sign without disturbing yourself," said Gaudissart, addressing Schmucke. "Make an end of it; I will find out what he wants with us." Gaudissart understood Fraisier; both scented danger. "Why are you here?" Gaudissart began. "So you have no mind to be cashier at the theatre?
"I have seen that plainly already; I have just prevented them from sending you to Clichy." "Gligy!" repeated Schmucke; "I do not understand." "Poor man! Well, never mind, I will come to you. Good-bye." "Goot-bye; komm again soon," said Schmucke, dropping half-dead with weariness. "Good-bye, mosieu," said Mme. Sauvage, and there was something in her tone that struck Topinard.
Professor Topinard, whose authority upon this point cannot be gainsaid, informs me that the smallest race known to him in Central Europe is that of the pre-historic people of the Lozère, who were Neolithic troglodytes, and are represented probably at the present day by some of the peoples of South Italy and Sardinia. Their average stature was about five feet two inches.
"Oh, come, what is the matter now?" he asked, banteringly. "You are attitudinizing like a traitor in a melodrama." "Traitor yourself! Why have you come meddling here? Do you want to have a hand in the master's affairs, and swindle him, eh?" "Swindle him! . . . Your very humble servant!" Topinard answered with superb disdain.
The old German went like an automaton down the road along which Pons and he had so often walked together. Wherever he went he saw Pons, he almost thought that Pons was by his side; and so he reached the theatre just as his friend Topinard was coming out of it after a morning spent in cleaning the lamps and meditating on the manager's tyranny.
Cantinet. La Sauvage dashed down in such headlong haste that the stairs trembled beneath her tread. "Monsieur!" she called, and drew him aside a few paces to point out Topinard. Topinard was just going away, proud at heart to have made some return already to the man who had done him so many kindnesses.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking