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Updated: September 26, 2025
But my luck may turn it must turn it has turned!" he exclaimed with energy, as his wandering glance suddenly fell upon a silver quarter of a dollar, nearly covered up with the dust of the street. "That shall prove a good omen!" He stooped over and picked up the coin, which he put in his vest pocket.
He was standing, without his coat and vest, on the top of a loaded wain, the very embodiment of a jovial, handsome, country gentleman. The reins were in his hand; he was going to drive home the wealthy wagon; but he stopped and stooped, and Charlotte, standing on tip-toes, handed him a glass of cream. "God love thy bonny face," he said, with a beaming smile, as he handed her back the empty glass.
On reaching the chorus she had whipped out a small, round mirror and, assisted by the calcium-light man in the rear, had thrown a wretched little spotlight on Sam's head. Ordinarily, Sam would not have minded it. But that evening, in the vest pocket just over the place where he supposed his heart to be, reposed his girl's daily letter.
Gerome thrust the key of her desk into her pocket, but a moment after, when she drew out her handkerchief, it fell on the carpet, and without observing it, she passed swiftly across the hall, and into her own apartment. As Dr. Grey lingered to secure the door, his eye fell upon the silver key on the floor; and, placing it in his vest pocket, he rejoined Salome.
At that, he'd have probably killed me, if I hadn't been wearing that bulletproof vest of McKenna's. I owe Mick for my life; I'll have to buy him a drink, sometime, to square that." "Well, how about Walters, and the pistols he stole?" Gladys asked. "Didn't that have anything to do with it?" "No. It was a result of Mr. Fleming's death, of course.
At last her feeling of unrest got too much for her, and she rose and partially, very partially, dressed herself for in the gloom she could only find her flannel vest and petticoat twisted her long hair in a coil round her head, put on a hat and a thick ulster that hung upon the door for they were running into chilly latitudes and slipped out on deck.
And he laid his hand upon the parchment in his vest pocket. Athos rose from the table and called the host in order to pay the reckoning. "Since I have known you, my friend," said D'Artagnan, "I have never discharged the reckoning. Porthos often did, Aramis sometimes, and you, you almost always drew out your purse with the dessert. I am now rich, and should like to try if it is heroic to pay."
Finally Slade reloaded, and walking up close to his victim, made some characteristic remarks and then dispatched him. The body lay there half a day, nobody venturing to touch it without orders, and then Slade detailed a party and assisted at the burial himself. But he first cut off the dead man's ears and put them in his vest pocket, where he carried them for some time with great satisfaction.
It bubbled up in his talk like effervescing soda. "Now we'll go into a committee of the whole, gentlemen, adjourn to the stable, and have a little game of 'Button, button, who's got the button? You first, Mr. Hardman. If you'll kindly shuck your coat and vest, we'll begin button-hunting." They diligently searched the miscreant without hiding anything pertaining to "J. H. begins hear."
Avoid what is called the "ruffianly style of dress" or the slouchy appearance of a half-unbottoned vest, and suspenderless pantaloons. That sort of affectation is, if possible, even more disgusting than the painfully elaborate frippery of the dandy or dude. Keep your clothes well brushed and keep them cleaned. Slight spots can be removed with a little sponge and soap and water.
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