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Updated: May 27, 2025
She was looking at me so fixedly I had a slight difficulty in putting my words in good order. "It was neither, mam. I applied some of the stuff to a lawn " "A lawn, Weener?" "Y-yes, mam." "But I said " "General instructions, Miss Francis. I'm sure you didnt mean to tie my hands." Another long silence. "No, Weener I didnt mean to tie your hands."
"It's not impossible to have it by tomorrow morning. Good heavens, Weener, can't you understand? I'm not a soothsayer." Can it be some scientist I know nothing of is getting ahead of her? Very dishonorable of the government if so. Despite uncertainties wrote three more pages. August 11: Riots in Manchester and Birmingham.
Everyone was only too happy to have the oil matter concluded at any cost; and after the stenographer was ordered to resume his labors, the next witness was called. "Albert Weener!" I hope I may never again have to submit to the scrutiny of twelve such merciless eyes. I cast my own down at the brown linoleum until every stain and inkspot was impressed ineradicably on my mind.
I had intended all along to give her a small pension to keep her from want and allow her to putter around, but her irrational accusations and insults only showed her to be the kind from whom no gratitude could be expected. "I'm afraid we can be of no further use to each other." "Look here, Weener, you can't do this. The life of civilization depends on countering the Grass.
He was sipping curaçao liberally laced with applejack when he suggested we have our dinner sent in rather than leave this comfortable spot. "The fact of the matter is, Mr Weener I'm going to call you Albert if you don't mind " I said I didnt mind with all the heartiness at my command.
"I doubt if I could combine my research with your attempt to process the inoculated Cynodon dactylon. However, that would not prevent me from taking you up and using you in order to further a good cause. But I am not yet ready I shall not be ready for some time, to go directly to the Grass. That must come later. No, Weener."
The door, after a properly prudent hesitation, clicked brokenly. Miss Francis looked as though she'd added insomnia to her other abstentions, otherwise she had not changed, even to her skirt and the smudge on her left nostril. "If youve come about the icebox youre a week late. I fixed it myself," she greeted me gruffly. "Weener," I reminded her, "Albert Weener remember?
I am upset, yes, turned upsidedown and insideout by a Force not content to leave men in wrong attitudes or sinful states. But upset, I stand upright and go about my Father's business. God bless you, Mr Weener."
"You will be the new Peter Schlemihl, Weener; from now on you will go forth without a ghost and any revision essential to your puny assault upon the Republic of Letters will be done by me and God help you if I find much to do, for my life is passing and I must have time to read the immortal Hobbes before I die."
It has killed ordinary grass and some miscellaneous weeds and that's all I can say so far. What it will do to inoculated Cynodon dactylon I have no more idea than you." "But youre going to try it on the Grass immediately?" "No, I'm not," she answered shortly. "Why not?" "Weener, either leave these things in my hands or else go do them yourself. You annoy me."
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