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Updated: June 3, 2025
Upon one of these portraits the name of the original of which was stated at the foot of the print to be the Reverend Aaron Yollop Mr. "It's no use looking in that way, Thorpe," growled the old gentleman; "I'm not to be put down by looks at my time of life.
"Are you goin' to take them rings off peaceably?" muttered Smilk, a hunted look leaping into his eyes. "I am not," said she. "Speak a little louder, both of you," complained Mr. Yollop. "This contraption of mine doesn't seem to catch what you are saying." "Jiggle it," said Smilk brightly. "How long ago did you telephone for the police, Crittenden?" "How long ago was it, Cassius?"
He thrice postponed a business trip to Paris in order to be within reach when Cassius needed him. Then, in the fall, when things looked most propitious for a speedy termination of Smilk's suspense, the millinery business took a sudden and alarming turn for the worse and Mr. Yollop fell into the hands of the specialists.
The judge sentenced him to twenty years imprisonment at hard labor, and he went back to his cell in the Tombs, a triumphant, vindicated champion of the laws of his State, a doughty warrior carrying the banner of justice up to the very guns of sentiment. Mr. Yollop received a friendly letter from him some two months after his return to Sing Sing.
"Sometimes it is very difficult to wake them after two o'clock A.M. Just jiggle it if she doesn't respond at once. Seems that jiggling wakes them when nothing else will." Mr. Yollop, very tall and spare in his pajamas, stood behind the burly Mr. Smilk, the dangling disc almost touching the latter's hunched up shoulders. "This is a devil of a note," quoth Mr. Smilk, taking down the receiver.
Yollop, in his capacity of a moral surgeon, operate on his patient, and triumph in the responsive yells which his curative exertions elicited. At the fourth visit of attendance, however, every angry symptom suddenly and marvelously disappeared before the first significant flourish of the clerical knife. Mr. Yollop had triumphed where Mr. Thorpe had failed!
Mr. Yollop pushed a big unholstered library chair up to the opposite side of the desk and, after several awkward attempts, succeeded in sitting down, tailor fashion, with his feet neatly tucked away beneath him. "I wasn't quite sure I could do it," said he, rather proudly.
He was not too weak, however, to climb up two floors on a fire escape and pry open my window before I, " Counsel: "Now, now, now! Please answer my question?" Yollop: "He complained of being dizzy. He held his hand to his jaw. That's all I can say." Counsel: "You were pointing the revolver at him all the time, you have testified. Is that true?" Yollop: "Yes."
Suffice to say that shortly after his return to New York, Mr. Yollop paid a more or less clandestine visit to the Tombs, where he saw Cassius. This was the week before the trial was to open. He found the crook in a disconsolate frame of mind. "Don't call me Yollop," he managed to convey to the prisoner. "I gave another name to the jailer or whatever he is. Is it jail bird?
The State, bouncing up: "We object to this question. It calls for a conclusion on the part of the witness that " The Court: "Objection sustained." Counsel, glaring: "Exception." Then, after mopping his brow and consulting his notes: "Now, Mr. Yollop, you say you conversed with this defendant at some length while waiting for the police to arrive.
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