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Updated: June 3, 2025
"State your name and occupation, please," said the State's attorney, advancing a few paces toward the witness stand. "My name is Crittenden Yollop. I am in the millinery business." The State: "Where do you reside?" Yollop: "418 Sagamore Terrace." The State: "In an apartment?" Yollop: "A little louder, if you please." The State, raising its voice: "Repeat the question, Mr. Stenographer."
"To be perfectly honest with you, Mr. Moppup, I " "Yollop, please." " Yollop, I found this money in front of a theater up town, just after the police nabbed a friend of mine who had frisked some guy of his roll and had to drop it in a hurry." "And you want me to keep it for you till you are free again, is that it?"
Yollop: I know a girl that would be tickled to death to have these things to splash around in. She's a peach of a say, I believe I'll use your telephone again. I'll call her up and see how she feels about it. If she says she'd like to have 'em, I'll make my getaway before the cops " "You will find the telephone directory hanging on the end of the desk, Cassius," said Mr. Yollop graciously.
I can't make out half what you say. Sounds like 'ollo ollo ollo'!" The thief opened his mouth and with his tongue instituted a visible search for the obstruction that appeared to annoy Mr. Yollop. "They're all here except the one I had pulled last year," he announced vastly relieved.
A light, hesitating rap on the library door interrupted Mr. Smilk's bitter reflection. "Some one at the door," the burglar announced, after a moment. Mr. Yollop had failed to hear the tapping. "You can't fool me, Cassius. It's an old trick but it won't work. I've seen it done on the stage too many times to be caught napping by, " "There it goes again.
"Suppose it should be my father!" cried Zack, suddenly turning round on his knees with a very blank face. "Or that infernal old Yollop, with his gooseberry eyes and his hands full of tracts. They're both of them quite equal to coming after me and spoiling my pleasure here, just as they spoil it everywhere else." "Hush!" said Mrs. Blyth. "The visitor has come in, whoever it is. It can't be Mr.
Come along over here and close this window you left open." Mr. Smilk in closing the window, looked searchingly up and down the fire escape, peered intently into the street below, sighed profoundly and muttered something that Mr. Yollop did not hear. "I've got a fur coat hanging in that closet over there, Cassius. We will get it out." Carefully following Mr.
Thorpe, looking and speaking straight at the portrait of the Reverend Aaron Yollop. "You can't fob me off with long words, which I don't understand, and which I don't believe you can find in Johnson's Dictionary," continued Mr. Goodworth doggedly. "You would do much better to take my advice, and let Zack go to church, for the present, at his mother's knees.
A lot of poor devils are forced to go out and risk their lives tryin' to " "Just a moment, please," interrupted Mr. Yollop. "You are talking a trifle too fast, Cassius. Moderate your speed a little. Before we go any further, I would like to be set straight on one point. Do you mean to tell me that you actually prefer being in prison?" "Well, now, that's a difficult question to answer," mused Mr.
In the first place, Mr. Yollop knew nothing about firearms. And so, after he had overpowered the burglar and relieved him of a fully loaded thirty-eight, he was singularly unimpressed by the following tribute from the bewildered and somewhat exasperated captive: "Say, ain't you got any more sense than to tackle a man with a gun, you chuckle-headed idiot?"
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