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Updated: August 26, 2024
Fyshe, "and of course your land was more desirable from every point of view. Schwefeldampf's ground is encumbered with a growth of cypress and evergreens and weeping willows which make it quite unsuitable for an up-to-date cemetery; whereas yours, as I remember it, is bright and open a loose sandy soil with no trees and very little grass to overcome." "Yes," said Mr. Furlong.
It was astonishing in fact how rapidly the light spread. "Is Rasselyer-Brown with us?" asked someone of Mr. Fyshe a few days later. "Heart and soul," answered Mr. Fyshe. "He's very bitter over the way these rascals have been plundering the city on its coal supply. He says that the city has been buying coal wholesale at the pit mouth at three fifty utterly worthless stuff, he tells me.
It seemed to him a modest, quiet place, very different from the staring ostentation that one sees too often in a German hof or an Italian palazzo. He liked it. Mr. Fyshe and Mr. Furlong were standing in a deep alcove or bay where there was a fire and india-rubber trees and pictures with shaded lights and a whiskey-and-soda table. There the Duke joined them. Mr.
Fyshe. "He is staying at the Grand Palaver. I sent a telegram through one of our New York directors of the Traction, and his Grace has very kindly promised to come over here to dine." "Is he here for pleasure?" asked the rector. "I understand he is " Mr. Fyshe was going to say "about to invest a large part of his fortune in American securities," but he thought better of it.
This first meeting was, of course, confidential. But all that it did was presently done over again, with wonderful freshness and spontaneity at a large public meeting open to all citizens. There was a splendid impromptu air about everything. For instance when somebody away back in the hall said, "I move that Mr. Lucullus Fyshe be president of the league," Mr.
Fyshe thoughtfully, "it's the same thing as what we called 'permissible policy' on the part of directors in the Tin Pot Combination." "Exactly," assented Mr. Skinyer, "and it means that for the merger we need nothing I state it very frankly except general consent." The preliminary stages of the making of the merger followed along familiar business lines. The trustees of St.
But if he could have seen what was happening below in the kitchens of the Mausoleum Club, Mr. Fyshe would have realized that just then it was turning into a most uncomfortable place.
This was organized by a group of leading and disinterested citizens who held their first meeting in the largest upstairs room of the Mausoleum Club. Mr. Lucullus Fyshe, Mr. Boulder, and others keenly interested in obtaining simply justice for the stockholders of the Traction and the Citizens' Light were prominent from the start. Mr. Rasselyer-Brown, Mr.
Boomer an intimate acquaintance with the pedigree and fortunes of the greater ducal families from Jock of Ealing downwards was nothing. It went without saying. As beside the Neanderthal skull and the Bimbaweh ruins it didn't count. Mr. Fyshe stopped absolutely still in his tracks. "His financial position?" he questioned, quick as a lynx. "Certainly," said Dr.
Lucullus Fyshe traded off a quarter of his stock to an unwary member of the Mausoleum Club at a drop of thirty per cent, and being too prudent to hold the rest on any terms, he conveyed it at once as a benefaction in trust to the Plutorian Orphans' and Foundlings' Home; while the purchaser of Mr.
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