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Updated: June 7, 2025
The Bodleian has entertained Mark Twain, Joseph Jefferson, and other literary and histrionic celebrities. It possesses quite a collection of personal mementos of distinguished authors, among them a paperweight which once belonged to Goethe, a lead pencil used by Emerson, an autograph letter of Matthew Arnold, and a chip from a tree felled by Mr. Gladstone.
So, after exchanging nerveless and silent handshakes with the others, he went off to sleep at Melun. 'What a failure he is! muttered Mahoudeau. 'Music has killed painting; he'll never do anything! He himself had to leave, and the door had scarcely closed behind his back when Jory declared: 'Have you seen his last paperweight? He'll end by sculpturing sleeve-links.
It belonged to my son and it has been where it now lies ever since the storm in which his life was lost. I have not seen the inside of it since I do not want to see the inside of it," he added brusquely, moving a paperweight about on his desk. "It is only three years old," he went on after a moment's uncomfortable pause, "and like some people it is not as bad as it looks."
In half an hour more Roberta's machine stopped clicking. Swiftly she covered it, set it away in the book-cupboard, and put her table in order. She laid the typewritten sheets together upon Judge Gray's desk in a straight-edged pile, a paperweight on top.
I warn you, I shall Look there!" he broke off, furiously, leveling a shakily vehement forefinger at Lad. "Watch him! He's prowling around, even now, in search of more things to injure. He " The author finished his sentence by catching up a heavy metal paperweight and drawing it back as if for a throw. His muscles flexed. The Mistress moved, as by accident, between the raging man and the dog.
Like a flash, Dick grabbed the pistol hand of the collector, while Bert's fist shot up in a tremendous smashing uppercut. The man staggered back, and Bert and Dick were on him like a pair of wildcats. At the same instant, with all the power of his trained baseball arm, Tom had hurled the heavy paperweight straight at the outlaw captain. It caught him full between the eyes.
Except for the blue uniforms and brass buttons of the officers who belonged to the naval air service, the orderly's khaki and the bayonet from a gun used casually at the other end of the table as a paperweight, it was an ordinary English tea. It was commencing to rain outside. The rain beat on the windows and made even the reluctant fire seem cosy. Some one had had a box of candy sent from home.
Next to it were several sheets of blank paper and a small traveling clock sat on them as a paperweight. His clothing was hung neatly, in the approved regulation manner, with his shoes in their proper places and his caps all lined up in a row. Mike walked around the room, looking at everything. "What's the matter? What're you looking for?" asked Keku. "His liquor," said Mike the Angel.
I switched off the lights just as some one came to the landing outside." "Who was it? Did he come in?" asked Jack. "He rang and knocked two or three times. Then he came in. I was standing by the table with my hand on some kind of heavy metal paperweight. His hand was groping for the light switch. I could tell that.
If we hadn't had the paperweight, all the thinking in the world wouldn't have done us a bit of good." "If you hadn't had the thinking, all the paperweights in the world wouldn't have done us a bit of good," corrected Tom. "Well, there's glory enough for all," smiled the conductor.
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