Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 29, 2025
While the man was at the telephone Jimmy Stiles knocked on the door to report that he had delivered the satchel safely to its destination. It was an amazed youth who was yanked unceremoniously into the room by the coat-collar while the irate Nickleby blazed forth anew. He took hold of the bookkeeper's shoulders and was shaking the frightened young man in speechless fury when Podmore came in.
On the night train, eh?" He hesitated a moment and then asked. "Cap'n Lote fetch you down from the depot?" Albert stared at him open-mouthed. "Why, no!" he retorted. "You drove me down yourself." For the first time a slight shade of embarrassment crossed the bookkeeper's features. He drew a long breath. "Yes," he mused. "Yes, yes, yes.
When he was thirty-four, he married on June 1, 1619, a girl named Magdalena, who is described as "Christian Wildeck of Saxony's land steward's bookkeeper's daughter," which description Hawkins compares to that of "Pontius Pilate's wife's chambermaid's sister's hat." She died six years later, having borne him two daughters.
Comer, in his weekly talks to the office force, had repeatedly said so whence the origin of the bookkeeper's warmed-over wisdom but Mitchell's duties were so simple and so constricted as to allow no opening for science, or so, at least, it seemed to him.
Against the wall of what had been once a bedroom in the house of the leading citizen of the town, which was his office, he had an improvised bookkeeper's desk and on it were the mapped plans of the afternoon's operation, which he had worked over with the diligence and professional earnestness of an architect over his blue prints.
At the same time, the methodical bookkeeper's habit of thought and his clear-sightedness in business were a thousand leagues from that absent-minded, flighty character, half-artist, half-inventor. He judged him by himself, having no conception of the condition of a man with the disease of invention, absorbed by a fixed idea. Such men are somnambulists.
Along the path skirting the edge of the bluff Albert strolled, his hands in his pockets and his thoughts almost anywhere except on the picnic and the picnickers of the South Harniss Congregational Church. His particular mood on this day was one of discontent and rebellion against the fate which had sentenced him to the assistant bookkeeper's position in the office of Z. Snow and Co.
In those days there were no machines to simplify and verify the bookkeeper's treadmill task, and business hours were never over. Joel left word at Luke's home for Luke to call for him the minute he was free. He did not come that evening, nor the next. Joel was hurt more than he dared admit. It was Sunday afternoon before Luke came round, a different Luke, a lean, wan, worn-out shred of a youth.
Price's recent remark concerning the missing bookkeeper's "good start" came to Albert's mind and he smiled, slightly. "I should say not," he observed, with delicate irony. "Is Issy I mean Mr. Price, busy?" "He's out in the yard there somewhere, I believe. Would you like to have me call him?" "Why, yes if you please sir." The "sir" was flattering, if it was sincere. He glanced at her.
The G'ints have picked a bunch of shines this season. T. A. Junior's got a new sixty-power auto. Genevieve that yella-headed steno was married last month to Henry, the shipping clerk. My wife presented me with twin girls Monday. Well, thank you, Mrs. McChesney. I guess that'll help some." Emma McChesney swung down the hall and into the big, bright office. She paused at the head bookkeeper's desk.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking