human
In loving memory of the late Tom Van Dorn, Recently engaged. For here, kind friends, we all must lie; Turn, Sinner, turn before ye die! _Take_ one.
gpt
Well, Amos, piped the Doctor,
human
Well, Doc Jim, I couldn't seem to get Lincoln to-day. But I did have a nice chat with Beecher last night and he said: 'Your friend, Dr. Nesbit, I observe, is a low church Congregationalist.' And when I asked what he meant Beecher replied, 'High church Congregationalists believe in New England; low church Congregationalists believe in God!' Sounds like him--I could just see him twitching his lips and twinkling his eyes when it came!
gpt
And I'll tell you another thing--Mr. Left is coming regularly now.
human
Mr. Left?
gpt
Yes, explained the editor carefully,
human
I was telling the Doctor last week that if I go into a dark room and blindfold myself and put a pencil in my left hand, a control who calls himself Mr. Left comes and writes messages from the Other Side.
gpt
Any more sense to 'em than your crazy planchette?
human
Read our editorial this week on President Cleveland and the Money Power? he asked. The Captain nodded.
gpt
Mr. Left got it without the scratch of a 't' or the dot of an 'i' from Samuel J. Tilden.
human
Humph! snorted the Doctor in his high, thin voice,
gpt
Old Tilden seems to have got terribly chummy with Karl Marx in the last two years.
human
Well, I didn't write it, and Mary says it's not even like my handwrite. And that reminds me, Doctor, I got to get her prescription filled again. That tonic you give her seems to be kind of wearing off. The baby you know-- he stopped a moment vaguely.
gpt
Someway she doesn't seem strong.
human
All right, Amos--we'll fix up something for Mary a little later. Now, George--get out that Fourth Ward voters' list and let's get to work!
gpt
Good evening, gentlemen,
human
I may, he said, lapsing into the poetry that came welling from his memory and marked him for a drunken fool,
gpt
I may, opening his ardent eyes and glancing affectionately about,
human
he grinned with wide amiability,
gpt
His eyes flashed nervously about the shop, resting upon nothing, seeing everything. He spied Grant,
human
Hello, Red, exclaimed Mr. Fenn,
gpt
As he nourished his silk hat he saw the consternation on Brotherton's big, moon face. Walking behind the counter he clapped both hands down on Brotherton's big shoulders.
human
Georgy, Georgy,
gpt
Old story, Georgy. Fight--fight, fight, then just a little, just a very little surrender; not going to give in, but just a nip for old sake's sake. Whoo-oo-oo-oo-p the skyrocket blazes and is gone, and then just another nip to cool the first and then a God damn big drink and--and--