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Yollop by George Barr McCutcheon
page 6 of 100 (06%)
into a clinch with me, and me holdin' a gun, and weighin' forty
pounds more than you do, I--Can you hear what I'm saying?"

"Perfectly. It's a wonderful invention," said Mr. Yollop, who had
approached to within four or five feet of the speaker and was
bending over to afford him every facility for planting his words
squarely upon the disc. "Speak in the same tone of voice that you
would employ if I were about thirty feet away and perfectly sound of
hearing. Just imagine, if you can, that I am out in the hall, with
the door open, and you are carrying on a conversation with me at
that--"

"I've said all I want to say," growled the other sullenly.

"What is your name?"

"None of your damn business."

Mr. Yollop was silent for a moment. Then he inquired steadily:

"Have you any recollection of receiving a blow on the jaw, and
subsequently lying on the flat of your back with my knees jouncing
up and down on your stomach while your bump of amativeness was being
roughly and somewhat regularly pounded against the wall in response
to a certain nervous and uncontrollable movement of my hands which
happened to be squeezing your windpipe so tightly that your
tongue hung out and--"

"You bet I remember it!" ruefully.

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