Yollop by George Barr McCutcheon
page 6 of 100 (06%)
page 6 of 100 (06%)
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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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