Personality Plus: Some Experiences of Emma Mcchesney and Her Son, Jock, Buy on Amazon

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Personality Plus: Some Experiences of Emma Mcchesney and Her Son, Jock,

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Book Details

Author(s)Edna Ferber
ISBN / ASINB002JM1YLQ
ISBN-13978B002JM1YL7
AvailabilityUsually ships in 24 hours
MarketplaceUnited States  🇺🇸

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Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: Ill DICTATED BUT NOT READ ABOUT the time that Jock McChesney began to carry a yellow walking-stick down to work each morning his mother noticed a growing tendency on his part to patronize her. Now Mrs. Emma McChesney, successful, capable business woman that she was, could afford to regard her young son's attitude with a quiet and deep amusement. In twelve years Emma McChesney had risen from the humble position of stenographer in the office of the T. A. Buck Featherloom Petticoat Company to the secretaryship of the firm. So when her young son, backed by the profound business knowledge gained in his one year with the Berg, Shriner Advertising Company, hinted gently that her methods and training were archaic, ineffectual, and lacking in those twin condiments known to the twentieth century as pep and ginger, she would listen, eyebrows raised, lower lip caught " Jock McChesney began to carry a yellow walking- stick down to work "— Page 58 between her teeth — a trick which gives a distorted expression to the features, calculated to hide any lurking tendency to grin. Besides, though Emma McChesney was forty she looked thirty-two (as business women do), and knew it. Her hard-working life had brought her in contact with people, and things, and events, and had kept her young. " Thank fortune! " Mrs. McChesney often said, " that I wasn't cursed with a life of ease. These massage-at-ten-fitting-at-eleven-bridge-at- one women always look such hags at thirty- five." But repetition will ruin the rarest of jokes. As the weeks went on and Jock's attitude persisted, the twinkle in Emma McChesney's eye died. The glow of growing resentment began to burn in its place. Now and then there crept into her eyes a little look of doubt and bewilderment. You sometimes see that same little s...

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