by Richard Connell
Out of the bathtub, rubicund and rotund, stepped Mr. Ambrose Pottle. He anointed his hair with sweet spirits of lilac and dusted his anatomy with crushed rosebud talcum. He donned a virgin union suit; a pair of … Read the rest
Category: Richard Connell
Mr. Pottle And Pageantry
by Richard Connell
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“He wouldn’t give a cent,” announced Mrs. Pottle, blotting up the nucleus of a tear on her cheek with the tip of her gloved finger. “‘Not one red cent,’ was the way he put it.”
“What … Read the rest
Mr. Pottle And The One Man Dog
by Richard Connell
“Ambrose! Ambrose dear!” The new Mrs. Pottle put down the book she was reading–Volume Dec to Erd of the encyclopedia.
“Yes, Blossom dear.” Mr. Pottle’s tone was fraught with the tender solicitude of the recently wed. He … Read the rest