Explore "Make or Break" by Oliver Optic on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
From the tin kettle, which Maggie had placed by the stove, there arose an odor of fried sausages -- a savory mess to a hungry man, possessed of a reasonable amount of confidence in the integrity and conscientiousness of sausage-makers in general. Andre made himself as useful as possible to his employers, and they could not well spare him in the middle of the day to go home to his dinner, for during 'change hours the shop was full of customers. If there was a lull any time before three o'clock, he ate the contents of the tin pail; if not, he dined at a fashionable hour.
Andre could not well be spared, because there were certain dignified men, presidents of banks and insurance companies, venerable personages with a hold upon the last generation, who came from their homes in the middle of the day to read the newspapers at the "China," or the "Fireman; " staid old merchants, who had retired from active life, and went to the counting-room only to look after the junior partners -- men who always shaved down town, and would not let any barber but Andre touch their faces. His hand was so soft and silky, his touch so tender and delicate, and his razors were so keen and skilfully handled, that he was a favorite in the shop.