Explore "The Rambler Club's Aeroplane" by W. Crispin Sheppard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"I tell you, Cranny, it's simply impossible to do anything with that boy; he hasn't a bit of energy. Whenever my back is turned, he's idling away his time. I do wish to goodness I could wash my hands of him."
Mr. Bolton Beaumont, real estate agent of Tacoma, Washington, paced the floor of the office, his round, good-natured face wearing a most gloomy and disturbed expression. Mr. Beaumont was a large man -- large in all dimensions -- height, breadth and rotundity. The light, too, which, in spite of his present displeasure, shone from a pair of keen gray eyes, indicated a kindly, sympathetic disposition.