Louis Trimble

Summary

Louis Trimble,  Probability

“ Me, Mike Murphy?"
"You," he says. "We just go on a different time track from the one we tried before. And this one ought to work." He gives me his grin. "You should see the history books about the year 2000. You're a real national hero, Mike."
I throw my apron into a corner and roll down my sleeves. I'm ready.
And it goes just like Rabelais says. I pass up the mayor's job and go straight to Congress. In my third term I get a chance to cool those two excitable characters—cool them politically, that is, and I do.
”
Source: Gutenberg

Louis Trimble,  Probability

“ He looks around as if he's scared a prohibition agent will pop out of the walls and bite him. Then he gets up his nerve and sidles to the bar. His voice is as thin as the rest of him.
"Glass of beer."
I draw. He drinks and pays and goes out.
That keeps on, Monday through Friday at five-ten p.m., year in and year out. He slips in, peers around, has his beer, and pops out.
”
Source: Gutenberg

Louis Trimble,  Probability

“ Tasting his beer, he says, "I'll be married this time tomorrow." I often wonder what his wife looks like but I never see her. Not even when it gets decent for ladies to come in, she never shows. Marriage doesn't seem to change him; he never looks happier or less shabby or less browbeat. ”
Source: Gutenberg

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature