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He remembered that it had been different when his first book had come out two years ago. They had read that; they had snatched at all the reviews of it and read it again, trying to see what it was that they had missed. They had taken each other aside, and it had been: "Anthony, do you understand Michael's poems?" "Dorothy, do you understand Michael's poems?"
When this result was announced, Anna Dickinson wrote Miss Anthony: My blood boiled, my nerves thrilled, as I read from day to day the reports of the convention debate. Reasons urged for the enfranchisement of paupers, of idiots, of the ignorant, the degraded, the infamous none for women!
"Do ye know," she said, slowly, clasping the hands long shorn of the vagabond gloves "do ye know I've told so many lies these last two days I think I'll bide yonder for a bit, and see can Saint Anthony lift the sins from me. 'Twould make the rest o' the road less burdensome don't ye think?"
I do hope " She descended upon Harrison Smith and wrung him warmly by both hands "I do hope you agree with me that the Roman influence is most dangerous." And before he had time to reply "Ah, but I wish you had known Anthony when he was a little boy and wore sailor suits white on Sundays with a cord and a whistle round his neck.
His honors, his influence, and his political knowledge were inherited by his son, Anthony Perenot, who in his early years gave proofs of the great capacity which subsequently opened to him so distinguished a career. Anthony had cultivated at several colleges the talents with which nature had so lavishly endowed him, and in some respects had an advantage over his father.
They did not appear till nightfall. When Anthony came into the room, he took no greetings and gave none. He sat down on the first chair by the door, shaking his head, with vacant eyes. Rhoda took off her bonnet, and sat as strangely silent. In vain Mrs. Sumfit asked her; "Shall it be tea, dear, and a little cold meat?" The two dumb figures were separately interrogated, but they had no answer.
Had she been less in love with Anthony her sense of the flight of time would have expressed itself in a reawakened interest in other men, in a deliberate intention of extracting a transient gleam of romance from every potential lover who glanced at her with lowered brows over a shining dinner table. She said to Anthony one day: "How I feel is that if I wanted anything I'd take it.
The obvious comparison was too good to ignore, so I told my hearers that their women to-day were still riding in ox-teams while the men soared in the air, and that women's work in the world's service could be properly done only when they too were allowed to fly. In Oregon we were joined by Miss Lucy Anthony.
In the galley, of gentlemen and officers myself had Captain Thyn, my cousin John Greenvile, my nephew John Gilbert, Captain Whiddon, Captain Keymis, Edward Hancock, Captain Clarke, Lieutenant Hughes, Thomas Upton, Captain Facy, Jerome Ferrar, Anthony Wells, William Connock, and above fifty more.
In its flame he saw the colourless face of Mrs Anthony a little below him, standing on the cabin stairs. On deck the captain's voice was heard sudden and unexpectedly sardonic: "You had better look sharp, if you want to be in time." "Let me have the box," said Mrs Anthony in a hurried and familiar whisper which sounded amused as if they had been a couple of children up to some lark behind a wall.
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