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The middle-aged man with the shifty eyes spat cautiously, and then, rubbing his stubby chin with a hairy, freckled hand, observed: "Well, young man, I'm Pennold, all right. I do some business with the Brooklyn & Queens people small business, of course, for we poor honest folk haven't the money to put in finance that the big stock-holders have.
Suddenly the Trainer drew himself together, as if for a plunge, and said: "Did you notice Porter's mare in the Brooklyn, sir?" "Yes; she ran a pretty good race for a three-year-old." "She did, an' I suppose they'll start her in the Derby. Do you happen to know, sir?" "I fancy they will," answered Crane, carelessly. "She stopped bad yesterday; but I've heard somethin'."
In Brooklyn her mother's ill health had kept her much at home, and the dominant influence of her father had therefore every chance to make itself felt upon her character, and that influence was all in favor of a self-denying philanthropy. To the last her father was altruistic, finding nothing worth living for but the doing for others.
For several years past there have been rumors more or less definite in character that a young lady in Brooklyn was not only living without food, but was possessed of some mysterious faculty by which she could foretell events, read communications without the aid of the eyes, and accurately describe occurrences in distant places, through clairvoyance or whatever other name may be applied to the influence.
"Here is the name, 'M. C., Brooklyn. He will be overjoyed. Suppose we take it up between us." No opposition being made by Mr. Holdfast, the boys took the trunk up between them, preceding the mate. They had just reached the summit of the bluff. "Put down that trunk!" said a stern voice. Looking up, the boys saw that the speaker was Captain Hill.
Must 'a' had a fire for tea early in the evenin'. Wherever they's an Englishman, thar's got to be tea." Before midnight they reached Remsen's barn and about two o'clock entered the camp on lathering horses. As they dismounted, looking back from the heights of Brooklyn toward the southeast, they could see a great light from many fires, the flames of which were leaping into the sky.
Ann Eliza, with a smile of triumph, brought a slice of custard pie from the cupboard and put it by her sister's plate. "You do like that, don't you? Miss Mellins sent it down to me this morning. She had her aunt from Brooklyn to dinner. Ain't it funny it just so happened?" "I ain't hungry," said Evelina, rising to approach the table.
A signal was made and repeated to the Brooklyn to go ahead; but that vessel gave no sign of moving, her commander being probably perplexed between his orders to pass east of the buoy and the difficulty of doing so, owing to the position into which his ship had now fallen and the situation of the monitors.
The Almirante Oquendo, equally punished, followed the same example, a mass of flames shrouding her as she rushed for the beach. The Vizcaya was the next to succumb, after a futile effort to ram the Brooklyn. One shell from the cruiser went the entire length of her gun-deck, killing or wounding all the men on it.
The surviving children are: Herbert G. Croly, a man of letters in New York City; Vida Croly Sidney, the wife of the English playwright, Frederick Sidney, lives in London; and Alice Gary Mathot, the wife of a New York lawyer, William F. Mathot, resides in Brooklyn Hills, Long Island. Mrs.
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