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John Caldwell Calhoun born in 1782, the youngest but one in a family of five children was eighteen years old before he had a thought of being anything but a farmer. His father had been dead five years. His only sister was married to that famous Mr. Waddell, clergyman and schoolmaster, whose academy in North Carolina was for so many years a great light in a dark place.
No good conversationalist confines himself exclusively to one subject, and when you are once more "under way" you should remark to the mother, "I think that motoring is great fun, don't you, Mrs. Caldwell?" Her answer will be, "I wish you wouldn't drive so fast!" You should then smile and say to Aunt Florence, "Don't YOU think that motoring is great fun, Mrs. Lockwood?"
"Glad to see you, Gottley," he said. "What will you have?" "Oh, nothing, thank you. I can't stay a moment. I just looked in to see how Mrs. Caldwell was getting on." "Oh, she's all right," her husband answered for her cheerfully. "How are you all, especially Miss Bessie?" "Ha! ha!" said the old gentleman, sitting down by the table. "That reminds me I'm not on good terms with Bessie this morning.
Hare bounded out upon the garden walk and raced back to the crowded square. The uneasy circle stirred and opened for him to enter. He stumbled over a pile of lassoes which had not been there when he left. The stony Mormons waited; the rustlers coughed and shifted their feet. John Caldwell turned a gray face.
Suddenly, with reverberating strokes, the mill bells rang out, the electric gongs chattered, the siren screeched, drowning the voices. Janet did not pause, but hurried from room to room until, in passing through an open doorway in the weaving department she ran into Mr. Caldwell. He halted a moment, in surprise at finding her there, calling her by name.
On one occasion when he had stopped, and she had been sitting some time at the foot of the couch, with the brush in her hand, she suddenly burst out with a long passage from "The Execution" the passage that begins: "God! 'tis a fearsome thing to see That pale wan man's mute agony." Captain Caldwell raised his eyebrows as she proceeded, and looked at his wife.
Young ladies could not be allowed to associate with servants as a rule, but an exception might be made in the case of a good, steady, sober sort of person, such as Mrs. Caldwell believed Harriet to be, who would keep the troublesome child out of mischief, and do her no harm. Harriet, as it happened, delighted in mischief, and was often the instigator; but Mrs.
Coal Mine Slaves: In 1836 large numbers of slaves were brought into Caldwell and worked by the owners of the ore mines, which necessitated extra patrols, interfered with local workmen, and so on. The taxpayers complained to the Legislature and an extra tax was allowed to be levied for the benefit of the county.
"He married Miss Caldwell, didn't he? She was a very pretty girl." "What do you know about here?" Wickersham asked. His tone struck Keith. "Oh, I met her once. I suppose they are very much in love with each other?" Wickersham gave a short laugh. "In love with Norman! Women don't fall in love with a lump of ice." "I do not think he is a lump of ice," said Keith, firmly.
Then, with a shade of reproof, she added, "You fret yourself for nothing." "Do you call it nothing to abuse an elegant garment like that?" demanded Mrs. Caldwell. "To throw it upon the floor, and tumble it about as if it were an old rag?" "All of which, mother mine, I have not done." And the girl tossed her head with an air of light indifference. "Don't talk to me in that way, Phoebe!
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