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i have the honor to be, with the highest respect, gentlemen, your most obedient humble servant, Th: Jefferson. LETTER CXXXI. TO WILLIAM CARMICHAEL, November 4, 1785 Paris, November 4, 1785. Dear Sir, I had the honor of writing you on the 18th of October, and again on the 25th of the same month. Both letters, being to pass through the post-offices, were confined to particular subjects.
His host indicated that the deputation had given in a very full and satisfactory report he was, in fact, on the Session of the North himself but that no reference had been made to Jamie. "Well, you must know," and Carmichael laid himself out for narration, "the people were harassed with raids from the Lowlands during Cunningham's time, and did their best in self-defence.
The vintner, active as a cat, saw Carmichael coming on a run. He darted toward him, and before Carmichael could prevent him, dragged the sword-cane away. The blade, thin and pliant, flashed. And none too soon. The colonel had already drawn his saber. "Save him!" Gretchen wrung her hands. The two blades met spitefully, and there were method and science on both sides.
Then the pathos of the situation overcame Carmichael, and he went over to the bookcase and leant his head against certain volumes, because they were weighty and would not yield. Next day he noticed that one of them was a Latin Calvin that had travelled over Europe in learned company, and the other a battered copy of Jonathan Edwards that had come from the house of an Ayrshire farmer.
The present building is, however, almost entirely a work of the seventeenth century, though the beautiful tower was built in 1328. Here still, however, in spite of rebuilding, you may see the tomb of the Great Marquis by Mino da Fiesole. "It was erected," says Mr. Carmichael, "at the expense of the monks, not of the Signoria.... Ugo died in 1006, on the Feast of St.
The Colonel's still smoking revolver sank, and the supposed native swayed toward him, only to sink a few yards farther on to the ground. Carmichael ran to his side and lifted the fainting head against his shoulder. "Good God, Geoffries! Don't say I've hit you! How on earth was I to know!" "That's all right, Colonel. Only winded don't you know never hurried so much in life.
As I said, I ask nothing for myself, nothing. There has been a great blunder and a great wrong, too; but God sent me here to right it. Will you do this?" "But I must know ," began Carmichael. "You will know everything, once you obtain this concession from the duke." "But why don't you want immunity for yourself?"
Carmichael had knelt on that very platform six months or so before, but then he stooped in the service of two most agreeable dogs and under the approving eyes of Miss Carnegie; that was a different experience from hunting after single potatoes on all fours among the feet of unsympathetic passengers, and being prodded to duty by the umbrella of an obese Free Kirk minister.
"The Nashville Whig, of the 11th ult., says: Pleasant Watson, of De Kalb county, and a Mr. Carmichael, of Alabama, were the principals in an affray at Livingston, Overton county, last week, which terminated in the death of the former. Watson made the assault with a dirk, and Carmichael defended himself with a pistol, shooting his antagonist through the body, a few inches below the heart.
Carmichael, who hurried from one Chinese lantern to the other, breathless but determined. The task was doubtless an ignominious one for an Anglo-Indian lady of position, but Mrs. Carmichael, who acted as a sort of counterbalance to her husband's extravagant hospitality, cared not at all.
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