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"Just arrived on board the brig 'Boscawen, Alexander Caine, Master from Ireland, a number of likely, healthy, men and women Servants; among whom are Taylors, Barbers, Foiners, Weavers, Shoemakers, Sewers, Labourers, etc., etc., whose indentures are to be disposed of by Cauldwell & Wilson, or the master on board the Vessel off Market Street Wharff Said Cauldwall & Wilson will give the highest prices for good Pot-Ashes and Bees-Wax."
Cauldwell & Whitney, an anonymous letter to them, dated at Washington, and suggesting that if I would attend what the latter calls "a séance of that celebrated humbug, Foster," I should see something that I could not explain. Foster himself. And as for the substance of it, it is very likely that Foster has now gotten up some new tricks. He needs them.
"None but a jail-bird would be so afraid of telling about himself," cried the captain, though ceasing to threaten. "The best thing you can do will be to turn the cursed son of a sea cook over to the authorities, Mr. Cauldwell." "Look ye, my man," warned the merchant, "ye only bring suspicion on yourself by such conduct, and ye know best how far ye want to have your past searched into "
Pour thy father another tankard of small beer, Janice." Clearly, what the Committee of Correspondence, and even the approaching Congress could not do, Mrs. Meredith could, for the squire settled back quietly into his chair, took a long swallow of beer, and resumed his letter. "What does Mr. Cauldwell say, dadda?" inquired the daughter. "Hmm," said Mr. Meredith.
Cauldwell writes me that ye don't know much about horses or gardening, but he thinks ye have parts and can pick it up quickly." Still keeping his eyes on Miss Meredith, Fownes nodded his head, with a short, quick jerk, far from respectful. "But he also says ye are a surly, hot-tempered fellow, who may need a touch of a whip now and again."
In witness whereof I have affixed the common Seal of the said office. Thomas Pattison, D. P. "And why Mr. Bull-dog?" asked Cauldwell, after a glance at the paper. "By the airs he takes. Odd's life! if we'd had the Duke of Cumberland aboard, he'd not have carried himself the stiffer. From the day we shipped him, not so much as a word has he passed with one of us, save to threat Mr.
That night, besides Braddock and Dumont, there were Jim Cauldwell and his brother Will. As they played they drank; and Dumont, winning steadily, became offensive in his raillery. There was a quarrel, a fight; Will Cauldwell, accidently toppled down a steep stairway by Dumont, was picked up with a broken arm and leg.
Without turning his head, a second time the man gave a jerk of it, conveying an idea of assent, but it was the assent of contempt far more than of accord. "Come, come," ordered the squire, testily. "Let 's have a sound of your tongue. Is Mr. Cauldwell right?"
John M. Cauldwell, the United States Commissioner for the Department of Art at the Paris Exposition of 1900, sent a circular letter to American artists in the city announcing his arrival and making appointments to discuss the hanging of their work. Whistler received one, asking him to call at "precisely four-thirty" on the afternoon of the following Thursday. "I congratulate you," he replied.
Still looking at Miss Meredith, the man shrugged his shoulders, and replied, "Bain't vor the bikes of ar to zay Mister Cauldwell bai a liar." Yet the voice and manner left little doubt in the hearers as to the speaker's private opinion, and Janice laughed, partly at the implication, but more in nervousness. "What kind of work are ye used to?" asked Mr. Meredith.
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