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The inside is more superb than the outside. Izaak Walton and Jane Austen are buried there. WINCHESTER, May 28, 1891 The White Swan. As sure as my name is Jack Copley, I saw the prettiest girl in the world to-day, an American, too, or I'm greatly mistaken. It was in the cathedral, where I have been sketching for several days.
I'm certain you'll be able to tinker it up again all right. You can bet your life I'd never made that trip if I'd dreamed it would be necessary for me to push the old thing so far. Still, I'm mighty glad I went. Say, Roy, Copley is dead sure Barville will have more than an even show with Oakdale to-morrow, and you know what I think of his judgment.
<b>KLUMPKE, ANNA ELIZABETH.</b> Honorable mention, Paris Salon, 1885; silver medal, Versailles, 1886; grand prize, Julian Academy, 1889; Temple gold medal, Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, 1889; bronze medal, Paris Exposition, 1889. Member of the Copley Society, Boston; of the Society of Baron Taylor, Paris; and of the Paris Astronomical Society. Born in San Francisco.
This arrangement was carried into effect. Mr. William directed Thomas to remain in town, to take care of Copley on his return from Ostia, and deliver him safely into his uncle's hands. It occasioned Mr. William no inconvenience to leave Thomas behind for a day, since, though Thomas usually travelled in the same carriage with the family, the vetturino himself always drove.
The efforts of the coachers to put Sanger off his feet, however, were fruitless, Crane fanning, Grant expiring on a foul which Copley took thirty feet behind the pan, and Cooper perishing in an effort to beat a slow grounder to first. With the beginning of the fifth Rackliff again called encouragement to the batters, having strolled back to the ropes a little further down beyond first base.
"I know just what I am saying. I have no interest in 'Lasses Copley. You have." "You are the most exasperating girl!" exclaimed Ruth, in some warmth. They were in their room freshening their toilets for the evening. "I don't seem to suit you any more than Tom does," said her chum coolly. "I declare, Helen! you go too far." "I shan't go too far this time without Tom."
At last we started to walk to the village, Mr. Copley so laden with our hand-luggage that he resembled a pack-mule. We made a tour of the inns, but not a single room was to be had, not for that night nor for three days ahead, on account of that same election. "Hadn't we better go on to Edinburgh, aunt Celia?" I asked. "Edinburgh? Never!" she replied.
"Do you suppose we are standing on the roof of a cavern, Chess Copley?" "It might be," agreed the young fellow. "But if it is a cavern, where under the sun is the mouth of it? How do they get in or out? It beats my time!" Ruth quickly acknowledged that the mystery was beyond her comprehension.
In later years, especially in the last half of the eighteenth century, we have Copley Fielding; Prout, with his picturesque sepia drawings, the detail of his architecture in brown ink; Harding; Bonnington, really a great man; Clarkson Stanfield; Rowbotham; David Roberts; James Holland; Cattermole, who declined a knighthood and whose intimates were Dickens, Disraeli, and Thackeray; and so on down to the men of to-day, who are so well and ably represented in the annual exhibitions of the Royal Academy and the present English Water Color Societies.
I'm starved." "Thanks! I watched the pythons fed at the zoo once," said Helen with unwonted sharpness. "I will sit here till the scene of savagery is over. You can come back." "You are in a fine mood, I see," observed Tom, and went off chuckling. Nevertheless, he was not feeling very happy himself over the thought that Ruth and Chess Copley were out on the river together.