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Copperhead began the new day, he began it with a very unwise idea, quickly carried out, as unwise ideas generally are. Feeling that he could make nothing of his son, he resolved to try what he could make of Phoebe; a young woman, nay, a bit of a girl not more than twenty, and a minister's daughter, brought up in reverence of the leading member any resistance on her part seemed really incredible.
Advancing to the aforesaid door, and giving three distinct raps, the slide, which we find covers the hole from the inside, is moved up, and a live, full-grown Copperhead peers through the orifice.
If you don't mind following your friends, I want to speak to old Tozer here by himself. I don't like to have women meddling in my affairs." "Grandpapa is very tired, and he is upset," said Phoebe. "I don't think he can have any more said to him to-night." "By George, but he shall though, and you too. Look here," said Mr. Copperhead, "you've taken in my boy Clarence here.
I promised I would and I really want to. I find him in a fever, for a fever he certainly will have. I dress his wounded ankle and discover he must have some medicine. I get old Copperhead to ride back with me for it. You wait here and arrest him without trouble." The two men looked at each other, then at her, with a gentle admiring pity.
I'll tell you what, I'll have you asked to dinner. Capital fun it will be. A High Church parson cheek by jowl with a red-hot Dissenter, and compelled to be civil. By Jove! won't it be a joke?" "It is not a joke that either of us will enjoy." "Never mind, I'll enjoy it, by Jove!" said Copperhead. "He daren't say no.
"The next night, about ten o'clock, that sheepflock was hit, on this side of Copperhead, right about here. Early Wednesday night, that mule got slashed up in the woods back of the Weston farm. It was only slightly injured; must have kicked the whatzit and got away, but the whatzit wasn't too badly hurt, because a few hours later, it hit that turkey-flock on the Rhymer farm.
Rising in the world was never no thought of mine; doing your duty and trusting to the Lord is what I've always stood by; and it's been rewarded. But she's a good girl, Mr. Copperhead; you'll never regret it, sir. She's that good and that sensible, as I don't know how to do without her.
Copperhead, in a nervous tremor; "bring tea, Burton, please. It is rather early, but I do so hope you will stay." She gave Miss Dorset an appealing glance, and Anne was too kind to resist the appeal. "To be sure they'll stay," said Mr. Copperhead. "Ladies never say no to a cup of tea, and ours ought to be good if there's any virtue in money. Come and look at my Turner, Sir Robert.
It will do no harm even to realize that the man who embodied the copperhead feeling was by no means a malignant man, however mistaken. Clement Laird Vallandigham was born in 1820 at New Lisbon, of mixed Huguenot and Scotch-Irish ancestry, a stock which has given us some of our best and greatest men.
"I don't seem to feel it so very much myself." "And yet you are a musician!" "Don't be too hard upon me, Mr May. I only play a little. I am not like my cousins in the High Street, who are supposed to be very clever at music; and then poor Mr. Copperhead is a very old friend." "Poor Mr. Copperhead! poor us, you mean, who have to listen and you, who choose to play."
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