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At this third meeting, in an exchange of shots, McDuffie's arm was broken, and this terminated the difficulty; but it did not appease the animosity of the friends of the parties. These combatants were both men of remarkable abilities. Colonel William Cumming was a native of Augusta, Georgia. Born to the inheritance of fortune, he received a liberal education and selected the law as a profession.
Cumming of the Lyon Office, who, being at that time engaged in discovering and matriculating the arms of two commissaries from North America, three English-Irish peers, and two great Jamaica traders, had been more slow than usual in finding an escutcheon for the new Laird of Ellangowan. But his delay told to the advantage of Glossin in the opinion of the proud Baronet.
Leslie's sofa in a white jacket, while Marian sat at his feet telling his fortune with a book about flowers. "Oh, a musk rose, Mr. Ewing; you know what a musk rose means!" Then she got up and shook hands with Mr. Cumming; but her eyes still went away to the white jacket and the sofa.
Marian Leslie and Julia Davis were there accommodated with the loan of a small room by the major's wife, and as they were brushing their hair, and putting on their dancing-shoes, something was said between them about Maurice Cumming. "And so you are to be Mrs. C. of Mount Pleasant," said Julia. "Well; I didn't think it would come to that at last."
Cumming thus describes one of his encounters with this animal, by himself and Ruyter, a Bushman, a favorite servant. On the forenoon of the 26th, I rode to hunt, accompanied by Ruyter; we held west, skirting the wooded stony mountains. The natives had here many years before waged successful war with elephants, four of whose skulls I found.
Dockwrath," said he, gracefully moving towards them the palm of his hand, and eyeing them over his shoulder. "Mr. Gape is in the stationery line," he added, in a whisper to the attorney, "and does for Cumming and Jibber of St. Paul's Churchyard. Mr. Johnson, Mr. Dockwrath. Mr. J. is from Sheffield. Mr. Snengkeld, Mr.
All quite hopelessly Victorian! for, after all, why should people ever think of anybody but themselves? Dr. Cumming was a great bee-fancier, and a recognised authority on bees. Calling one day on my mother, he brought with him four queen-bees of a new breed, each one encased in a little paper bag. He prided himself on his skill in handling bees, and proudly exhibited those treasures to my mother.
He was fully conscious, however, of the difficult nature of the position, and that it was only tenable on condition of being penetrated, or possessed, as he said, with the idea of its tenability. In this strain he wrote to his intimate friend. Mr. Cumming Bruce, in September 1852, with reference to a report that he was to be recalled by the Ministry which had recently come into power.
That is, I believe, the motto of the former people; mine is mine is in fact, I have had some correspondence with Mr. Cumming of the Lyon Office in Edinburgh about mine. He writes me the Glossins anciently bore for a motto, "He who takes it, makes it." 'If there be any uncertainty, sir, and the case were mine, said Bertram, 'I would assume the old motto, which seems to me the better of the two.
Cumming, to whose exploits we have so frequently referred, gives the following account of a day's adventures, one of which was an amusing affair with a large python. On the 26th, I rose at earliest dawn to inspect the heads of the three old buffaloes, they were all enormous old bulls, and one of them carried a most splendid head.
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