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He is responsible for what was my last association with a ship. I call it that be cause it can hardly be called a sea-going experience. Dear Captain Froud it is impossible not to pay him the tribute of affectionate familiarity at this distance of years had very sound views as to the advancement of knowledge and status for the whole body of the officers of the mercantile marine.
It was a snarling voice, and came from the corner between the window and fire-place, peering in which direction, "Cobbler" Horn perceived dimly the figure of the man he had come to see. Mr. Daniel Froud had turned around from a high desk at which he had been writing in the gloom.
Froud took me up and carried me to St. James's, where with Mr. Coventry and Povy, &c., about my Lord Peterborough's accounts, but, Lord! to see still what a puppy that Povy is with all his show is very strange.
It does not seem to me that money is to be so eagerly desired, and especially if it does one no more good than yours seems to be doing you. Good morning, friend; and God give you repentance." Mr. Froud had listened open-mouthed to this plain-spoken homily.
Froud to bemoan the absurdly easy terms he had made with "the Golden Shoemaker." "If I had only known!" he moaned; "if I had only known!" That evening "Cobbler" Horn told his sister what he had done, and why he had done it; and she held up her hands in dismay.
Horn," and the grizzled reprobate pushed towards his visitor, who had hitherto remained standing, one of his rickety and dust-covered chairs. "Cobbler" Horn looked doubtfully at the proffered seat, and said that he preferred to stand. "If you are willing to sell me the house, Mr. Froud," he said, "name your price. It is not my intention to waste your time." Daniel Froud still pondered.
But, coming back to Captain Froud and his fixed idea of never disappointing ship-owners or ship-captains, it was not likely that I should fail him in his ambition to satisfy at a few hours' notice the unusual demand for a French-speaking officer.
Unsophisticated as he was, "Cobbler" Horn felt that the proposal was exorbitant. "You are surely joking?" he said. "You think the price too small?" "I consider it much too large." "Well, perhaps I was joking, as you said. What do you think of £500?" "I'm afraid even that is too much. I'll give you £450." Daniel Froud hesitated for some minutes, but at last said, "Well, I'll take your offer, Mr.
The wretched creature fell back panting against the door on the opposite side of the passage. "Daniel Froud," she said, when she had sufficiently recovered her breath, "the next time you do that I shall give you notice." With which dreadful threat, she gathered herself together, and hobbled back to her own quarter of the dingy house, leaving Mr.
He now moved a step nearer to "Cobbler" Horn, and stood revealed, an elderly, and rather undersized, grizzled, gnarled, and knotted man, dressed in shabby and antiquated clothes. "Good morning, Mr. Froud," said "Cobbler" Horn, extending his hand, "I've come to see you on a little business."
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