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"I owe you a drink for that, Bill," said Haxall. "Yes, Saint Tammany. Now, do you think them gentlemen, who I've heard, was real respectable men, though it was rather a comedown to take to preaching, ever sported such an infernal broadbrim as that, or turned out a tail as broad as yours?"
"Miss Rosemary's rubies and gold " he said finally. "But I believe you're honest, I believe you're a good man." James Haxall explained this to Rosemary. Elim, standing aside, could see that the girl neither assented nor raised objection. She seemed utterly listless; a fleet emotion at the knowledge of her father's death had, in that public place, been immediately repressed.
Haxall being one of the most agreeable gentlemen she had ever met, when in fact he had not spoken a dozen words, but was a charmed listener to her interesting description of her travels abroad. In 1828, Mrs. Mayo, in the sixty-eighth year of her age, undertook a voyage to Europe in a sailing-vessel.
"I'd forgotten that!" the other admitted. "McCall and John both gone, mother dead, and now by heaven!" he exclaimed, low and distressed, "she has just no one. I'm without a place. Her friends have left. There's a distant connection at Bramant's Wharf, but that's almost at the mouth of the James." Rosemary Roselle came up to them. "Mr. Jim Haxall," she asked, direct and white, "is father dead?"
The church was crowded to its utmost capacity, and the streets thronged. Everything went off well, and I will enter into details when I see you. Mr. Wickham and Annie, Mr. Fry, John Wood, and others were present. Mr. Davis was prevented from attending by the death of Mrs. Howell. The Misses Haxall, Miss Enders, Miss Giles, etc., came down from Richmond.
"My young friend, it would ill become me to return a harsh word for thy rather rude address, nor will my feelings towards thee and all in thy unhappy condition, permit me to speak to thee, except in pity and in sorrow." "Go to h l with your pity. Nobody asks you for it," exclaimed Haxall, fiercely. "Gently, boy, gently, and do not profane thy lips with such language.
"I say, Haxall," said a stout boy, whose dirty and ragged clothing, and vicious expression of face, proclaimed him one of those predestined candidates for the State Prison and gallows, bred to their fate by the criminal neglect of the State, "I say," he said, addressing his companion, as wicked looking as himself, "isn't it a rum old covey."
Where wheat is ground whole, it includes six and a half parts of heat-producers to one of flesh-formers. The amount of starch varies greatly. Two processes of making flour are now in use, one the old, or St. Louis process; the other, the "new process," giving Haxall flour.
"Why the old cuss is a crying," answered Haxall, "or, perhaps, it's the whisky leaking out he took for his morning bitters." "Whisky be d d," said the other. "He never got as far as that. It's nothing but sour cider. I can smell it." Here there was a brutal laugh, in which some of the bystanders, equally degraded, joined.
"Yet, I know thee, and, perhaps, the guilt is partly mine that thou art even now what thou art. Thou hast, then, forgotten the man who, only a year ago, jumped off Coenties Slip, and, by the kindness of Providence, rescued a boy from drowning?" "Have I forgot!" exclaimed Haxall, with a sudden revulsion of feeling. "No, d d me, not altogether.
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