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The charter members were three ministers, the Rev. Samuel W. Pond, Rev. Thomas S. Williamson, M.D., and Rev. Stephen R. Riggs and one elder Alexander G. Huggins. It was an independent presbytery, and, for fourteen years, was not connected with any Synod. It was a lone presbytery, in a vast region, now covered by a dozen Synods and scores of presbyteries.
In 1763 Christiana Huggins, visiting the Peter Lyttons, married her host's brother, James, and settled on the Island. She drove occasionally to the lonely estate in the east, but she had a succession of children and little time for old duties.
Huggins, who is allers frontin' up as one who possesses public sperit, tries to look plumb dignified about it, an' remarks to Dave Tutt in the New York Store as how he thinks we oughter throw in around an' build a monument to Locoed Charlie. Dave allows that, while he's with Huggins in them projecks, he wants to add a monument to the ants.
"If old man Weinstein thinks he can put that over, he's got another guess coming!" "And then I give her the juice and we lost that super-six in the dust!" "Yes, Huggins has got some infield!" Fifteen or twenty years ago the trail of Bohemia would have inevitably led to Maria's in West Twelfth Street.
A direct collision, on the other hand, was out of the question, since there had obviously been little, if any, sacrifice of motion; and the substitution of a nebula for one of the "stars" compelled recourse to scarcely conceivable modes of action for an explanation of the perplexing peculiarities of the compound spectrum. From a Photograph taken by Sir William and Lady Huggins, Feb. 22, 1892.
Old James Lytton was placed beside her in the following year, and ten years later a child of Christiana Huggins, the wife of his son. The cane grows above their graves to-day. Alexander went home with Mrs. Mitchell, and it was long before he returned to Peter Lytton's.
It was a nice, tidy little shop, with a fire on the hearth and flowers in the window, and, as it was raining smartly, I thought no one would catch me if I stepped inside to chat with Martha. I fancied it would be so delightful and Dickensy to talk quietly with a licensed victualer by the name of Martha Huggins. Just after I had settled myself, the flower of chivalry came in and ordered ale.
Three bullets thudded into the metal about them, but Murphy and his fireman were intent on a falling copper. Huggins pulled his shirt back from the sucking draft of the flames. "'Eads!" he called. The coin rattled to the floor and both men dropped to their knees. Another rifle tried for them. "An' 'eads it is. I st'ys. Any'ow, it's warmer 'ere.
The luminous outburst by which they became visible was explained by Sir William Huggins, in a lecture delivered at the Royal Institution, May 13, 1892, on the tidal theory of Klinkerfues and Wilsing.
The bronco appears with six minutes to spar'. As it arrives, the vivacious Silver Phil jumps off the roof of the stoop the same bein' low an' is in the saddle an' out o' sight while as practised a hand as Huggins is pourin' out a drink. Where the trail bends 'round a mesa Silver Phil pulls up. "'Whoop! whoop! whoopee! for Silver Phil, he shouts.
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