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Whitelaw Reid's hospitality was so genuine, so cordial, and so universal, that to be their guest was an event for Americans visiting England. There is no capital in the world where hospitality counts for so much as in London, and no country where the house-party brings people together under such favorable conditions. Both the city and the country homes of Mr. and Mrs.
One day, I was assisting my father-in-law and his sons in logging up his fallow, when we heard a great outcry among the pigs in a belt of woods between Mr. Reid's and Mr. Stewart's clearing, when, suspecting it was a bear attacking the swine, we ran for our guns, and made the best of our way towards the spot from whence the outcry proceeded. Near the edge of the clearing we met Mr.
I went, but I missed the place somehow. I went time and again, but it was always like that 'Lost Mountain' story of Mayne Reid's, though a valley's harder to find than a mountain you'd think. I couldn't find it anyhow, and that's about all there is to it." "Um!" said Mr. Bryce, and he ran his hand softly across his chin. "We are up against a bigger thing than I thought.
Acton, you do not think that a man of that fellow's evident brutal instincts is a fit associate for a young woman of Miss Reid's character and refinement." "Perhaps not," admitted Phil, still laughing, "but I guess Kitty can take care of herself." "I do not agree with you, sir," said the other authoritatively.
Among the most attractive of these visitors was Reid's cousin, Miss Martha Denny Martin, daughter of Colonel Robert Martin of Rockingham County, North Carolina. Rumor has it that Douglas speedily fell captive to the graces of this young woman. She was not only charming in manner and fair of face, but keen-witted and intelligent.
The achievement of this purpose, however, required a greater spiritual power than was granted to him. Comparing his later with his earlier work, Reid's biographer, A. Campbell Fraser, says: 'Reid's Essays form, as it were, the inner court of the temple of which the Aberdonian Inquiry is the vestibule.
I will not ask whether Reid was a 'natural realist' or a 'cosmothetic idealist, or what Descartes or Arnauld thought about the question. Reid's Works, p. 128. Lectures, pp. 150, 158-59. Dissertations, p. 98.
The sheriff's son had lent me a dozen of Opie Reid's novels, a history of the Civil War from the Southern viewpoint, an arithmetic, and an algebra. Here all day long I studied and wrote assiduously. And it was here I went to sit on my stool and write the letter to the owner of the warehouse ... a certain Mr. Womber....
I was as badly hurt as any, but a bond is a bond and I did as he desired, succeeding partly by coaxing and partly by insisting, though it was devious work. Frostier conviviality I have never sat down to than Reid's dinner.
Having set down the lamp on the floor, he came in a very reverential manner towards where I was sitting, with my right hand fettered to the ground, between Sarah Lochrig and Michael our son, and he said, with a remarkable and gentle simplicity of voice, in the Highland accent, that he had been requested by a righteous woman, Provost Reid's wife, to bring me a bottle of cordial wine and some little matters that I might require for bodily consolation.
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