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Rush, of Pennsylvania, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, in a letter to Granville Sharpe, May 1, 1773, says "A spirit of humanity and religion begins to awaken in several of the colonies in favor of the poor negroes. Great events have been brought about by small beginnings.

While mother, with a show of hospitality, was preparing supper for him, the amiable Mr. Sharpe killed time in sharpening his bowie-knife on the sole of his shoe. "That," said he to Will, who stood watching him, "that's to cut the heart out of that Free State father of yours!" And he tested the edge with brutally suggestive care.

Cheerekee did the work today." Tommy agreed without a smile. "And every day. Look here, Tommy Sharpe, tell the truth and say you have never swept or dusted this cabin in your life!" Bet grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around. "Look me in the eye and tell the truth." "Well, if I don't, I see to it that Cheerekee does," he acknowledged at last. "What's more, Mr.

An unwritten plank in the platform of the pro-slavery men was that the Free Soil party had no rights they were bound to respect, and Sharpe remarked to Will, with a malicious grin: "That's a nice pony of yours, sonny. Guess I'll take him along with me." And he proceeded to exchange the saddle from the back of his own horse to that of Prince. "You old coward!" muttered Will, bursting with wrath.

A man should rid himselfe of these vulgar and hurtful humours. Nay more, the manner was to welcome guests, And with dire shewes of slaughter to mix feasts. Of them that fought at sharpe, and with bords tainted Of them with much bloud, who o'er full cups fainted.

Give a man with frills like that his own way and he'd be a sprinkling odor cologne and peppermint all over the country." "He set your shoulder as well as any doctor," said Minty. "That's bone-settin', and a nat'ral gift," returned Sharpe, as triumphantly as his habitual depression would admit; "it ain't conceit and finikin got out o' books! Well," he added, after a pause, "wot's happened?"

It seemed as if they were, for, as she looked and listened, in considerable trepidation, the man approached the house in swift, swinging strides. Of course, it was the peddler. Mrs. Sharpe threw up her window and projected her head. "Mr. Ingelow!" "Halloo!" The man halted and looked up. "Where are the dogs?" "In the dogish elysium, I hope. Dead and done for, Sarah.

Then there is Sharpe, her worse half, a small gentleman over whom she towers, and of whom she is secretly fond in her way, though she tyrannizes him dreadfully. Near him may be seen a young American, whom they have somehow dubbed "Doctor Chicago," because he is a medical student hailing from that wonderful city, by name John Alexander Craig. Among his friends he is simply Aleck.

After Court I went with Lord Wriothesley Russell, to Dalkeith House, to see the pictures; Charles K. Sharpe alongst with us. We satisfied ourselves that they have actually frames, and that, I think, was all we could be sure of. Lord Wriothesley, who is a very pleasant young man, well-informed, and with some turn for humour, dined with us, and Mr. Davidoff met him.

I recall well how jolly Governor Sharpe, who was a frequent visitor with us, was wont to display a comely calf in silk stocking; and how Captain Daniel Clapsaddle would spread his feet with his toes out, and settle his long pipe between his teeth. And there were besides a host of others who sat at that fire whose names have passed into Maryland's history, Whig and Tory alike.