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The year of Captain Thompson's death was 1837. The chief mate of the Pilgrim on her outward voyage, Mr. Andrew B. Amerzeen, was born at Epsom, N.H., June 7, 1806. After returning in the Alert in 1836, as described by my father, his mother prevailed on him to give up long voyages, owing to the fact that his father, a ship owner and master, had been lost at sea with his ship a year or two before.
He drove a blow into the frightened face, and yelled: "That for old Bells Park! And that!" The room had become a pandemonium. Men seemed striking everywhere. Fists were flying, the bartenders and gamblers shouting for order; and Dick looked back to where Smuts and Bill were clearing a wide circle as they went after individual members of Thompson's supporters who were edging in.
He wrote a sonnet on Francis Thompson, though he was never affected by Thompson's literary manner. Indeed, he is singularly free from the influence of any of the modern poets. His ideas and his style are his own; he thought deeply on the art of writing, and was given to eager and passionate discussion of it with those who had his confidence.
It was popularly supposed that Herndon Hall had once been the country-place of Miss Thompson's people, which was not true; but that shrewd woman of the world, recognizing all the advantages of an aristocratic background, kept up the place on a generous footing, with gardeners, stablemen, and many inside servants, for which, of course, the pupils paid liberally.
We have now of Whig proxies Bedford, Lauderdale, Wilton, Downshire, Belhaven, Meldrum, and Lord Jersey. March 24. Cabinet dinner at Sir J. Murray's. Considered what course should be adopted upon P. Thompson's motion for a committee to revise taxation. Peel still hankers after the property tax, and rather unwillingly opposes this motion.
In the drawing-room stood a good walnut suite of furniture; a Turkey carpet, gilded mirrors, a piano, an inlaid Spanish guitar, and, by the side of an elegant table, the beaded slippers of the good master of the house completed the elegance of the apartment. Everything confirmed Mr. Thompson's description of himself as a gentleman of independent means with a taste for scientific inventions.
Said witness, being duly sworn, deposes as follows, to wit: My name is Dolly Adams, my age forty-seven years; I am the wife of Frank G. Adams, of this township, and reside on the North Fork of the American River, below Cape Horn, on Thompson's Flat. About one o'clock p. m., May 14, 1871, I left the cabin to gather wood to cook dinner for my husband and the hands at work for him on the claim.
"Paul Prescott. What is yours?" "Nicholas Benton. You may call me MR. Benton." "Mr. Benton?" repeated Paul in some astonishment. "Yes; I'm a young man now. I've been Smith & Thompson's boy till now. Now I'm promoted." Paul looked at MR. Benton with some amusement.
He always gets savage if his bowling is collared." Frank obeyed orders. In the next twenty minutes he only scored six runs, all in singles, while Thompson, who was also playing very carefully, put on thirteen. The game looked more hopeful for the Town boys. Then there was a shout from the House, as Thompson's middle wicket was sent flying. Childers, who was the last of the team, walked out.
When General Alexander Ramsay Thompson was agent of the United States for these Indians, on one occasion Assiola appeared before him and announced that the lands claimed by the Government belonged to the Indians; that the Indians could take care of themselves, and did not need General Thompson's services.
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