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She had become clairvoyant also, and saw many forms about the room. I could see nothing. "Tell us more about yourself, 'Wilbur'?" I asked. "Who are you? What did you do on the earth?" "I was a soldier." "In the Civil War?" "Yes." "On which side?" "That's a leading question," he answered, with some hesitation. "Oh, come now, the war is over!" "I was on the Southern side. I am Jeff. W. Thompson.
There is talk of giving a Shakespearian play, with Miss Tebbs to engineer it, and the cast to be chosen from the three lower classes. The seniors, of course, will give their own play later." "How did you find out?" asked Anne. "Miss Thompson herself told me about it," replied Grace. "She called on mother yesterday afternoon, and, for a wonder, I was at home.
Packeteers have been drowned, frozen, burned, shot, smothered, and even eaten; but the packet has always reached its destination somehow." A sudden burst of laughter from the men at a neighbouring fire attracted the attention of Chief Factor Thompson, and glancing over, he remarked to me: "Telling yarns, eh! Let's go over and listen."
Huntington, seeing the game about to slip from his hands, whirled on his heel and looked swiftly toward the store. "Thompson!" he yelled. "Here!" was the answer, as a small, gray-bearded man in shirt sleeves advanced a step or two from the door. "Fetch me that roll from your safe, will you?" "Right!" As Thompson disappeared within the store, Huntington turned again toward the cowboys.
Cole and her sister-in-law, Amy Cole; a few tourists; a man or two; Major Drake, who liked to join in the psalms with his deep bass; and little Mr. Thompson, one of the masters at the School who loved music and always came to Evensong when he could. There they were then, and the Archdeacon, looking at them from his stall, could not but feel that they were rather a poor lot.
I learnt he was told the story by the driver of the Blackall coach, who had heard it in Barcaldine from Tommy Thompson, who was told it in Winton by Tommy Cahill, who received it at Hughenden from Martin Warneminde. I was quite satisfied and did not inquire further. Judging by the way they fulfilled the requests at different mail stages, these men must have been gifted with wonderful memories.
For instance, the name "granti" is applied to the gazelle first discovered by the explorer Grant. "Thompsoni" is applied to the gazelle discovered by Thompson. "Cokei" is the name given the hartebeest discovered by Coke, and so on. If Colonel Roosevelt had discovered a new variation of any of the species it would be called the "Roosevelti ."
"Yeah old Dale and a stranger." Racey nodded. He knew with a great certainty what was coming next. "Anybody hurt?" he asked. "Old Dale." "Bad?" "Killed." Racey nodded again. "Even break?" "We don't think so," Thompson stated, frankly. "Who's we?" queried Racey. "Oh, Austin, Honey Hoke, Doc Coffin, McFluke, Jack Harpe, Lanpher, and Luke Tweezy.
Tea being over, the young ladies resume their work, and Felix insists upon holding a skein of silk while Miss Thompson winds it on a card.
Their son, Alexander, born in Belfast, came to America early in the last century and settled in New York, where he married a countrywoman, Sarah Thompson, whom he met after his arrival in the New World. He married in 1856 Frances M. Knapp, a young American woman of English antecedents.
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