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Updated: June 19, 2025
"He surely didn't keep out of politics, that Judge," said Mark, remembering the turns of fate which had almost and ever not quite made the old Judge a congressman, a mayor, and a Justice of the California State Supreme Court. "Oh, he had no call to be in politics. He hasn't the sand. Attwood says so. And he stuck at his desk and let his business chances go by. Myself, I'm keeping my lamps open.
"And to that end, Neighbor Attwood," Master Shakspere added, "we have, through my young Lord Hunsdon, who has just been made State Chamberlain, Her Majesty's gracious permission to hold this money in trust for the little maid as guardians under the law." Cicely stared around perplexed. "Won't Nick be there?" she asked.
Ten years later Attwood contributed another work to the flames, called The Scotch Patriot Unmasked . Attwood was a barrister by profession, a controversialist in practice, writing against the theories of Filmer and the Tories. He had a great knowledge of old charters, and wrote an able but inconclusive answer to Molyneux' Case for Ireland.
"Who art thou, boy?" he cried again. "This matter hath a queer look." "'Twas honestly come by, sir," cried Nick, no longer able to conceal a quiver in his voice, "and my name is Nicholas Attwood; I come from Stratford town." "Stratford-on-Avon? Why, art kin to Tanner Simon Attwood there, Attwood of Old Town?" "He is my father, sir. Oh, leave us go with thee take the whole chain!"
"Simon, what dost thou mean?" faltered Mistress Attwood, her heart going down like lead. "Nought, sweetheart but that I love thee, Margaret, and that our lad is coming home!" Her heart seemed to stop beating. "Margaret," said he, huskily, "I do love thee, lass. Is it too late to tell thee so?" "Nay, Simon," answered his wife, simply, "'tis never too late to mend."
"Where be he, then?" demanded Attwood, with a sudden sinking at heart in spite of his wrath. "How should I know? A went away wi' a play-actoring fellow in a plum-colored cloak; and play-actoring fellow said a loved him like a's own, and patted a's back, and flung me hard names, like stones at a lost dawg. Now le' me go, Muster Attwood cross my heart, 'tis all I know!"
Simon Attwood stepped into the room, and Master Shakspere went quickly to meet him in the middle of the floor. "Master Will Shakspere," said the tanner, hoarsely, "I ha' come about a matter." There he stopped, not knowing what to say, for he was overwrought. "Out with it, sir," said Master Shakspere, sternly. "There is much here to be said."
Flapper, who had joined us, was the first to propose this visit: he said he did not mind the fifteen francs which Jack owed him for billiards, but he was anxious to GET BACK HIS PISTOL. Accordingly, we sallied forth, and speedily arrived at the hotel which Attwood inhabited still.
The laughing shout that followed him into the Warwick road seemed not to die away, but to linger in the air like the drowsy hum of bees a hum that came and went at intervals upon the shifting wind, and grew by littles, taking body till it came unbroken as a long, low, distance-muffled murmur from the south, so faint as scarcely to be heard. Nick Attwood pricked his keen young ears.
"But, Simon," said Mistress Attwood, "'tis the Lord Admiral's own company surely they are not all graceless! And," she continued with very quiet dignity, "since mine own cousin Anne Hathaway married Will Shakspere the play-actor, 'tis scarcely kind to call all players rogues and low." "No more o' this, Margaret," cried Attwood, flushing angrily.
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