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Updated: June 20, 2025
This strong similarity of the stone articles of the Atlantic coast to those of the mound area was noticed as early as 1820 by Caleb Atwater, who, knowing that the former were Indian manufactures, attributed the latter also to the same people although he held that the mounds were the work of the ancestors of the civilized nations of Mexico and Central America. Mound and Indian Pottery.
"What other boy?" Herbert demanded. And her reply, thrilling through the darkness, left him demoralized with horror. "Wallie Torbin!" The next afternoon, about four o'clock, Herbert stood gloomily at the main entrance of Atwater & Rooter's Newspaper Building awaiting his partner.
"See that he and Atwater have every thing done for them won't you, Mr. Egglestone?" The minister promised, and Frank endeavored to settle his mind to rest. But he could not sleep. Every five minutes he started up to inquire after his friends. Hour after hour passed, and he still remained wakeful as a spirit doomed never to sleep again.
"She's right here, reading. You aren't worried about her, are you?" she added. "Oh, no; I'm sure it's all right. I only thought " "Only thought what?" "Well, it did strike me as curious," said Mr. Atwater; "especially after Aunt Fanny's telling us how Herbert declared Florence could never have a single thing to do with his paper again " "Well, what?"
It took Raymond and Cora Atwater twelve years to reach this Wilson Avenue, though they carried it with them all the way. They had begun their married life in this locality before it had become a definite district. Twelve years ago the neighbourhood had shown no signs of mushrooming into its present opulence.
For I believe poor Clayton left no heir. Even gold can be useless at the last." Witherspoon's temples were throbbing as Doctor Atwater hurried him away to his home. "There is a mystery of mysteries, my boy," sadly said Atwater, "in the strange turn of Fortune's wheel which throws the millions into Francine Delacroix's pretty white hands. "Rouse yourself! We must think, act, and avenge our friend!
He told me afterwards that no angel could have been so beautiful a vision to him as Sara was, standing there on the wet platform with her tweed skirt held up and a streaming umbrella over her head, telling him he must come back to Atwater because Beatrice wanted him to. But just at the moment of his coming I didn't care how he had come or who had brought him.
Some of the dishes and knives and forks had belonged to Robert Louis Stevenson, who, said Tati, had given them to him when he was departing from Tahiti. Tati's sister, a widow, was of the party, and together we went to the Protestant churchyard to her husband's tomb. It was imposing and costly, and the inscription read: In Memory of Dorence Atwater, beloved husband of arii inoore Moetia Salmon.
With all her blithesomeness and high spirits she was inclined to be serious in thought. This conversation occurred several days after the evening when, on their way home from school, Nan and her school chum, Bess Harley, had read the yellow poster at the gate of the Atwater Mills. The district surrounding the mills, in which most of the hands lived, had put on an aspect of mourning.
My goodness mercy, mamma, I don't want to 'play' with 'em! I'm more than four years old, I guess; though you don't ever seem willing to give me credit for it. I don't haf to 'play' all the time, mamma: and anyway, Herbert and that nasty little Henry Rooter aren't playing, either." "Aren't they?" Mrs. Atwater inquired.
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