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Updated: May 23, 2025
Stuart he was only a new chum; but he went out and came back again, and there he was. He could not say much about Mr. Stuart's explorations, as all that needed to be said had been so ably put by Sir Henry Ayers.
"They sent for me from a family hotel in Ayers Street," the driver was explaining. Mr. Bentley's voice interrupted him. "He must be brought in, at once. Do you know where Dr. Latimer's office is, on Tower Street?" he asked the man. "Go there, and bring this doctor back with you as quickly as possible. If he is not in, get another, physician."
Mount Olga is the more wonderful and grotesque; Mount Ayers the more ancient and sublime. There is permanent water here, but, unlike the Mount Olga springs, it lies all in standing pools. There is excellent grazing ground around this rock, though now the grass is very dry.
If it weren't for the patent medicine ads, Ayers tells me, he wouldn't be able to keep afloat for want of ready cash. He says a patent medicine may be an abomination before the Lord, but that a patent medicine advertising agent looks to him like a very present help in time of trouble.
"Preston Parr had been in love with this woman, and separated from her. She was under Mr. Bentley's care when he found her again, I infer, by accident. From what the driver says, they were together in a hotel in Ayers Street, and he died after he had been put in a carriage. In her terror, she was bringing him to Mr. Bentley." The doctor nodded. "Poor woman!" he said unexpectedly.
Lafe claims to have more circulation than the Democrat, and this comes nearer giving Ayers apoplexy than anything else. He claims that Lafe's circulation consists two thirds of wind and that he hasn't more than 750 bona fide subscribers, including deadhead copies to patent medicine houses.
We call it the "Weekly Gimlet" and the "Poorly Democrat," and we make bright remarks to old man Ayers when he asks us for news and tell him that he ought to turn the paper inside out so that we can read the boiler plate first and not have to wade through his stuff. But he doesn't object.
Angelo E. Tower, first sergeant; James L. Manning, quartermaster sergeant; Amos T. Ayers, commissary sergeant; William H. Robinson, William Willett, Schuyler C. Triphagen, Marvin E. Avery, Solon H. Finney, sergeants. Amos W. Stevens, Jacob O. Probasco, Isaac R. Hart, Benjamin B. Tucker, George I. Henry, David Welch, Marvin A. Filkins, James W. Brown, corporals.
Ayers says, in return, that when a stranger arrives to make his home in Homeburg, Lafe Simpson meets him at the train, takes him to his new residence, and hangs around the doorstep until the stranger subscribes for the Argus in order to improve the atmosphere around the neighborhood.
Lafe, on the other hand, says Ayers prints 750 papers merely from force of habit that most of his subscribers have been trying to stop the paper for years and can't. Lafe says that when a man puts his name on Ayers's subscription list, he might as well carve it in stone and then try to wipe it off with gasoline.
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