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"Because we don't want to let Beecher's crowd know that we are on the track of the idol of gold." "But they know anyhow, for they have the map," commented Ned, puzzled by his chum's words. "Maybe not," said Tom slowly. "I think this is a time for a big bluff. It may work and it may not. Beecher's crowd either has the map or they have not.
The whole matter burst into flame in 1874 in the trial of Henry Ward Beecher before a committee of Plymouth Church, which exonerated him. Reading Beecher's statement in her newspaper, Susan impulsively wrote Isabella Beecher Hooker, "Wouldn't you think if God ever did strike anyone dead for telling a lie, he would have struck then?"
"Of Professor Beecher's party. They're entombed alive!" Stunned, not alone by the realization of the awfulness of the fate of their rivals, but also by the terrific storm and the effect of the earthquake and the landslide, Tom and his friends remained for a moment gazing toward the mouth of the cavern, now completely out of sight, buried by a mass of broken trees, tangled bushes, rocks and earth.
"That's next week's," said Madeline. "I thought I'd do them both while I was at it. But this week's is funnier." "This week's" proved to be an absurd incident founded upon the illegibility of Henry Ward Beecher's handwriting. It was cleverly told, but the cream of its humor lay in the fact that Madeline's writing, if not so bad as Mr. Beecher's, was certainly bad enough.
Necessity: Not Choice A woman hurried up to a policeman at the corner of Twenty-third Street in New York City. "Does this crosstown car take you down to the Bridge toward Brooklyn?" she demanded. "Why, madam," returned the policeman, "do you want to go to Brooklyn?" "No, I don't want to" the woman replied, "but I have to." Mr. Beecher's Prescription A country clergyman once called on Mr.
Her father had received a call in Boston, where he had been preaching for six years, to go to Cincinnati, which at that period was considered the far West and almost like banishment; but the call was one not to be refused; the need of such preaching as Dr. Beecher's being greatly felt at that distant post.
He sat absorbed in an ecstasy of joyful excitement until the jangling of Canon Beecher's church bell recalled him to common life again. It speaks for the strength of the habits he had formed in Ballymoy that he rose without hesitation and went to take his part in the morning service. He sat down as usual beside Marion Beecher and her harmonium. He listened to her playing until her father entered.
I only met him two or three times, and I haven't seen him for years, and I don't suppose I shall ever see him again. He was a friend of Alice Beecher's brother, who was at Harvard. Alice took me over to meet her brother, and Mr. Maude was there. That's all." Elsa was plainly disappointed. "But how do you know, then ? What makes you think that he ?" "Instinct, again, I suppose. I do know."
The true wonder is, that this undercurrent should have been so strong all along, that those English sympathizers somehow in their hearts should have known what we were fighting for more clearly than we had been able to see it; ourselves. The key to this is given in Beecher's letter it is nowhere better given and to it I must now return.
He caught her own eyes reconnoitering, and they each looked hastily away. Again Miss Falconer returned to her attack. "Then you really know nothing positive of Miss Beecher's family?" "Nothing in the world," said Billy cheerfully. "But why not ask Miss Beecher?" The lady made no reply. "Miss Beecher is a beautiful girl," said Lady Claire hastily.
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