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Updated: June 1, 2025
"My man will buy it sight unseen, as ye might say on my recommend. He only saw it for a moment," said Bodley. "What will he give for it?" asked Hopewell. "How much do you want?" "One hundred dollars, Mr. Bodley," said the storekeeper, this time with more firmness. "What? One hundred of your grandmother's grunts!
Ortel, envoy of the States to London, expressed his hopes that affairs would now be handled more to the satisfaction of the States; as Bodley would be obliged, since the death of Sir Francis, to address his letters to the Lord High Treasurer, with whom it would be impossible for him to obtain so much influence as he had enjoyed with the late Secretary of State.
"Which is the nearest shelter?" Joe Bodley mused for a moment. "The nearest that I know of is over at yonder point, Ned. It's an old hunting lodge that used to belong to the Cameron family. It has been deserted for several years." "Then let us row for that place, and be quick about it," said Ned Talmadge. "I am not going to get wet if I can help it."
The services which Bacon rendered to letters during the last five years of his life, amidst ten thousand distractions and vexations, increase the regret with which we think on the many years which he had wasted, to use the words of Sir Thomas Bodley, "on such study as was not worthy of such a student."
The queen, who loved the one as much as she esteemed the other, maintained a kind of neutrality, and endeavored to share her favors with an impartial hand between the parties. Sir Robert Cecil, second son of Lord Burleigh, was a courtier of promising hopes, much connected with Raleigh; and she made him secretary of state, preferably to Sir Thomas Bodley, whom Essex recommended for that office.
"I that is who are you, boy?" demanded Malone, getting to his feet and picking up his hat and his bundle. "You ought to remember me. I am Joe Bodley. I used to work for Mr. Mallison, at Riverside." "Don't know the man or the place," said Pat Malone, coolly. "You have made a mistake." "Then perhaps I had better call you Malone." "Not at all. My name is Fry John Fry."
Sir Thomas Bodley, the queen's agent, had much confidence in him, and acted with him most cordially, and Prince Maurice entertained a great respect for him, consulted him habitually in all military matters, and placed him in the position of marshal of the camp of the army of the Netherlands, in addition to his own command of the English portion of that army.
"The effect ... is somewhat similar to a motion to adjourn the house in the English Parliament." Bodley, p. 445. This is not all. The law of incompetence spreads still further, either by some process of logical necessity or by a sort of contagion.
As he spoke he took up a pair of oars lying in the big rowboat he and Joe Bodley occupied. Joe was already rowing and the rich boy joined in, and the craft was headed for the spot Joe had pointed out. The lake was one located in the central part of the State of Pennsylvania. It was perhaps a mile wide and more than that long, and surrounded by mountains and long ranges of hills.
The books and manuscripts being thus dispersed or destroyed, a prudent if unromantic Convocation exposed for sale the wooden shelves, desks, and seats of the old library, and so made a complete end of the whole concern, thus making room for Thomas Bodley.
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