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Updated: June 5, 2025
When the frenzy of the brief tempest was over, it began to be a question, "What to do about the broken bridge?" The gap was narrow; but even Charles Homans could not promise to leap the "J.H. Nicholson" over it. Who was to be our Julius Caesar in bridge-building? Who but Sergeant Scott, Armorer of the Regiment, with my fellow-sentry of the morning, Bonnell, as First Assistant?
"Great heavens!" he exclaimed tragically, rushing out to the brougham, Jewel at his heels in peals of laughter. But they went to church in the trolley car. Eloise reached the same place with Mr. Bonnell, but whether she walked or drove or rode nobody ever knew, and it didn't matter much, for a full moon illumined the night.
Miss Frances Candler, this is Miss Blondie Bonnell, late of Wintefield's Saratoga Sanitarium for sick purses, and still later of MacAdam's Mott Street branch! Now, Blondie, like a good girl, run along and get the lady something to drink!" This proffered refreshment the outraged lady in question silently refused, staring tight-lipped at the walls about her.
Lawlor & Son at Brookville, Jewett & Co. at Drury's Cove, Isaac Stevens and A. L. Bonnell at South Bay, Frank Armstrong and J. & F. Armstrong at the Narrows, Hayford & Stetson at Glencoe above Indiantown, Charles Miller at Robertson's Point, Randolph & Baker at Randolph, W. D. Morrow and Purdy & Green on the Adelaide Road.
"You are to retire at once and no noise, young ladies," ordered Miss Stetson, divided between satisfaction at having proved her statement regarding Beverly's presence in the gym and her resentment at being doubted at the outset. Mrs. Bonnell had already retreated to her special sanctum, there to have a quiet laugh over the whole absurd situation.
He nodded slowly, wondering at the sudden attentive interest of her look. "Yes," he replied. "We talked on the tabooed subject." "Tabooed with whom? You?" she asked disappointedly. "No, with you I understand." Color flew into Eloise's face. "Who told you that? Mother of course." Bonnell nodded, giving a fleeting glance toward the child, who was again busy at her excavation.
In 1848, he became a citizen of Cleveland, disposing of the rolling mill to Brown, Bonnell & Co., who have since become leading iron men of the Mahoning Valley.
Even Miss Juliet Atwell, who came twice each week for aesthetic dancing, and several other stunts, openly worshiped at the Bonnell's shrine. Herr Stenzel's admiration had more than once proved an embarrassing proposition to the lady, for Herr Stenzel loved the flesh pots of Leslie Manor and knew right well who presided over them. But Mrs. Bonnell was equal to a good many Herr Stenzels.
Bonnell looked to the refreshments, everything was satisfactory excepting Miss Woodhull's veto upon "the absurd practices of Hallowe'en:" meaning the love tests of fate and fortune usually made that night. Those were debarred, though many a one was indulged in in secret of which that practical lady little kenned.
"Ah," she thought sentimentally, leaning back in her reclining chair, "how charming is youth with plenty of money!" She was roused from these luxurious meditations by the appearance of Sarah, bearing a card on a salver. "A man!" she exclaimed with annoyance. "I'm not dressed." Lifting the card, she read it with a start. "Mr. Nathan Wycliffe Bonnell."
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