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I say this to you because you do not know me, nor the Professor, and you are young, and thoughtless, and might jump to wrong conclusions. That would pain me very much, James. Very much. You will see, after the good folk arrive, and after you have heard Mr. Bowditch and Deacon Chick, that everything is as open as the day." In spite of Mr.
He turned the pages reverently. In a way, it spoke a kindred speech. Both he and it were of the sea. Then he found a "Bowditch" and books by Lecky and Marshall. There it was; he would teach himself navigation. He would quit drinking, work up, and become a captain. Ruth seemed very near to him in that moment.
The expression on his face was bland and seductive. "At what hour do you say the attempted robbery took place, Mr. Bowditch?" "About eleven o'clock." "Did you have a watch?" "No." "How do you know, then?" The question was asked in a mild way as if he intended to help the carrier's memory. "I don't know exactly; it may have been half-past ten or eleven." "You, of course, saw the man's face?" "No."
The bearer of the governor's despatches was Thomas Edward Bowditch, a young man who, actuated by a passion for travelling, had left the parental roof, thrown up his business, and having married against the wishes of his family, had finally accepted a humble post at Cape Coast Castle, where his uncle was second in command.
I had never heard of this epigram, and on coming away Lord Dudley said, "You are going home to sleep and I to work." I answered, "Oh! you are going to prepare your speech for to-morrow." My appropriate remark raised an universal laugh. Mr. Bowditch, of Boston, U.S., who died in 1838, left among other works a "Commentary on La Place's Mécanique Céleste" in four volumes.
We will now briefly describe the pompous entry of the English mission into Coomassie. The whole population turned out on the occasion, and all the troops, whose numbers Bowditch estimated at 30,000 at least, were under arms. Before they were admitted to the presence of the king, the English witnessed a scene well calculated to impress upon them the cruelty and barbarity of the Ashantees.
There were some who thought that his death might have been accidental, but old Doctor Bowditch said, "My friends, there was only too much reason for it." Of all the wrecks on that dangerous coast was not this the most piteous and tragical! William Hunt narrowly missed being one of the greatest of painters.
And let me in this place movingly admonish you, ye ship-owners of Nantucket! Beware of enlisting in your vigilant fisheries any lad with lean brow and hollow eye; given to unseasonable meditativeness; and who offers to ship with the Phaedon instead of Bowditch in his head.
"So I have too," replied the captain; "and I've never told my own since the day I tore the title-page out of my Bowditch and flung the damned thing into the sea. But I'll tell it to you, boys. John Davis is my name. I'm Davis of the Sea Ranger." "Dooce you are!" said Huish. "And what was she? a pirate or a slyver?"
Born in Boston, where her studies have been made, chiefly under William M. Hunt. Miss Lamb has painted portraits principally, a large number of which are in Boston in the homes of the families to which they belong. Among them are Mrs. Robert C. Winthrop, Jr., and her children; Mr. J. Ingersoll Bowditch, Mr. Horace Lamb, the three sons of the late Governor Roger Wolcott, the daughters of Mrs.
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