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Updated: May 23, 2025
Located in the old town or village, at a distance of a mile or more from the sea, the school occupied a building called "The Gables," and was an offshoot of a former ancient school connected with the famous parish church. In my time this "academy" was carried on as a private venture by a certain James Anthony Bown, a portly old gentleman of considerable attainments.
I's a-gwine to make you walk as straight as a string, Chambers, en so I's bown, you ain't gwine to git no bad example out o' yo' mammy. I tole you you couldn't go into no bad comp'ny. Well, you's gwine into my comp'ny, en I's gwine to fill de bill. Now, den, trot along, trot along!"
Yas'm, he is fer a fac', an' he gwine treat dat hawse scan'lous." Peggy's eyes grew dark. "We'll see," was all she said, but Jess chuckled. Most of the help at Severndale knew that look. "Jess, unharness that horse and tie him behind the surrey," was her next astonishing order. "Fo' de Lawd's sake, Miss Peggy, what yo' bown' fer ter do?
The wear of the surface amounted to only 1/158000 inch; at the same rate of wear, the loss in traveling from here to the moon would amount to only 1/34.3 of their weight. I examined each ball every 200 miles, and was surprised to find that on the whole the wear of each, during each journey, varied very little. The balls experimented on were a new set obtained from Mr. Bown.
She tried to look old and jaded. "Ah, Govenno' Cleb-orne!" exclaimed Clotilde. "Yass! Ah, you! you thing iv a man is nod a Creole 'e bown to be no 'coun'! I assu' you dey don' godd no boddy wad I fine a so nize gen'leman lag Govenno' Cleb-orne! Ah! Clotilde, you godd no lib'ral'ty!"
"You look so pretty, motherdy," said Ethelwyn approvingly, "So much prettier than black, cross old 'Vada, who always rolls her eyes at me and says, 'Miss Effel, you is de troublesomest chile dat ebba was bown. You have sense, and in that blue gown, white apron, and cap, you are pretty. You get prettier all the time you are getting old, mother. You'll be a beautiful angel when you are very old."
When I was barely twelve years old, not one of my schoolfellows and some were sixteen and seventeen years old could compete with me in Latin, in which language Bown ended by taking me separately. I also won three or four prizes for "excelling" my successive classes in English grammar as prescribed by the celebrated Lindley Murray.
What high head notes they speak with, and what familiar ground they go over. "Oh! you know Bown, do you such a good fellah good thot, I mean went mad about golf such a good gaime, you know what I mean is you know it's," etc. Quite "good people" too, probably keen on ridin' and shootin' though they may never have shot a foxth or a goo'th, or have even seen a golden eagle.
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