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Updated: May 17, 2025
"I know the child well," said one of them, "I often see her about, a well-behaved little lady, but full o' fun, too. D'ye think she might have been kidnapped, now?" "It might be," said Mr. Bryant, "though she's pretty big for that. And, too, she took extra money with her." "Then she may have been goin' somewhere by rail." "That's so! I never thought of that!" and Cousin Jack almost smiled.
"Oh, no," said Freddie uncomfortably. "Any time you're passing . . . !" "Awfully good . . . Well, good-bye." "Toodle-oo!" "Maybe we'll meet again some day." "I hope so. Absolutely!" There was a little scurry of feet. Something warm and soft pressed for an instant against Freddie's cheek, and, as he stumbled back, Nelly Bryant skipped up the steps and vanished through the door. "Good God!"
But really none of those he names were so constant to our air as he seems or his reporter seems to think. Longfellow sojourned three or four years in Germany, Spain, and Italy; Holmes spent as great time in Paris; Bryant was a frequent traveller, and each of them "drew his inspiration" now and then from alien sources.
I can imagine the expression on the faces of those who buy the "sour, crude, half-ripe Wilsons," against which the poet Bryant inveighed so justly. The market is flooded with this fruit because it bears transportation about as well as would marbles. Yes, they are strawberries; choke-pears and Seckels belong to the same species.
ST. DAVID'S, July 27, 1868. FRIEND BRYANT, I am a Quaker. I have just joined the sect. Thee won't believe it, because thee will think I lack the calmness and staidness that fit me for it. But I am a Quaker of the Isaac T. Hopper sort; though, alas! here the resemblance fails also, for I do no good. Dear me!
Nelly told me all about it when she got home last night. It seems that Freddie said to her 'What ho! and she said 'You bet! and Freddie said 'Pip pip! and the thing was settled." Jill bubbled. "Freddie wants to go into vaudeville with her!" "No! The Juggling Rookes? Or Rooke and Bryant, the cross-talk team, a thoroughly refined act, swell dressers on and off?" "I don't know.
Why, I knew this burg when they went picnicking at the reservoir in Bryant Park." He swaggered beside her without an invitation. He did not give her a chance to decline his company and soon she did not want to. He led her down to Gramercy Park, loveliest memory of village days, houses of a demure red and white ringing a fenced garden.
But Oscar appealed to his father, who came striding by the edge of the field where they chatted together. Had he ever heard of such a thing? "Well," said Mr. Bryant, good-naturedly, "I have heard of melons so thick in a patch, and so big around, that the sunshine couldn't get to the ground except at high noon. How is that for a tall story?" The boys protested that that was only a tale of fancy.
Very recently a paper was read before the Mathematical Society of London by Mrs. Bryant, Sc.D., on the geometrical form of perfectly regular cell structure, illustrated by models of cube and rhombic dodecahedron. In another section, Mme. Traube Mengarini studies the function of the brain in fishes; while, in our own country, Mrs. Commonplace! Why, what is commonplace?
Shameful!" burst forth from Mr. Bryant. "I have heard of such things before now, but I must say I never thought I should see it." He turned angrily to his brother-in-law as Mr. Howell joined the boys in their laugh. "How can you laugh at such a shameful sight, Aleck Howell? I'm sure it's something to cry over, rather than to laugh at a spectacle like that!
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