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Updated: May 22, 2025
You have looked it since noon." "Oh, nothin'," he replied "only George Cahoon came up to-noon to say that he was goin' West next week, and that he would have to have that money he let me have a while ago. And where to get it I don't know." The court-room was packed. John Wood's trial was drawing to its close. Eli was on the jury.
In gaining this appetite she appeared to have lost some of her dignity and chilling condescension; at all events, she treated her American relatives as if she considered them human beings. She addressed most of her conversation to Hephzy, always speaking of and to her as "Miss Cahoon." She still addressed me as "Mr. Knowles," and I was duly thankful; I had feared being hailed as "Uncle Hosy."
And yet there's somethin' sort of sort of familiar about you, now that I look closer. Who be you?" "My name is Thankful Barnes now. It didn't used to be. When you knew me 'twas Thankful Cahoon. My grandmother, on my father's side, was your mother's own cousin. Her name was Matilda Myrick. That makes you and me sort of distant relations, Mr. Cobb."
Cahoon, for instance, will not recognize it as the capital of the country in which he lives, and always speaks of Dublin people as impractical, given over to barren political discussion and utterly unable to make useful things such as ships and linen. He also says that Dublin is dirty, that the rates are exorbitantly high, and that the houses have not got bath-rooms in them.
Cahoon, in a curious hard way, was touched with idealisms; I discovered, accidentally, that he devotes his spare time on Saturdays to the instruction of young men in cricket and football. His Sunday afternoons he gives to an immense Bible-class for boys of fifteen or sixteen.
Babberly, of course, was at the dinner, and with him most of the small group of Ulster Members of Parliament. Three or four leading members of the Opposition, Englishmen who had spoken on Ulster platforms and were in full sympathy with the Ulster dislike of Home Rule, were also present. Cahoon was not.
They furnished her with comfortable clothing, for which she manifested much gratitude. It was always pleasant to call upon "Widow Cahoon," and hear her talk about herself and her previous charge. She told us about his parents and grandparents. His father's father was a Methodist clergyman, and his grandmother, Smith, was a most devout woman.
"Make that man wait a moment longer. Miss Colton, I have an idea. Would your father be willing to but, that is silly! Of course he would! I'll see Cahoon myself." I found Phineas, long-legged and gaunt, sitting on the front step of the colonial portico. He had been invited into the hall, but had refused the invitation. "I had on my workin' duds," he explained later.
"Lord Moyne, I presume?" said the young man. "Lord Moyne," I said, "has just left." "May I ask," he said, "if I have the honour of addressing Mr. McNeice?" I explained that I was not McNeice. Then, in order to get him to go away, if possible, I added that I was not Malcolmson, or Cahoon, or Conroy, or the Dean. "If you'll pardon my curiosity," he said, "I should like to ask "
Sort of a sweet pickle, hey?" and he laughed. Miss Cahoon remembered the Preston girl's address. It was Cambridge, Kirkland Street, but the number, she did declare, had skipped her mind. The Captain said he would chance it without the number, so the letter was posted. Then, with the electrician, he strolled over to inspect the remains of the billiard saloon.
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