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Updated: May 22, 2025
I was a baby at the time, and was at Bayport with my mother, Emily Knowles, formerly Emily Cahoon, Captain Barnabas Cahoon's niece. Mother had a little money of her own and Father's life was insured for a moderate sum. Her small fortune was invested for her by her uncle, Captain Barnabas, who was the Bayport magnate and man of affairs in those days.
"To tell the truth, Miss Cahoon," he declared, "I have been rather fearful of this pet infant of ours. I didn't know what sort of helpless creature he might have coaxed into roaming loose with him in the wilds of Europe. I expected another babe in the woods and I was contemplating cabling the police to look out for them and shoo away the wolves. But he'll be all right now.
"Where's the rest of the folks?" she asked. "Georgie and Mr. Cahoon your brother, I mean have gone up to the village with the other one, the Cobb man." "What have they gone to the village for?" "To help Mr. Cobb get his horse and team at Chris Badger's. He's gone, you know." "Who's gone?" "Why, the Cobb one. He's gone home again. I tried to get him to stay for dinner; so did Miss Emily.
"Your aunt Miss Cahoon here had money in her own right." "SHE had money and my mother had not. Yet both were Captain Cahoon's daughters. How did that happen?" It seemed to me that it was Hephzy's time to play the target. I turned to her. "Miss Cahoon will probably answer that herself," I observed, maliciously. Hephzibah appeared more embarrassed than I.
"She is a better specialist than I. I shall have to take her into partnership. 'Campbell and Cahoon. Prescribers and Predictors. Authors Made Human. I'll speak to her about it." As he said good-by to us at the Grand Central Station he asked me another question. "Kent," he whispered, "what are you going to do now? What are you going to do with her?
So long as Cahoon and McConkey have a common taste for making domestic pets of machine guns they are not likely to fall out over such minor matters as wages and hours of work. I had a good deal to think of as Cahoon drove me back to Castle Affey. My main feeling was one of great personal thankfulness. I shall never, I hope, take part in a battle.
Gaine's Mercury declares that "the Strombolo, from August 21st to December 10th, 1781, had never less than 150 prisoners on board, oftener over 200." "Captain Cahoon with four others escaped from a prison ship to Long Island in a boat, March 8, notwithstanding they were fired on from the prison and hospital ships, and pursued by guard boats from three in the afternoon to seven in the evening.
If we don't fight now, we'll never fight, for there won't be a man left in Ulster that will believe in us again. I don't know that there's any more to be said. I propose that Lord Moyne puts the question to the meeting and takes a vote." Then Cahoon rose to his feet. "Before you do that, my lord," he said, "I'd like to say a word. I'm a business man. I've as much at stake as any one in this room.
Cahoon looked me full in the face for nearly half a minute without replying. Then he took out his watch and looked at it. Then he took me by the arm and led me towards the yard. "Did you ever see the Green Loaney Scutching Mill?" he said. I had never seen any scutching mill. I have only a vague idea of what a scutching mill is. "It'll not be more than twenty miles from this," said Cahoon.
"I mustn't be settin' round here much longer," he added. "John Baxter's goin' to have that little patch of cranberry swamp of his picked to-morrer, and he's expectin' some barrels down on to-night's train. John asked me to git Zoeth Cahoon to cart 'em down for him, but I ain't got nothin' special to do to-night, so I thought I'd hitch up and go and git 'em myself.
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