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Updated: June 27, 2025
This is the house at 288 Chatterton Place. We are after the great secret that was discovered by Dr. Holcomb. We were summoned by Hobart Fenton." Consciousness is an enigma. Hitherto Watson had been almost inert; his actions and manner of speech had been mechanical. That it was the natural result of the strange force that had thrown him out, no one doubted.
Collins' callow namby-pamby died and gave no sign of the vigorous and original genius which he afterward displayed. We have never thought that the world lost more in the "marvellous boy," Chatterton, than a very ingenious imitator of obscure and antiquated dulness. Kirke White's promises were indorsed by the respectable name of Mr. Southey, but surely with no authority from Apollo.
Oh, dear me, why will Polly act so! Oh, dear me! I wish Charlotte Chatterton was in the Red Sea." Miss Salisbury gathered herself up in quiet disapproval; and with a parting look prepared to leave the room. "Oh, Miss Salisbury," cried Alexia, flying after her, to pluck her gown, "do turn around. Oh, dear me!" and she began to cry as hard as she could.
Chatterton, startled out of her elegance, and not pausing to adjust the glass, but using her two good eyes to the best advantage. "Hoity-toity! So you are back again!" exclaimed Mr. King by way of welcome. "Well, and if I may ask, what brought you now, Eunice?" Mrs. Chatterton gathered herself up and smiled in a superior way. "Never mind my reasons, Cousin Horatio.
The register records the burial here, on August 28, 1770, of "William Chatterton," presumably Thomas Chatterton, as the date accords. A later hand has added the words "the poet." Wriothesley, Henry VIII.'s Chancellor, was buried in St. Andrew's churchyard.
Chatterton turned around nervously. "Oh, Auntie Auntie!" cried Polly, convulsively clinging to her, "are you really here, and is Dicky home?" "Dear child," said Mrs. Whitney, as much a girl for the moment as Polly herself. And pressing kisses on the red lips, while she folded her close "Yes, Dick is at home. There, go and find him; he is in Mrs. Pepper's room."
"Yes," said Miss Salisbury decidedly. "Very glad indeed, Alexia." "And now you won't make Polly see that Charlotte Chatterton ought not to be stuck into that Recital?" cried Alexia wildly. "Oh, dear me! and you are the only one that can bring Polly to her senses oh, dear me!" "Certainly not," said Miss Salisbury, with a little dignified laugh.
Chatterton was too proud to eat a gift dinner, though nearly starved, and committed suicide at seventeen for lack of appreciation. John Hunter was dull and hated study, but at twenty his mind awoke as did that of Patrick Henry, who before was a lonely wanderer, sitting idly for hours under the trees. Alexander Murray awoke to life at fifteen and acquired several languages in less than two years.
"I didn't at first," said Charlotte Chatterton, "but I do now, Miss Rhys oh! very much, you and Miss Harrison, and all those girls you can get up something beautiful; and Dr. Fisher and I don't in the least know how, and we want you to do it." Then she sat quite still. "Well, I declare!" cried Alexia Rhys, unable to find another word. Then she looked out of the window.
"Oh oh!" she cried, the color flying up to the brown waves on her temples, "don't send me off; then I shall know you never will forgive me." "Get up, do!" exclaimed Mrs. Chatterton, in disgust; "you are crushing my gown, and besides I hate scenes." But Polly held resolutely to the chair-arm, and never took her brown eyes from the cold face. "I must say, Polly Pepper," cried Mrs.
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