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Updated: May 23, 2025
Cleghorn's consent, married Miss Cleghorn; and that Frank did not become an old bachelor: he married an amiable girl, who was ten times prettier than Jilting Jessy, and of whom he was twenty times as fond. May every good father have as grateful children! May, 1801. In the island of Jamaica there lived two planters, whose methods of managing their slaves were as different as possible. Mr.
Don't prejudice my girl against him. Not a word more against smugglers, before her, I beg." "You shall be obeyed, sir," said James. His voice altered, and he turned pale as he spoke; circumstances which did not escape Mr. Cleghorn's observation. Young Raikes, and his uncle, the rich smuggler, paid their visit. Miss Cleghorn expressed a decided dislike to both uncle and nephew.
Cleghorn's daughter, sir, at tea in that room: she must not be disturbed," said James, holding the lock of the parlour door. He thought the stranger was either drunk or pretending to be drunk; and contended, with all his force, to prevent him from getting into the parlour. Whilst they were struggling, Mr. Cleghorn came home. "Heyday! what's the matter? O admiral, is it you?" said Mr.
Cleghorn's high notions of subordination applied, on this occasion, equally to his daughter and to his foreman: he considered them both as presumptuous and ungrateful; and said to himself, as he walked up and down the room in a rage, "My foreman to preach to me indeed! I thought what he was about all the time! But it sha'n't do it sha'n't do! My daughter shall do as I bid her, or I'll know why!
During the eighteen months that James had spent in Mr. Cleghorn's shop, he never gave his master the slightest reason to complain of him; on the contrary, this young man made his employer's interests his own; and, consequently, completely deserved his confidence. It was not, however, always easy to deal with Mr. Cleghorn; for he dreaded to be flattered, yet could not bear to be contradicted.
A scowl passed over Cleghorn's thin face set unswervingly towards the pots. They glimmered in the shadow with an unholy phosphorescence green, blue, carmine, strange purplish browns. So the glittering coils of the serpent may have bewildered our first Mother. There were other pots below, reflected Cleghorn, yes, but there never could be again such a batch as these.
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