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Updated: June 12, 2025
He says that Tom wasn't to blame corroborates his story, in fact, in every material particular. So Tom's all right on that score. My advice to him would be to come in and have his trial over." "That isn't what's bothering him so much. It's these friends of Cross's. I don't blame him. Some sheriffs are mighty weak-kneed about such things." "Well, I'm told that officers will be after him.
He then visited Lane Cross's studio, posing as a newspaper interviewer. Mr. Cross was out of town, so the elevator man said. His studio was closed. Mr. Kennedy meditated on this fact for a moment. "Does any one use his studio during the summer months?" he asked. "I believe there is a young woman who comes here yes." "You don't happen to know who it is?" "Yes, I do. Her name is Platow.
Cross's last words to me were: "Do as much business, push trade as sharply, as you can. There is no telling how long English charters, or the King's writ for that matter, will continue to run over here." So they set sail, and I never saw either of them again. It was a source of much satisfaction and gain to me that my position held me far above the bartering and dickering of the small traders.
A milder form of sorrow finds its inexpensive and lasting remembrancer in the coarse and ugly but indestructible 'immortelle' which is a wreath or cross or some such emblem, made of rosettes of black linen, with sometimes a yellow rosette at the conjunction of the cross's bars kind of sorrowful breast-pin, so to say.
Cross, "about her admirin' of en, ye know." "Well, he be a very modest man, Robert be; he didn't take much notice. 'Fancy that! says he, when I did tell en." "Fancy that!" had also been Mrs. Cross's inward comment, on first hearing of the effect produced by Mr. Robert Domeny on the impressionable Mrs. Maidment; for if truth be told he was anything but an Adonis.
"I know he walked down the holler to see John Cross's kids." "Hish!" she cried, looking about in alarm, as though the doctor had gone off on a murderous expedition. "You can jist say he won't be home till it's late. I guess there'll be no harm in them knowin' that. Now mind." Elsie gave a parting glance full of warning, and Tim answered with a solemn wink.
That stealthy and shamefaced act of self-denial for Christ's sake and for His cross's sake will lay the foundation of a habit of self-denial; ere ever you are aware of what you are doing the habit will consolidate into a character; and what you begin little by little in the body will be made perfect in the soul; till what you did, almost against His command and altogether without His example, yet because you did it for His sake and in His service, will have placed you far up among those who have forsaken all, and themselves also, to follow Jesus Christ, Son of Man and Son of God.
"Because I wanted to see you. My errand wasn't finished till I had given you Philip Cross's message. 'Tell that Dutchman, he said, 'if you can contrive to do it without peril to yourself, that when I come into the Valley I will cut out his heart, and feed it to a Missisague dog!" The Message Sent Ahead from the Invading Army.
During the fall and winter of '87 and the winter and spring of '88, I wrote the most of the stories in Main-Travelled Roads, a novelette for the Century Magazine, and a play called "Under the Wheel." The actual work of the composition was carried on in the south attic room of Doctor Cross's house at 21 Seaverns Avenue, Jamaica Plain.
Then Joe Cross's cry, "All aboard!" rang out, followed by a stentorian cheer, and amidst the rush and hurry the tiller slipped from the boy's hand and he was climbing over the thwarts to spring into the fore-chains.
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