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Updated: June 9, 2025
For another misfortune which occurred in Our Street we were much more compassionate. We liked Danby Dixon, and his wife Fanny Dixon still more. Miss C. had a paper of biscuits and a box of preserved apricots always in the cupboard, ready for Dixon's children provisions by the way which she locked up under Mrs. Cammysole's nose, so that our landlady could by no possibility lay a hand on them.
Two or three of the sophomores, when they saw how things were going, set up a yell, but Griffin struck out and sent one of them flying one way and his hat another, so the yells ended. Howe and Murray Stuart took me up to their rooms, and Ruff went off for beefsteak for my eye, and treated the crowd who had come to the rescue, at Dixon's, to beer.
Hepworth Dixon's, which we were all reading lately, The Mormons, by One of Themselves. Here, again, I am not quite sure that my memory serves me as to the exact title, but I mean the well-known book in which Mr. Hepworth Dixon described the Mormons, and other similar religious bodies in America, with so much detail and such warm sympathy. In this work it seems enough for Mr.
'Delicacy, said he 'delicacy surely I have heard that word before! Yes, in other days, he went on dreamily, 'in my fresh enthusiastic youth; before I knew Sala, before I wrote for that infernal paper, before I called Dixon's style lithe and sinewy 'Collect yourself, my friend, laying my hand on his shoulder; 'you are unmanned.
I reckon they'll put me in the Fourth." "I see. How's everything below the Line?" "Below the line?" repeated Clint. "Yes, Mason and Dixon's. You're from the South, aren't you?" "Oh! Yes, I come from Virginia; Cedar Run." The other chuckled. "What state did you say?" he asked. "Virginia," responded Clint innocently. "Great! 'Vay-gin-ya." He shook his head. "No, I can't get it."
A concentration of these two forces was made at Dixon's ferry, on Rock river, about thirty miles below the encampment of Black Hawk and his party. Had a conference now been sought with the Indians, their prompt submission cannot be doubted.
She looked forward with longing, though unspoken interest to the homely object of Dixon's return from Milton; where, until now, the old servant had been busily engaged in winding up all the affairs of the Hale family. It had appeared a sudden famine to her heart, this entire cessation of any news respecting the people amongst whom she had lived so long.
Although the free colored numbers varied greatly from state to state, their distribution on the two sides of Mason and Dixon's line maintained a remarkable equality throughout the antebellum period. The chief concentration was in the border states of either section.
He was trying to drive them off, after a gruff word to Dixon, when he was suddenly brought to a standstill by the sight of the woman on the steps. "D n it! whom have you got here?" he said, fiercely perceiving at the same moment the open windows on the ground floor. "Muster Melrose it's noan o' my doin'," was Dixon's trembling reply, as he pointed a shaky finger at the windows.
For it was his senior subaltern, and a bullet had entered his head from behind just above the neck. It had come out at his forehead, and we will not specify further. "Stretcher bearers at once." He went back to the group he had just left. "Mr. Dixon has been shot through the parapet, farther up." "Killed, sir?" The N.C.O. in charge was in Dixon's platoon. "Yes." The Company Officer was laconic.
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