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Updated: May 6, 2025
The farcical ceremony of electing two representatives who had no real constituency behind them was put an end to by the Reform Act of 1832. Wilton, the seat of the Earl of Pembroke, within an easy drive's distance from Salisbury, was the first nobleman's residence I saw in my early visit. Not a great deal of what I then saw had survived in my memory.
And when Hell's Half-Mile was thus in full eruption, the citizens of Redding stayed away from Water Street after dark. "Drive's in," said they, and had business elsewhere. And the next group of rivermen, hurrying toward the fun, broke into an eager dog-trot. "Taking the old town apart to-night," they told each other. "Let's get in the game." To-night, however, the street was comparatively quiet.
The main drive's got to be sorted." "There ought to be plenty of good men," said Fox. "There are, but they're at work." "Dicky Darrell is over at Marion," spoke up one of the scalers. "Roaring Dick," said Tally sarcastically, " but there's no denying he's a good man in the woods. But if he's at Marion, he's drunk; and if he's drunk, you can't do nothing with him."
'Say, Charlie, he said, 'ain't it time for you to be starting? 'Where to? said I. 'Over to Stillwater, he said. 'There ain't any getting out of it. That drive's got to be running tomorrow. 'That's all right, said I, 'but I'd like to know if I can't have one day's rest between jobs Sunday, too. And I lost thirty-two pounds. Well, sir, he didn't know whether to get hot or not.
And every mile brought him nearer to Eva and safety. The coachman drove on in the teeth of the sleet and wondered what Sir Robert would give him at the drive's end.
I joined him, and together we followed the crowd to the river, where we roosted like cormorants on adjacent piles overlooking a patch of clear water among the filled booms. "Drive's just over," my new friend informed me. "Rear come down last night. Fourther July celebration. This little town will scratch fer th' tall timber along about midnight when the boys goes in to take her apart."
The little sawmill was going full blast under the handling of three men and a boy. Everything was done in the most primitive manner, by main strength, awkwardness, and old-fashioned tools. "Who's boss?" yelled Larsen against the clang of the mill. A slow, black-bearded man stepped forward. "What can I do for you?" he asked. "Our drive's hung up against your boom," yelled Larsen.
The farcical ceremony of electing two representatives who had no real constituency behind them was put an end to by the Reform Act of 1832. Wilton, the seat of the Earl of Pembroke, within an easy drive's distance from Salisbury, was the first nobleman's residence I saw in my early visit. Not a great deal of what I then saw had survived in my memory.
'Say, Charlie, he said, 'ain't it time for you to be starting? 'Where to? said I. 'Over to Stillwater, he said. 'There ain't any getting out of it. That drive's got to be running to-morrow. 'That's all right, said I, 'but I'd like to know if I can't have one day's rest between jobs Sunday, too. And I lost thirty-two pounds. Well, sir, he didn't know whether to get hot or not.
She turned upon him laughing, but also half crying, as he could tell by the flutter of her breath. He vowed he was not hurt, and once more changed both talk and tone. They reached the drive's end without a word of Wharton. But Marcella went to bed hating herself, and Aldous, after his solitary drive home, sat up long and late, feverishly pacing and thinking.
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