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Updated: June 1, 2025
So you're the spy, are you?" Mr. Hopper passed a heavy hand across the cheek where Stephen had struck him. "No, I ain't the spy," he said, with a meaning glance at the Colonel. "Then what are you doing here?" demanded Clarence, fiercely. "I cal'late that he knows," Eliphalet replied, jerking his head toward Colonel Carvel. "Where's his Confederate uniform?
"Once upon a time," began Uncle Larry "in fact, a very few years ago there lived in the thriving town of New York a young American called Duncan Eliphalet Duncan. Like his name, he was half Yankee and half Scotch, and naturally he was a lawyer, and had come to New York to make his way. His father was a Scotchman, who had come over and settled in Boston, and married a Salem girl.
But she never loved to: she wus a woman who loved to be still, and be kinder settled down at home. But she loved Eliphalet so well, she would do any thing to please him: so she rode round with him on that circuit, till she was perfectly fagged out. He was a dretful good man to her; but he wus kinder poor, and they had hard times to get along.
On the contrary, as soon as Eliphalet and the officer went into the house, there began at once a series of spiritualistic manifestations, a regular dark séance. A tambourine was played upon, a bell was rung, and a flaming banjo went singing around the room." "Where did they get the banjo?" asked Dear Jones sceptically. "I don't know. Materialized it, maybe, just as they did the tambourine.
Hopper, with a remarkable ease, "I cal'late these notes can be met." The Colonel jumped as if he had heard a shot, and one of the notes fell to the floor. Eliphalet picked it up tenderly, and held it. "What do you mean, sir?" Mr. Carvel cried. "There isn't a bank in town that will lend me money. I I haven't a friend a friend I may ask who can spare it, sir." Mr. Hopper lifted up his hand.
Truly, events were in the air, great events in which he had no part. As he stood leaning against a tree-box by the curb, dragged down once more by that dreaded feeling of detachment, he heard familiar voices close beside him. Leaning forward, he saw Eliphalet Hopper and Mr. Cluyme. It was Mr. Cluyme who was speaking. "Well, Mr.
"You go inside, or you'll take cold." Mr. Renault protested, asked about all the residents of Gravois way, and finally obeyed. Eliphalet's heart was in his mouth. A bolder spirit would have dashed for liberty. Eliphalet did not possess that kind of bravery. He was waiting for the Captain to turn toward his wagon. He looked down the area instead, with the light from the street lamp on his face.
Eliphalet Congdon was the last man Archie would have expected to yield to the Governor's wizardry, or hypnotism, or whatever it was that caused people to submit to him; but the old man's face expressed infinite relief now that the Governor had so insolently assumed the rôle of dictator in his affairs.
Eliphalet Duncan went to the White Mountains, and in the car of the railroad that runs to the top of Mount Washington he met a classmate whom he had not seen for years, and this classmate introduced Duncan to his sister, and this sister was a remarkably pretty girl, and Duncan fell in love with her at first sight, and by the time he got to the top of Mount Washington he was so deep in love that he began to consider his own unworthiness, and to wonder whether she might ever be induced to care for him a little ever so little."
Refreshing himself with a little tobacco, he let himself be carried leisurely by the crowd between the rows of tents. He imagined his own figure, which was already growing a little stout, in a light gray jacket and duck trousers, and laughed. Eliphalet was not burdened with illusions of that kind. These heroes might have their hero-worship. Life held something dearer for him.
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