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Updated: October 21, 2025
"You are late abroad, Mr Bird," said Margaret. "I should not have looked for you here so far on in the evening." "What's your will?" said the old man. "Grandfather won't go home ever, till they have done here," said a great-grandchild of the old man, running up from his amusement of hooting to the owls in the church tower.
Upon the debate of this prerogative, every one, to make himself equal to him, alleged, this one extraction, that another; this, the near resemblance of name, that, of arms; another, an old worm-eaten patent; the very least of them was great-grandchild to some foreign king.
Busters!" looking wonderfully knowing, and, with feeble forefinger raised, nodding and winking at his great-grandchild, as it were across the slim gulf of a hundred years which divided the gleeful boyhood of Joe from the second childhood of the ancient dreamer. The next day came Adsly and his men again, with Cap'en Slade and his tackle, and several yokes of oxen with drivers.
Marrable had gone away from home ostensibly to welcome into the world a great-grandchild, the announcement that one had arrived preceded her return nearly a week. Other instances might be adduced of very old matriarchs who have imagined themselves Juno, as she certainly did. Juno, one may reasonably suppose, did not feel free to depart until matters had been put on a comfortable footing.
But the great and glorious festival of Chantebled at that period was the birth of Mathieu and Marianne's first great-grandchild a girl, called Angeline, daughter of their granddaughter, Berthe. In this little girl, all pink and white, the ever-regretted Blaise seemed to live again.
It was Jessie McIntyre, his great-grandchild, who had captured the heart of young Desbra. One rosy September afternoon, as Jessie stood in the porch where the wild grapes clustered half ripe, the young Englishman came swinging his long legs up the slope, sprang over the fence between the apple trees, and caught the maiden gleefully in his arms.
Gillespie, the great-grandchild of Benjamin Franklin, was one of my earliest Philadelphia friends a splendid type of the independent woman, a bit of the martinet, but immensely full of kindness and humor. She had a word to say in all Philadelphian matters. It would be difficult to imagine a greater contrast to Mrs. Gillespie of Philadelphia than Mrs.
Frost it was pain to leave what she owned, with thankful tears, to have been a happy, peaceful refuge for her widowhood and poverty; she grieved over each parting, clung to the Faithfulls, reiterated fond counsels to Isabel, and could hardly bear to detach herself from the great-grandchild.
At a town in Gloucestershire the relatives as below, recently surrounded one dinner-table: One great-grandfather, two grandfathers, one grandmother, three fathers, two mothers, four children, three grand-children, ore great-grandchild, three sisters, one brother, two husbands, two wives, one mother-in-law, one father-in-law, two brothers-in-law, three sisters-in-law, one son-in-law, two daughters-in-law, two uncles, three aunts, one nephew, two nieces, and two cousins.
She would not have been the great-grandchild of a slave of Louisiana, if she had not combined with the natural energy of her hatreds a considerable amount of superstition. A fortune-teller had once foretold, from the lines in her palm, that she would cause the violent death of some person.
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