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Dutton, though reserving his judgment till the books should have been thoroughly examined and the liabilities completely understood, was evidently inclined to believe that things had gone too far, and that the names of Greenleaf and Egremont could only be preserved from actual dishonour by going into liquidation, dissolving partnership, and thus getting quit of Goodenough.
Although I can hardly call myself a son of the ancient town, my grandmother, Sarah Greenleaf, of blessed memory, was its daughter, and I may therefore claim to be its grandson. Its genial and learned historian, Joshua Coffin, was my first school-teacher, and all my life I have lived in sight of its green hills and in hearing of its Sabbath bells.
"Hey for the tall archer!" shouted the crowd, and some among them shouted, "Hey for Reynold Greenleaf!" for this was the name that Little John had called himself that day. Then the Sheriff stepped down from the raised seat and came to where the archers stood, while all doffed their caps that saw him coming.
You can see them there on the left side." "How long has she been dead?" "I can't say definitely. I should guess about eight or ten hours anyway." That staggered Greenleaf, the idea of this woman dead here in the front room of a bungalow on Manniston Road for eight or ten hours and nobody knew anything about it! His agitation grew. He felt the need of doing something, starting something.
Meanwhile the minstrel proceeded with his explanation of the dubious and imperfect vaticinations of which we have given a sufficient specimen. "Could you wish," said he to Greenleaf, "a more exact description of the miseries which have passed over Scotland in these latter days?
Then she insisted on their laying off their things, and they laid them off because they always had when she asked them. "You've grown stout, Mary Greenleaf," said old Miss Pinsett. "I know I have," she answered, "and I'm not Mary Greenleaf, though I sent that name up to you I'm Mary Leonard." "I wondered if neither of you were married." "I'm a widow, Miss Pinsett," said Mary Leonard, soberly.
With much love to father, Mildred, you and all the dear friends, lovingly your little daughter, HELEN A. KELLER. TO JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER South Boston, Dec. 17, 1890.
His grandfather, Colonel Joseph Cilley, commanded a New Hampshire regiment during the Revolutionary War, and established a character for energy and intrepidity, of which more than one of his descendants have proved themselves the inheritors. Greenleaf Cilley, son of the preceding, died in 1808, leaving a family of four sons and three daughters.
"Wait!" he called to the chief. "Let me get it for you." Greenleaf, however, had gone into the kitchen. Bristow followed him and took a tumbler from a rack on the wall. The chief drew the tumbler full twice from the faucet and gulped down the water. His hand shook. He was very nervous.
I must tell thee, however, though I am loath to disturb our harmony, that thou art the first who hast adventured to speak a word before Gilbert Greenleaf in favour of that outlawed traitor, Robert Bruce, who has by his seditions so long disturbed the peace of this realm.
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