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Updated: June 3, 2025
Tatt's part, as being indecorous, unprofessional, and unbusiness-like. You thoroughly understand, Mr. Scutt?" Mr. Scutt bowed reverently. Mr. Nawby went on. "If your business connection, sir, with that party," he said, addressing Matthew, and indicating Mr. The late Miss Grice has left neither letters nor papers.
I only wish you had begun by telling me of that, the moment you came into the room!" Saying this, he began to read Mr. Thorpe's letter. When he had finished it, and looked up at Mat, the tears were in his eyes. "I can't help it," said the simple-hearted painter. "It would even affect you, Mr. Grice, to be addressed in such terms of humiliation as these.
And what business had you to think, coming trespassing here on my ground, and breaking the hedges! I'd have you up for that, if for nothing else, you young vagabond!" "Oh, don't, don't! I'm Henry Merrifield!" "I don't care if you're Henry Merry Andrew!" said Farmer Grice, who was a surly man, and had a grudge of long standing against the Captain, for withstanding him at the Board of Guardians.
Exaggerated reports spread from mouth to mouth, each teller of the story adding to it some details drawn from his own imagination, until, away down in the Second Form, it was confidently asserted that Oaks had called Mr. Grice a "little tin monkey," and that Allingford had boxed the master's ears; which enormities would most certainly result in the expulsion of the two offenders.
While he was inside the shop, he had been trying in vain to call to mind where he had heard the name of Bangbury before: the moment he was in the street, the lost remembrance came back to him. Surely, Bangbury was the place where Joanna Grice had told him that Mary was buried! After walking a few paces, he came to a large linen-draper's shop, with plenty of light in the window.
But besides that, I have had a heavy trial to bear, in hearing the dreadful secret, which you all kept from me when it was discovered; and afterwards in parting from Matthew Grice. "What I felt when I knew the secret, and heard why Mat and all of you had kept it from me, I may be able to tell you but I cannot and dare not write about it.
"I only mean that I never heard a word about the villain I don't so much as know his name." "You don't?" He fastened his eyes suspiciously on her as he said those two words. "No; as true as I stand here I don't. Why, I didn't even know that your poor dear sister's name was Grice till you told me." His look of suspicion began to change to a look of amazement as he heard this.
In the spring of 1830 Hezekiah Grice of Baltimore, who had become personally acquainted with the work of Lundy and Garrison, sent a letter to prominent Negroes in the free states bringing in question the general policy of emigration. received no immediate response, but in August he received from Richard Allen an urgent request to come at once to Philadelphia.
"And well we know how to guard it, captin!" cried the same ominous voice; and there was a buzz from the length of the company. The captain and the two subs. came together behind the marching line. "They seem a bit out of hand," murmured the captain. "Bedad," said the Galway boy, "they mean to scoot like redshanks." "They nearly broke when the blacks showed on the hill," said Grice.
I can't get them," said Hal, falling back into misery. "You should have thought of that before you shot poor old Tom Turkey!" quoth Farmer Grice. "But what in the world shall I ever do?" said Henry. "That's for you to settle, sir," said the farmer, taking up the unlucky gun. "I shall take this, and keep it out of further harm." "Oh pray, pray!" cried Henry. "It is not my gun; it is Mr.
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