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Updated: April 30, 2025
During these first two days I made many observations from my windows, and asked numberless questions of the bell-boy. The bell-boy whom I have mentioned was the factotum of the Loomis House, being, in an emergency, hack-driver, porter, runner all by turns, and nothing long at a time.
So while the man next the hack-driver, ordered by Mandeville and laden with travelling-bags, climbed to a seat by the Callenders' coachman the aide-de-camp crowded in between Constance and Victorine, the equipage turned from the remaining soldiers, and off the ladies spun for home, Anna and Miranda riding backward to have the returned warrior next his doting wife.
An exclamation of surprise and alarm brought both Mr. and the hack-driver to her side. In attempting to raise Marshall to his feet, he groaned heavily, and writhed with a sensation of pain. Something dark upon the pavement attracted the eye of his wife. She touched it with her hand, to which it adhered, with a moist, oily feeling.
For the hack-driver personally I have great respect.
"Then it was some cabman or hack-driver she hailed. Were there any empty coaches about that you saw?" The boy had not noticed. He had reached the limit of his observations, and no amount of further questioning could elicit anything more from him. This Mr.
Mother Anastasia burst into a laugh. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself for making a person of my position behave so giddily in the presence of a hack-driver." We now reached the carriage, and I assisted her to enter it. "Good-morning," she said, her face still perturbed by her suddenly checked merriment, "and do not forget the counsels I have given you."
"That it is, Marm," returns the methodical hack-driver, "he an't got a very big head, our corporation." And Lady Swiggs, deprived of her carpet-bag and band-box, and considerably out of patience, is rolled away to the mansion of Sister Slocum, on Fourth Avenue.
The hack-driver of the old days that I used to find waiting for me at the station curb, with that impossible horse of his the hack-driver with his bulbous red face, and the nice smell of rye whisky all 'round him for yards gone, so it seems, for ever. And in place of him this what is it they call it? taxi, with a clean-shaven cut-throat steering it. "Get in," he says, Just that.
"Oh! come and see me!" snarled the strange boy, in a contemptuous tone, cocking his fists up in a scientific manner, and dropping into a stoop- shouldered swagger that would have driven envy into the heart of a bullying hack-driver. "Git the bloke on his pins!" he sneered, turning to the crowd. "S'pose I'm goin' to hit a man w'en he's down?" But his antagonist needed no such assistance.
Nat, the ``bucket-maker, grave and sober, left the seas, and, I believe, is a hack-driver in his native town, although I have not had the luck to see him since the Alert hauled into her berth at the North End. One cold winter evening, a pull at the bell, and a woman in distress wished to see me. There he lay, not over nineteen years of age, ruined by every vice a sailor's life absorbs.
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