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Updated: June 8, 2025
Hartopp, who, though not brilliant, did not want for sense, and was a keener observer than was generally supposed, divined the kindly intentions of his assistant. "A gentleman interested in the Gatesboro' Athenaeum. My foreman, sir, Mr. Williams, the treasurer of our institute. Take a chair, Williams." "You said to amuse, Mr. Chapman, but " "You did not find Professor Long on conchology amusing."
Darrell, that made one love him positively love him; and when I had to tell him that I had given up the child he trusted to my charge, and saw his grief, I felt a criminal myself." Darrell said nothing, but the character of his face was entirely altered stern, hard, relentless the face of an inexorable judge. Hartopp, lifting his eyes suddenly to that countenance, recoiled in awe.
He was an Englishman all right a cut below middle class; you could tell that by the way he clipped his initial h's off and on. I tried the ice at first it's always best when you don't know the exact thickness of your frozen water. The way I tried it was to toss a flower or two at Maisie Hartopp and her "Jo-Jo" song.
Hartopp was a notable instance of a truth not commonly recognized; namely, that affection is power, and that, if you do make it thoroughly and unequivocally clear that you love your neighbours, though it may not be quite so well as you love yourself, still, cordially and disinterestedly, you will find your neighbours much better fellows than Mrs.
George Morley!" "Mr. Hartopp! How are you, my dear sir? What brings you so far from home?" "I am on a visit to my daughter, Anna Maria. She has not been long married to young Jessop. Old Jessop is one of the principal merchants at Ouzelford very respectable worthy family.
Does she want a good word spoken for her? Heaven has written it in her face." Hartopp persisted no more; the excellent man was sincerely grieved at his visitor's obstinate avoidance of the true question at issue; for the Mayor could have found employment for a man of Waife's evident education and talent. But such employment would entail responsibilites and trust.
Taken in! taken in at last! he, Josiah Hartopp, taken in by a fellow with one eye! The Mayor is so protected that be cannot help himself. A commotion without, a kind of howl, a kind of hoot. Mr. Williams, the warehousemen, the tanners, Mike Callaghan, share between them the howl and the hoot. The Mayor started: is it possible!
Gradually the farm became his fee-simple, and the farmhouse expanded into a villa. Wealth and honours flowed in from a brimmed horn. The surliest man in the town would have been ashamed of saying a rude thing to Jos. Hartopp. If he spoke in public, though he hummed and hawed lamentably, no one was so respectfully listened to.
The Lodge-keeper had been promoted to keeper, vice the murderous fisherman, and his wife made much of the boys. The man, too, gave them a squirrel, which they presented to the Natural History Society; thereby checkmating little Hartopp, who wished to know what they were doing for Science.
He was unlucky in that his conscience as a house-master impelled him to consult his associates. Had he taken his pipe and his troubles to little Hartopp's rooms he would, perhaps, have been saved confusion, for Hartopp believed in boys, and knew something about them. His fate led him to King, a fellow house-master, no friend of his, but a zealous hater of Stalky & Co.
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