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Updated: May 25, 2025
On subsequent occasions, and in more extended conversation with the Colonel, it was retailed to him in full. Nannie Hedden, or Mrs. John Alexander Fleming, or Mrs. Ira George Carter, or Hattie Starr, was by birth a descendant of a long line of Virginia and Kentucky Heddens and Colters, related in a definite or vague way to half the aristocracy of four or five of the surrounding states.
Paine that if he died without believing in the Lord Jesus Christ, he would be damned, and Paine replied: "Let me have none of your popish stuff. Good morning." Sherwin's Life of Paine, page 220. Mrs. Hedden. She told these same preachers, when they attempted to obtrude themselves upon Mr. Paine again, that the attempt to convert Mr.
His great white teeth were a terror to evil-doers, and his bark in the dead of night would make venturesome bears sneak back into the forest like kittens. Often would Mrs. Hedden say to her neighbors, that with "husband's rifle and Bouncer's teeth, she felt that she lived in a fortress.
Finally, neighbor Hedden arose, shoving back his stool on the sanded floor. "Well, well, wifey, you're right enough, no doubt; but I tell you it isn't best to be too easy with youngsters, though ours are the best going, if I do say it.
And Bessie, too, was there before they knew it. Such laughter such tears such shouts of rejoicing had never been known in the Hedden cottage before! Soon the barking of a dog was heard. Rudolph sprang from his father's arms: "Oh, it's Bouncer!" he cried; "let me see him. Here, Bouncer!"
Even the gnarled roots of a fallen tree were dabbled with a fearful stain. He could see it all distinctly. With upraised arms, he knelt and poured forth an agonized prayer "Great God! where are my children? Oh! have mercy! have mercy!" Flash after flash lighted up the kneeling form. Presently loud voices resounded through the forest: "What, ho!" "Hedden! Hedden!" "Hennessy! Tom!" "Hallo!"
"It's all your fault, for proposing such a fool trick as capturing Tom Swift. We might have known he would get the best of us." "What was that stuff he used, anyhow?" asked Cecil Hedden, the lad responsible for the organization of the Deep Forest Throng. "He must be a wonder. Does he do sleight-of-hand tricks?"
"That'll fetch them, I reckon," said neighbor Hedden, showing a smiling face at the window. As another hour passed away, the songs grew fewer and fainter upon the mother's lips at first from vexation, and, finally, from weariness and a vague feeling of anxiety. "Bessie should know better," she thought to herself, "than to stay so long. I wish I had not let Kitty go with them."
Why didn't I ask John to go look for them?" she asked herself over and over again. But Mrs. Hedden was not one to sit weeping with folded hands while anything remained to be done. It was not long before their nearest neighbor, who was still at work, enjoying the coolness of the afternoon, leaned upon his spade to wonder what on earth neighbor Hedden's wife was up to now. "Why, look there!
Bob," he called out to his son, "if she ain't leaping over this way like a year-old colt!" In the mean time, neighbor Hedden himself was having but sorry sport in the forest.
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