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Hae ye killt yer moose yet? Ye've been chasin' him these mony years." "Not much murdering," replied Hemenway. "I had a queer trip this time away up the Nepissiguit, with old McDonald. You know him, don't you?" "Fine do I ken Rob McDonald, an' a guid mon he is. Hoo was it that ye couldna slaughter stacks o' moose wi' him to help ye? Did ye see nane at all?"
From this neighborhood there was excavated a few years ago a beautiful collection of ancient mortuary pottery objects, which was purchased by Mrs Mary Hemenway, of Boston, and is now in the Peabody Museum at Cambridge.
Ol' man Hemenway lived here then with his daughter Jess. She kep' house fer him. Jess was a great gal. Every man along the flume, from Skyland to Mill Flat, was in love with her. Shape? You couldn't beat that there gal for figger if yeh was to round up every actress in the country. She had a pair o' big round baby-blue eyes, an' was as pretty as any o' them there cigarette picters.
This blade is now deposited with the Hemenway collection in the Peabody Museum at Cambridge. The mission church of San Bernardino de Awatobi was erected very early in the history of the Spanish occupancy, and its ruined walls are the only ones now standing above the surface.
Weel, Dud, are ye glad? Ye hae kilt yer first moose!" "Yes," said Hemenway, "it's my first moose. But it's your first moose, too. And I think it's our last. Ye gods, what a fighter!" Copyright, 1907, by Charles Scribner's Sons. Used by permission of the publishers. II. The Wild-Horse Hunter By Zane Grey
The engineer was leaning on one arm, with his head out of the cab window, and Hemenway nodded as he passed and hurried into the ticket office, where the ticktack of a conversation by telegraph was soon under way. The black porter of the Pullman car was looking out from the vestibule, and when he saw Hemenway his sleepy face broadened into a grin reminiscent of many generous tips. "Howdy, Mr.
"Yes, after being trained by your humble servant. What do you say?" "I thank you for your flattering offer, Dr. Brown, but I don't feel at liberty to leave Professor Hemenway." The doctor frowned. "Let me tell you, you stand in your own light, Mr. Vane," he said, impatiently.
Hemenway and McLeod clambered down and ran back, with the other trainmen and a few of the passengers. The moose was lying in the ditch beside the track, stone dead and frightfully shattered. But the great head and the vast spreading antlers were intact. "Seelverhorrns, sure enough!" said McLeod, bending over him. "He was crossin' frae the Nepisiguit to the Jacquet; but he didna get across.
It was demolished long before I left Cambridge, but in memory it still stands on the ground since occupied by the Hemenway Gymnasium, and shows for me through that bulk a phantom frame of Continental buff in the shadow of elms that are shadows themselves.
"Didn't you, indeed? Then you shall see me perform to-night. I am to give a magical soiree in Conway, the town we are coming to." "I should like it very much, Mr. " and Harry paused in doubt. "I am called Professor Hemenway Hiram Hemenway," said the magician. "Do you like your business?" asked Harry, curiously. "Why shouldn't I? I have a chance to travel.
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