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"Decidedly, there is," answered the minister; "all the difference which has helped to bring this new day I'm talking about, and to produce such Negro leaders as William Hightower. "Well, what's the matter with that?" retorted J.W. "Seems to me it's common sense." "Possibly," Mr. Drury answered, dryly.
Hightower, with all her lack of experience, was capable of feeling that Sis Poteet needed the by no means unsubstantial encouragement that lies in one little note of sympathy, and she was not at all astonished when Sis responded to her intention by giving her a smart little hug. Presently Mrs.
"Why, yes," J.W. answered, "it might. You know I used to go with the bunch to Saint Marks when Brother Officer was pastor, but I haven't been since he left. I'd like to see what the new preacher is doing, and it ought to be worth something to hear a Negro alumnus of Yale." William Hightower, it seemed, was the speaker's name a strong-voiced; confident man in his thirties.
He lighted their pipes, and even filled them out of his own tobacco-pouch, a proceeding which caused Mrs. Mrs. Hightower found early opportunity to deliver her verdict in Sis's ear, whereupon the latter gave her a little hug, and whispered: "Oh, I just think he's adorable!" It was very queer, however, that as soon as Sis was left to entertain Mr.
The carpets and hangings were a bit faded, but the rooms were generously broad, the chairs, as the old man remarked, were "made to sit in," and the cuisine was held, by a few knowing old epicures who still frequented the place, to be superior even to that of the more pretentious Hightower. The service, it is true, was apt to be slow.
On that occasion I had stopped some days with a Colonel Tumlin, to see some remarkable Indian mounds on the Etowah River, usually called the "Hightower:" I therefore knew that the Allatoona Pass was very strong, would be hard to force, and resolved not even to attempt it, but to turn the position, by moving from Kingston to Marietta via.
Sid'll be a-peggin' out airter a while, s' I, 'an' ef the new chap's ez purty ez I hear tell, maybe I'll set my cap fer 'im, s' I." At this fat Mrs. Puritha Hightower was compelled to lean on frail Mrs. Puss Poteet, so heartily did she laugh. "I declar'," she exclaimed, "ef Sue hain't a sight! I'm mighty nigh outdone.
"If you will go with me, Squire, we'll call by for Brother Gossett and Colonel Hightower, and if I'm not mistaken we'll find the cotton not far from here." "Well, sir," said the Squire, indignantly, "you won't find it on the Carew place. I'll go wi' you and welcome. We don't need no search warrant."
He brought Billy Brue with him, a person whose exact social status some of Percival's friends were never able to fix with any desirable certainty. Thus, Percival had presented the old man, the morning after his arrival, to no less a person than Herbert Delancey Livingston, with whom he had smoked a cigar of unusual excellence in the cafe of the Hightower Hotel. "If you fancy that weed, Mr.
"Buck Hightower," says Will, pounding on the desk, "you will please come to order." Which Buck done it. "Now," says the chairman, turning toward Doctor Kirby, who had been setting there looking thoughtful from one man to another, like he was sizing each one up, "now I must explain to the chief defendant that we don't intend to lynch him."
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