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Updated: May 16, 2025
Hopper's back to casual customers, and he was more than once seen to enter the president's room, which had carpet on the floor. Eliphalet's suavity with certain delinquent customers from the Southwest was A wording to Scripture. When they were profane, and invited him into the street, he reminded them that the city had a police force and a jail.
On the rough edges of society where he had spent most of his life, fellow craftsmen had frequently solicited his advice, chiefly as to the disposition of their ill-gotten gains or regarding safe harbors of refuge, but to be taken into counsel by the only gentlewoman he had ever met roused his self-respect, touched a chivalry that never before had been wakened in The Hopper's soul.
His name was Joe Hopper, a ne'er-do-well whose children, by working at the mill, supported him in idleness. Catching the child, he berated it and boxed its ears soundly. Jack was at work, but turning, and seeing the child chastised, he came at the man with quiet fury. With one huge hand in Joe Hopper's collar, he boxed his ears until he begged for mercy.
If there had been a violent gale of wind, all must have been inevitably lost. The passengers were generally in a state of extreme terror. Screams and groans were heard in every direction. But Friend Hopper's mind was preserved in a state of great equanimity.
Poe and Wordsworth and Scott he liked, but Tennyson was his favorite. Such happiness could not last. One afternoon when Virginia was sitting in the summer house alone, her thoughts wandering back, as they sometimes did, to another afternoon she had spent there, it seemed so long ago, when she saw Mammy Easter coming toward her. "Honey, dey's comp'ny up to de house. Mister Hopper's done arrived.
Madison grinned. "Some friends of the Hopper's. Mr. and Mrs. Thankoffering you'll like them immensely, Helena. The lady walks quite well now, and " "Walks!" exclaimed the Flopper, who evidently had not assimilated Madison's previous reference to Mrs. Thornton. "De lady dat I come wid in de private car walks?" "Of course," said Madison pleasantly. "Cured? All cured?" gasped the Flopper.
But after a plentiful application of, 'How dare you, Sir? If this gentleman catches you here again, he'll grind your bones to make John Hopper's bread. That's a good dog. No! Down! Stay where you are! Dash began to understand. It took many a wistful gaze of his brown eyes before he fully comprehended what I meant, but he learned it at last.
Alas, I have neither the skill nor the scalpel to show the diseases of Mr. Hopper's mind; if, indeed, he had any. Conscience, when contracted, is just as troublesome as croup. Mr. Hopper was thoroughly healthy. He had ambition, as I have said. But he was not morbidly sensitive.
One day, when the family were in the midst of washing, a man called at Isaac T. Hopper's house to buy soap fat, and was informed they had none to sell. A minute after he had passed out, the domestic came running in to say that he had stolen some of the children's clothes from the line. Friend Hopper followed him quickly, and called out, "Dost thou want to buy some soap-fat?
No matter what Mr. Hopper's politics, he would always be to her a low-born Yankee, a person wholly unworthy of notice. At the corner of Olive Street, a young man walking with long strides almost bumped into them. He paused looked back, and bowed as if uncertain of an acknowledgment. Virginia barely returned his bow.
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