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Updated: May 7, 2025
"I am very grateful, Miss Judd," replied I; "I hope I shall prove that I am attached when you confide in me." "Swear then, by all that's sacred, you will not reveal what I do confide." "By all that's sacred I will not," replied I, kissing her hand with more fervour than I expected from myself. "Do me then the favour to excuse me one minute."
Moreover, their pride was morbid, and they were very religious. Indeed, they used religion to cloak their deviltry, as honestly as it was ever used in history. He had heard old Judd say once, when he was speaking of the feud: "Well, I've al'ays laid out my enemies. The Lord's been on my side an' I gits a better Christian every year."
The fracas which followed the Hawk's escape from the trap was bloody and grim enough, and resulted in the erasure of Judd and all his men save one; but the important thing to the following affair was that Judd's ship, the Scorpion, fell into Carse's hands with one prisoner and the ship's log, containing the space coordinates for a prearranged assignation of Judd with Ku Sui.
In concluding this highly instructive and interesting memoir of the volcanic rocks of Hungary, Professor Judd says: "The mineral veins of Hungary and Transylvania, with their rich deposits of gold and silver, cannot be of older date than the Miocene, while some of them are certainly more recent than the Pliocene.
Another remarkable case is mentioned and figured by Judd, where one of the Lipari Isles, composed of pumice and rising out of the Mediterranean, has been breached by a lava-stream of obsidian. Loc. cit., p. 123. Reyer has produced such dome-shaped masses by forcing a quantity of plaster of Paris in a pasty condition up through an orifice in a board; referred to by Judd, loc. cit., p. 125.
Turning into Forty-sixth Street, note a house distinguished from its neighbors by a doorway of wrought-iron, where John A. Mitchell did much of the writing of Amos Judd. Across town, where Fifty-first Street touches the East River, is a street so short and so out-of-the-way that few New Yorkers have ever heard of it.
The purple rhododendrons on Bee Rock had come and gone and the pink-flecked laurels were in bloom when June fared forth one sunny morning of her own birth-month behind old Judd Tolliver home.
The next day some of us gathered in Dickinson's office and decided that Grierson should go ahead and get the options. This was done; not, of course, in Grierson's name. The next move, before the formation of the Riverside Company, was to "see" Mr. Judd Jason. The success or failure of the enterprise was in his hands.
It was a strange girl, who asked in a meek voice: "Is this Hillcrest Lodge?" "It is," replied the lawyer. The girl came in without an invitation, bringing a carpet-bag in one hand and a bundle tied in a newspaper tucked under the other arm. As she stood in the lighted room she looked around inquiringly and said: "I am Sarah Judd. Where is Mrs. Morrison, please?" Mr.
Would you like me to hand you over the Judd family en bloc?" This was startling to the amateur philanthropist. But it is the way of all professionals to regard their own business as of absorbing interest to the outside world.
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