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Updated: May 9, 2025
Hackney coaches had to be especially ordered. The only public conveyance was a rickety old omnibus which, making hourly trips, plied its lazy journey between the Navy Yard and Georgetown. There was a livery stable Kimball's having "stalls," as the sleeping apartments above came to be called, thus literally serving man and beast. These stalls often lodged very distinguished people.
When no longer able to bear the uncertainty, he crept from the stage with the lantern, and examined the recent scene of a furious struggle. There were only two slain the driver and one of Red Kimball's companions. Either Kimball and his other comrade had escaped, or had been captured. If any of the attacking party had fallen, the bodies had been borne away.
One of his relatives declares that although like other loyal citizens he turned out at Lexington on the famous nineteenth of April and marched to Roxbury with Captain Kimball's company he often humorously asserted afterward that the musket he carried had no lock on it. The omission, however, did not appear to trouble him; on the contrary, it rather pleased him.
"After walking across a short plank we enter Kimball's Music Hall, a very beautiful room settled between two crevices and lined with box work. Viewing the ceiling from the fissure on the right it is seen to be smooth and fringed with pop-corn. In some places the boxes are closed, resembling finished honey-comb. Over head box work can be seen as high as the light penetrates.
There goes the artillery now there goes Rockbridge! Yes, sir! Attention! Fall in!" In double column almost the entire fighting force of the Army of the Valley crossed the endless open meadow beneath Kimball's batteries. That the latter's range was poor was a piece of golden fortune. The shells crossed to the wood or exploded high in blue air.
Kimball's talk by long odds, 'n' so far from turnin' into a egg-beater in the wink of your eye like he promised, you 've got to grip it fast between your knees 'n' get your back ag'in a flour-bin to turn it into anythin' a tall. 'N' then when it does turn, so far from bein' a joy it lets up so quick 't you find yourself most anywhere. Mrs.
Chief Kimball's plan is that there shall be an unbroken line of sentries along this dangerous coast during the six stormy months." When the hearty old captain had left us, and we found our way again across the marshes, the solitude of the night and stormy sky and the moaning sea became oppressive again, and took on all their old meaning of death and disaster.
Men, everywhere, unfortunately, tend little toward the error of bashfulness in their chat among each other, but most of us at the East would feel that we were insulting the lowest member of the demi-monde, if we uttered before her a single sentence of the talk which forms the habitual staple of all Heber Kimball's public sermons to the wives and daughters who throng the Sunday Tabernacle.
They were, evidently, for she gave utterance a sigh of relief when she drew a bundle of crackling documents from a side pocket of the valise, under a pile of filmy lace, at the sight of which Cora and the girls uttered exclamations of delight. Inez heard them. "Take it take it all!" she begged of them, thrusting into Mrs. Kimball's hands a mass of the beautiful cob-webby stuff.
"Lieutenant Commander Kimball's compliments, sir," reported the second lieutenant. "He will put in an appearance as soon as that cylinder has been investigated. He has sent me with instructions to see what had best be done." "I don't believe there's much doubt as to what had best be done," replied Captain Jack, quickly. "Williamson reports having cut a wire that was attached to that cylinder.
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