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Updated: June 14, 2025
Ormiston put in. John Knott limped forward. He stood with his hands behind him looking down at the two ladies. Some months had elapsed since he and Miss St. Quentin had met. He was very fond of the young lady. It interested him to meet her again. Honoria glanced up at him smiling. "Have you been out too?" she asked. "Not a bit of it.
Knott, she has asked me to go on to Brockhurst from here. It seems that though Richard refuses to see any one, except you of course, and Julius March, he fusses at his mother being so much alone. What ought I to do? I feel rather uncertain. I have fought him, I own I have. We have never been friends, he and I. He doesn't like me. He's no reason to like me anything but! What do you say?
At the head of the elm avenue, passing through the high, wrought-iron gates and along the carriage drive which skirts the said enclosure, the great, square grass plot on the right hand, the red wall of the kitchen gardens on the left, Dr. Knott had the reins nearly jerked out of his hand.
"Really, Peter, you try me pretty high. It's give, give, give. You seem to think that I've got a bottomless pocket." "Not exactly bottomless, Stephen." "But I say you do. I can't go on like this. Every day there's some new demand. Look at this." He took a type-written letter from the table and handed it to his friend. Peter Knott stuck his eyeglass into his eye and slowly read the letter.
Assuming the manner of one of the regulars, Knott unhesitatingly answered that he was. "Well," said the visitor, "I thought I would drap in and git you to fetch a few suits for me." Picking up his pen with the air of a man with whom suing people was an everyday, matter-of-course sort of affair, Knott said: "Who did you wish to sue?"
He ate and drank sparingly; but he was not proof against the seduction of good company, and he had plenty of it, from William Preston to Joseph Jefferson, with such side lights as Stoddard Johnston, Boyd Winchester, Isaac Caldwell and Proctor Knott, of the Home Guard very nearly all the celebrities of the day among the outsiders myself the humble witness and chronicler.
Gudrun and Olof were their daughters. Thorbjorg, Olaf's daughter, was of women the most beautiful and stout of build. She was called Thorbjorg the Stout, and was married west in Waterfirth to Asgier, the son of Knott. He was a noble man. Their son was Kjartan, father of Thorvald, the father of Thord, the father of Snorri, the father of Thorvald, from whom is sprung the Waterfirth race.
He told Peter Knott he was sorry for the old man being so lonely, and that his wife was his favourite niece and much attached to him; but Jack declared that his uncle was horribly mean, and only tolerated Baxendale because he could get dinner at his house for nothing. At the beginning of the War Baxendale began complaining about his nerves.
Knott, I would like to have your judgment as to which is the best play, Hamlet or Macbeth." Gazing earnestly at his inquisitor, and in a tone at once deprecatory and inimitable, Knott replied: "My friend, don't ask me that question.
Yet later, and as the shadows were beginning to fall to the eastward, he was, almost by common acclaim, called to the chief executive office of the commonwealth. It may truly be said of him that "with clear head, and with clean hands, he faithfully discharged every public trust." Mr. Knott entered Congress just at the close of the great Civil War.
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