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Updated: May 20, 2025
Ed Adams give us a nut and we fixed the wheal. we had a ride tonite. i tell you lady Clara can go. we beat Gim Lovering tonite. he dident know who we was becaus it was two dark but we knowed him. we beat him and then we waited for him to come up and then we beat him agen. we did that 3 times, and Gim he was mad.
The following may be regarded as a complete list: James Simonds, James White, Jonathan Leavitt, Jonathan Simonds, Samuel Middleton, Peter Middleton, Edmund Black, Moses True, Reuben Stevens, John Stevens, John Boyd, Moses Kimball, Benjamin Dow, Thomas Jenkins, Batcheldor Ring, Rowley Andros, Edmund Butler, John Nason, Reuben Mace, Benjamin Wiggins, John Lovering, John Hookey, Rueben Sergeant, Benjamin Stanwood, Benjamin Winter, Anthony Dyer, Webster Emerson, George Carey, John Hunt, George Berry, Simeon Hillyard, Ebenezer Fowler, William Picket and Ezekiel Carr.
Any one reading the face of Lovering would have seen a change in its expression, the evidence of some quickly formed purpose, and he would have seen also something more than simple admiration of the beautiful girl leaning on the arm of his friend. His manner toward Whitford became more hearty.
"A coarse, vulgar-minded girl, of whom many light things have been said," replied Mrs. Lovering, indignantly. "But her father is rich, and she is an only child." "He never loved you, dear," said Mrs. Waring to Fanny about a week later, as the yet suffering girl laid her tearful face on her bosom. The news had just come that Miss Jerrold was the bride of Allen.
"Take a few sips of wine, and you will feel better." Lovering, with a glass in each hand, now joined them. He saw the change in Blanche's face, and having already observed the exhilarated condition of Whitford, understood its meaning. Handing the latter one of the glasses, he said: "Here's to your good health, Miss Birtwell, and to yours, Ellis," drinking as he spoke.
Lovering entered the room where this little scene had just transpired, and was quite startled at the aspect of affairs. "What's this? What has happened? Fanny, child, what in the name of wonder is the matter? Where's Edward?" Mr. Lovering spoke hurriedly. As soon as practicable, the whole affair was related. "And is that all?" exclaimed Mr. Lovering, in surprise. "Pooh! pooh!
"Yes," she answered, testily, "this is 545; but there's nobody here by the name of Lovering." The young man turned as if to go. "Have you any roomers at present?" he inquired, doubtfully. "I have one, but his name is Mannering." "Mannering," he repeated, thoughtfully, once more facing her; "I wonder if I am not mistaken in the name? Will you kindly describe Mr. Mannering?"
They had been so engaged for over twenty minutes, Whitford beginning to grow dull and heavy as the exhilaration of wine died out, and less responsive to the efforts made by Blanche to keep him interested, when Lovering came into the library, and, seeing them, said, with a spur of banter in his voice: "Come, come, this will never do!
Never did I see such sedate, sweet lovering, so trusting on her part, so guardianlike on his. They were like, in miniature -though more dewy, those sober couples who have long lived together, yet whom one still catches looking at each other with confidential tenderness, and in whom, one feels, passion is atrophied from never having been in use.
"There's no such person rooming here," she replied, sharply, her manner indicating that this bit of information ended the interview, but her interlocutor was not to be so easily dismissed. "No such person!" he exclaimed, at the same time scrutinizing in apparent perplexity a small card which he had produced. "J. D. Lovering, 545 Jefferson Street; isn't this 545, madam?"
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