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Updated: May 7, 2025
During this visit to London he appeared in public only once, at Mapleson's benefit at the Crystal Palace, when he played a fantasia on themes from the "Huguenots." The following year he went once more to the United States, and on his way played at the promenade concerts in London. In America he remained for some years, and then proceeded in 1887 to the Cape of Good Hope and Madagascar.
He stood in the way of a land-claim, and human life was cheap that night." Tell Mapleson's face was ashy gray with anger; but no heed was given to him, as my father continued.
There are however two or three peculiarities which I observe about Maurice Mapleson's preaching. Dr. Argure tells me that he never writes a sermon without a reference to its future use. I once asked him whether he ever preached extemporaneously. "No," said he. "I have meant to. But I have so many fine sermons waiting to be preached that I could never bring myself to abandon them for a mere talk."
We played together about the meadows and vine-clad hill slopes of old France, in our happy boyhood. We grew up and loved and might both have been happily wedded there, but I've told you his story. There is nothing of myself that can interest you. That letter of Mapleson's, purporting to be from Patrick O'Meara, is a mere forgery. I have just come up from the Mission.
For tea had long been waiting, the children's bed hour was near, and Jennie was growing impatient to be at home. Wednesday evening Mr. Mapleson, the Deacon and I went into our church prayer-meeting from half an hour spent in Mr. Mapleson's study in prayer for Mr. Gear. Mr. Mapleson had seen Mr. Gear that morning. But the stricken father was very silent; he offered no communication; and Mr.
It put Jean out of the commission goods business. No persuasion of Mapleson's or his partner's could induce Jean to go back after night to the cabin after this reappearance of the long quiet ghost of the drowned woman." Le Claire could not repress a smile. "I think I unconsciously played the same role in September out there, frightening a little man away one night.
Tell Mapleson's lots longer, and James Conlow, blacksmith, and Cam Gentry, and Cris Mead are all bigger. But if you want to settle me, I'm ready. Who says I've been talking about you?" "Amos Judson, and he knows. He's told me all about you." O'mie's irrepressible smile spread over his face. "All about me? I didn't give him credit for that much insight." "I'm not joking, and you must listen to me.
She's the only girl that can ride Tell Mapleson's pony, and only O'mie and Tell and I among the boys can ride him. And she killed the big rattlesnake that nearly had Jim Conlow, killed it with a hoe. And she can climb where no other girl dares to, on the bluff below town toward the Hermit's Cave. But she's just as 'fraid of an Injun! I went to hunt him, though." "And you did just right, Phil.
Tell Mapleson's mobile face clouded up a bit at this. "But I had by this time become so convinced that I called in Le Claire here and held a council with him. "Now that sounds like a threat," Mapleson urged. Somehow, shrewd as he was, solid as his case appeared to himself, the man was growing uncomfortable. "I've known Le Claire's story for years. I never questioned him once.
Nobody had ever accused Tell Mapleson's wife of ruining a home on that basis; for she had been one of the crushed-down, washed-out women who never have two ideas above their dish-pan. She had been dead some years, and Tell was alone. People said he was too selfish to marry again. Certainly matrimony was not much in his thoughts.
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