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"I ax your pardon, captain; my name's Jacob Poole." "Well, Jacob, you just wait here half an hour, and I shall have something to say to you when I come back, which may suit us both." When Captain Merryweather returned he found the boy looking out of the window at the streams of people going to and from the docks.
By the application of this principle, she had extinguished her brother-in-law's passion for Janet Merryweather, and she hoped that it would prove equally effective in blighting her son's incipient fancy for Molly.
"You've worn weeds steady now, ain't you, Mrs. Revercomb?" Sarah set her mouth tightly. "They were too costly to lay away," she replied, and the words were as real a eulogy of her husband as she had ever uttered. "It's a pity Abel lost Molly Merryweather," said Betsey. "Is thar any likelihood of thar comin' together again? Or is it true as the rumour keeps up that she is goin' to marry Mr.
Merryweather is the chairman of directors, and he will explain to you that there are reasons why the more daring criminals of London should take a considerable interest in this cellar at present." "It is our French gold," whispered the director. "We have had several warnings that an attempt might be made upon it." "Your French gold?" "Yes.
I'll make your master's cabin too hot to hold you afore any of us is a month older." And now we bid farewell to Australia, and follow the Sabrina in her homeward voyage. It was soon evident that there was no love lost between Captain Merryweather and Juniper Graves, nor between that cunning gentleman and honest, straightforward Jacob. With Frank, however, it was different.
"I might have known thar warn't nobody to do what I ask 'em," observed Sarah in the voice and manner of a martyr. "It's rabbits or girls, one or the other, and if it ain't an old hare it's some light-moraled critter like Molly Merryweather." Abel's face had changed to a dull red and his eyes blazed. "Say anything against Molly, mother, an' I'll never speak to you again!" he cried out angrily.
When tea was over, the Colonel bowed the ladies out of the room with punctilious courtesy, and motioned to Hugh to follow them; then he turned to the two Merryweather boys. "May I offer you cigars, young gentlemen?" he asked; and he took a couple of cheroots from the mantel-piece. The boys blushed bravely, but Phil said, quietly, "No, thank you, sir.
"What's all this talk anyway about Molly Merryweather an' Mr. Jonathan?" she demanded. "Abel, have you heard anything about it?" The men glanced at each other with uneasy eyes, while they worked nervously at the shucking, for the question had been in the air from the moment of Abel's entrance, though none of them had been bold enough to speak it aloud.
MERRYWEATHER, I am told, contrives to lead the Worthies as completely by their noses as Bridle did some of the Somersetshire Worthies. When, however, we call to mind who and what these said Magistrates are, and how they are appointed, this is not to be wondered at so much.
Bilfrid also illuminated the large capital letters at the beginning of the gospels. This precious volume was still further enriched by Aldred of Durham, who interlined it with a Saxon Gloss, or version of the Latin text of St. Jerome. "Of the exact pecuniary value of books during the middle ages," says Merryweather, "we have no means of judging.
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