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Updated: May 17, 2025
Olmstead had secured the axe that was in the barn, and regretted very much that he had not taken it when he was there. Bucholz looked troubled at this information, but, rousing himself, he inquired: "What kind of an axe did you get?" "Why, I got one as nearly like that in the barn as I could about as thick as the iron bars on the door of the cell there."
In answer to the question how funds for recruiting were to be obtained without any appropriation by Congress, Mr. Stanton said they could be supplied from the Secret Service fund. When Mr. Stearns and Mr. Olmstead were alone on the street again, the latter said: "Mr. Stearns, go to your room and sleep if you can."
Glendenning; are your aunt and uncle here?" "No, Miss Olmstead; I left them in Boston, and just ran down for a day or two, before I go West once more. I had business." She saw him seated before she stepped to the alcove bed to lay the baby down, then, coming back, took a seat on the other side of the fireplace, and asked softly, "Have you heard?" "Yes," in the same tone; "Miss Zeba told me.
"I think," smiling mischievously, as she gave him her hand, "your thanks are due elsewhere; but as I never refuse anything that is offered me, so I won't these; and allow me to say," with intense meaning, "as far as I am concerned, you are most welcome!" "Thank you again! Miss Olmstead, are you ready?
Within ten days I rode to the asylum, made arrangements to rent the land of the asylum farm for the coming season, and wrote to brother G. A. Olmstead to take my place in looking after its interests for a few months, as my physicians told me it was unsafe for me to continue mental labor, and I must rest at least six months.
"Write her everything, and let her counsel you, will you?" She bowed her head. "It's very kind of you all to care, and if you are sure she would not be annoyed" "Annoyed? What an idea! Why, aren't you both daughters of the King? Doesn't that make you sisters? I know you will not break your word, Miss Olmstead."
You did not write to auntie?" "I could not yet." There was a little pause, which was broken by an outburst from the other side of the room, where the children were supposed to be studying. "I tell you 'tis too, Morton Olmstead. I'll ask Sara, now!" "Well, Molly, what is it?" she turned to ask. "Isn't it right to say 'seven and six are twelve?" Morton says it isn't."
Here is something for you to take," placing a spoon to her lips. The invalid swallowed the liquid docilely, never taking her large hazel eyes from Sara's face. "Who are you? Where am I?" she asked again. "I am Sara Olmstead, a King's daughter, come to stay with you this afternoon; and you are in a good woman's room, who is now gone to her work."
Why don't you give him some more of your rambles?" Her sad eyes brightened. After all, there was something within her which no grief, no bereavement, could entirely affect. "I will," she said; "I will pick myself up and begin over again." "That's right. And try some walks here, Miss Olmstead; you'll find much of interest out on the old road leading west, for instance.
Above all, reader, I beg of you to read the dispassionate and calmly written Cotton Kingdom of Frederick Law Olmstead, recently published by Mason Brothers, of New York. You will there find the fact set forth by closest observation that the negroes in part are indeed lazy vagabonds, but that the majority, when allowed to work for themselves, and when free, do work, and that right steadily.
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