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Updated: May 17, 2025
"But, madame, my father is plain Reuben Olmstead, a good and honest man, yet only a fisherman." "But, no, my child, you do not yet comprehend. The King, it is thy Father in heaven, and thou must be one of those who call themselves the King's Daughters.
The wind had risen outside, and was wailing mournfully around the cottage. The young girl shivered to hear it. "Sounds like a death-wail, don't it?" said Mrs. Olmstead, noticing the movement. "When the wind hes thet sorter long scream in it, it allers means trouble, and your pa off for the long fish to-morrow!"
May I not know thy name also, my fair young mees?" "It is Sara Olmstead, ma'am, and I am a fisherman's daughter." "And I, my fisher-lass, am name Madame Grandet now, though my girl name it was Felicie." "Oh, how pretty!" "You t'ink? Do you know it mean 'happy, 'fortunate, and I am that, for I have few cares, and my husband does indulge every wish I can make.
How the wind does blow!" Mrs. Olmstead had gone early that afternoon, with a neighbor, to attend the funeral of a friend in the next village, and must return through this storm in an open wagon, very insufficiently clad. It was dark before the party arrived; and as she came in shaking her wet clothes, and trying to make light of her shiverings, Sara looked at her in alarm.
Garth?" asked Sara; then, as he gave a negative sign, she repeated the story. He listened interestedly. "Where did you live, then, Miss Olmstead?" "In Killamet a tiny fishing-village on the coast. We are the children of a fisherman, perhaps you know." "You?" surprisedly. "I would never have thought it! I supposed" He stopped in some confusion, and colored. "Say it out!" urged Morton.
So the winter passed quietly and swiftly away; for busy time is always swift time, and all three of our Olmstead household were thoroughly busy: Sara with her writing added to the museum work; Morton with his studies, in which he was growing deeply interested; and Molly in a little of everything.
Run over a few: The Authors of the Bible; Aristotle; Pliny; Aldrovandi; Sir Thomas Browne; Gesner; Ray; Linnaeus; Rondeletius; Willoughby; Green; Artedi; Sibbald; Brisson; Marten; Lacepede; Bonneterre; Desmarest; Baron Cuvier; Frederick Cuvier; John Hunter; Owen; Scoresby; Beale; Bennett; J. Ross Browne; the Author of Miriam Coffin; Olmstead; and the Rev. T. Cheever.
After a protracted conversation, during which Sommers labored diligently and successfully to erase any latent suspicions from the mind of the attorney, Mr. Bollman at length said: "Well, Mr. Sommers, to be candid with you, my suspicions were the most decidedly aroused when I had my interview with Mr. Olmstead, the State's attorney, about your bail.
A step in the hall made her hasten to dash away the tell-tale drops, as Hetty knocked, before peeping in to say, "There's a gentleman in the parlor asking to see you, Miss Olmstead." "A gentleman? One of the professors?" "I don't think it is; I never see him before it's a young man." Sara rose, adjusted her dress a little, and descended to the drawing- room.
Miss Sara Olmstead: Dear Madam, On recommendation of Professor Grandet, after reading your letter lately published in the Twelfth Report of the M. G. and M. Society, I am empowered by the Board of Control of Dartmoor College to tender you a position in the Geological Department, as assistant to Professor Macon, in charge.
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