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Updated: June 7, 2025
John's Wood, introducing myself as sent by Miss Halcombe to collect, if possible, more particulars of her sister's last illness than Mr. Kyrle had found the time to procure. By Mr. Through this person I also discovered a means of communicating with the servant, Hester Pinhorn.
I wouldn't wonder if he'd be glad to see ye rotted up with smallpox." "What kind of a man is Pinhorn?" "A whey-faced hypercrit an' a Tory. Licks the feet o' the British when they come here." Jack and Solomon lay for weeks in this dirty, noisome jail, where their treatment was well calculated to change opinions not deeply rooted in firm soil. They did not fear the smallpox, as both were immune.
Pinhorn which had been so promptly rebuked by his friend John Adams on the ride to Philadelphia. The young man made a copy of one of the tables and was saying good night to his venerable friend when the latter remarked: "I shall go to Sir John Pringle's in the morning for advice. He is a noted physician. My man will be having a day off. Could you go with me at ten?" "Gladly," said Jack.
Pinhorn, accompanied with a letter the gist of which was the desire to know what I meant by trying to fob off on him such stuff. That was the meaning of the question, if not exactly its form, and it made my mistake immense to me. Such as this mistake was I could now only look it in the face and accept it. I knew where I had failed, but it was exactly where I couldn't have succeeded.
Pinhorn, who was now annoyed with me for having lost so many days. He bundled me off we would at least not lose another. I've always thought his sudden alertness a remarkable example of the journalistic instinct. Nothing had occurred, since I first spoke to him, to create a visible urgency, and no enlightenment could possibly have reached him.
Pinhorn for Preston, Margaret and General Sir Benjamin Hare with handsome payment for their delivery, but they waited in vain for an answer. "They's suthin' wrong 'bout this 'ere business," said Solomon. "You'll find that ol' Pinhorn has got a pair o' split hoofs under his luther." One day Jack was sent for by Mr. Pinhorn and conducted to his office. "Honor! Good luck!
Nero used to say that he wished that the inhabitants of Rome had only one neck, so that he could dispose of them with a single blow. It was a rather merciful wish, after all. A neck had better be chopped off than held under the yoke of tyranny." "Sir, England shielded, protected, us from French and Indians," Mr. Pinhorn declared with high indignation. "It protected its commerce.
Once my paper was written I was free to stay on, and if it was calculated to divert attention from my levity in so doing I could reflect with satisfaction that I had never been so clever. I don't mean to deny of course that I was aware it was much too good for Mr. Pinhorn; but I was equally conscious that Mr.
It was dark, being October, and though I knew every yard of our ground, I marvel now to think how I escaped breaking my leg in a ditch or coming to some other mishap. I raced on to Raven Street, where Mr. Pinhorn lived, and by good luck found him just alighting at the door from his nag.
A strong, steady feller, and a good workman an' all, and one as'll look after her an' treat her kind. But I mind what I said to Mrs Pinhorn on that very day: `I hope it may be so, I says, `but it takes an angel, and not a man, to bear with a woman as weak an' shiftless as Hepzibah, and not lose his temper. And now look at 'em!
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