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Updated: June 9, 2025
I watched Sister Pinkham until she disappeared, umbrella in hand, over the crest of a hill far along the road to the eastward. The old beggar women of Bantry streets had seldom showered their blessings upon a departing group of emigrants with such hearty good will as they did upon Mike Bogan and his little household one May morning.
His volume sold to beat the band and wealth came in hand over hand; but ever, as he scoured the town, he thought of 'Titia Pinkham Brown, and scalding tears anon would rise and almost cook his steely eyes. Once more a lover knelt before Letitia Pinkham Brown and swore to cherish her while life endures, "Come out of it," she said, "I'm yours."
The two pictures printed cheek by jowl in "The Ladies' Home Journal," one, of the tombstone above the mortal remains of Lydia E. Pinkham, whose inscription showed that she had been dead since 1883, and the other an advertisement representing Lydia in 1905, sitting in her laboratory at Lynn, Massachusetts, engrossed in assuaging the sufferings of ailing womanhood, these are eloquent of the type of fraud perpetrated through the press upon a gullible public.
As both the editor and Mr Pinkham, he said, were in a disgraceful condition, he relied upon the rest of the staff to maintain the credit of the Trumpet-Call, etc. Then he showed Denison a cable he had just received, and asked him if he could assist him to make it out. It ran in this wise: 'London Emperor Frederick condition very grave.
Pinkham may have said this to impress the four Dana girls with the variety of his reading, but the recollection of De Quincey's harrowing paper had the effect of so unhinging the young school-master that when he found himself, an hour or two afterwards, in the lonely, unlighted street he flitted home like a belated ghost, and was ready to drop at every tree-box.
The man that got hurt last week in the Dana Mill. Who were Richard Shackford's intimates? Couldn't say; had seen him with Mr. Pinkham, the school-master, and Mr. Craggie, went with the upper crust generally. Was going to be partner in the marble yard and marry Slocum's daughter. Will Durgin knew him. They lived together one time. He, Wollaston, was going to turn in now.
Pinkham had now bought the "Herald," and also the "Sun," well recommended by an able newsboy, and presently they crossed over from that corner by the Fifth Avenue Hotel which seems like the very heart of New York, and found a place to sit down on the Square an empty bench, where they could sit side by side and look the papers through, reading over each other's shoulder, and being impatient from page to page.
His single fellow-boarder, Mr. Pinkham, had not returned from his customary early walk, and only Richard and Mrs. Spooner, the landlady, were at table. The former was in the act of lifting the coffee-cup to his lips, when the school-master burst excitedly into the room. "Old Mr. Shackford is dead!" he exclaimed, dropping into a chair near the door.
Pinkham found themselves in possession of countless advertising cards and circulars next morning, and these added somewhat to their sense of responsibility. Mrs. Pinkham became afraid that the hotel-keeper would charge them double. "We've got to pay for it some way; there. I don't know but I'm more 'n willin'," said the good soul. "I never did have such a splendid time in all my life.
Eugene Field, was the reply. "Just then I awoke," ended Field. The success of Field's paragraph engaging Bok to Miss Pinkham stimulated the poet to greater effort.
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