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Updated: May 10, 2025
Ramsden, the manager of the Ironstone Works, is keeping a plan of the whole of the pavement, which he is coloring in exact imitation of the original work. This, when completed, will be most interesting, and he will be quite willing to show it to any one desirous of inspecting the same.
Just at the time Mr Skinner was expecting the arrival of his sister, Mrs Ramsden and her family, Donald and David had to leave home to visit some distant township on business. Mr Skinner had, before this asked the assistance of Margaret and Janet in fitting up his house.
Mr Dragwell has already made honourable mention of his wife; it will therefore only be necessary to add that he had one daughter, a handsome lively girl, engaged to a Mr Ramsden, the new surgeon of the place, who had stepped into the shoes and the good-will of one who had retired from forty years' practice upon the good people of Overton.
"Upon my word, Dick, you take it easy!" cried his friend, rather indignantly. "I own I have not stirred in the matter," said Dr. May. "I knew nothing would come to good under the pack of silly women that our schools are ridden with " and, as he heard a sound a little like "pish!" he continued, "and that old Ramsden, it is absolutely useless to work with such a head or no head.
"Where Louis XIV. met his bride, and Francois I. sealed his treason with his empty flourish " "Well, don't let us fight about Francois I. now; I want to know how Tom likes Eton." "He gets on famously. I am so glad he is in the same house with Hector." "Mr. Ramsden how is he?" "No better; he has not done any duty for weeks.
On the N., three of the shortest clefts pertaining to the system are easily traceable from neighbouring mountains up to the N. wall, which they apparently partially cut through. The E. pair have a common origin, but open out as they approach the border of Ramsden.
And, as he did so, a voice behind him cried: "Bing!" Ramsden's driver wabbled at the last moment. The ball flopped weakly among the trees on the right of the course. Ramsden turned to perceive, standing close beside him, a small fat boy in a sailor suit. There was a pause. "Rotten!" said the boy austerely. Ramsden gulped. And then suddenly he saw that the boy was not alone.
Ramsden, Her Majesty's consul at Santiago de Cuba, whose untimely death after distinguished service and untiring effort during the siege of that city was sincerely lamented.
Don shook his head, and remained watching the progress of the men, but giving Jem a meaning look from time to time, sufficient to stimulate his curiosity, and make him on the qui vive. Then to avoid suspicion, he hurried down, and had hardly reached the deck again before Ramsden, who had again been below, came once more on deck, and remained watching him till dark.
Mrs Ramsden lifted a flushed, tear-stained face to look at her daughter standing before her, lovely and slender in the blue muslin gown which had been Cornelia's gift. The daintiness of the dress, its unaccustomed smartness and air of fashion, seemed at the moment a presage of the threatened separation.
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