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Updated: June 25, 2025
The prince of the poetic throng in my day was one Alfred Randall whom I used to encounter on Sunday mornings on his way to chapel dressed in black broadcloth, with huge, overlapping, rhinocerine folds in it for, as I have remarked elsewhere, a Black Country tailor who had supplied the customer with merely cloth enough to fit him, would have been thought unpardonably stingy a very high false collar tied at the back of the neck by a foot or two of white tape which as often as not trailed out behind, a woollen comforter dangling almost to his toes whatever might be the season of year, and the hardest looking and shiniest silk hat to be had for love or money these were Mr Randall's Sabbath wear, and it always struck me as a child that he had very much of the aspect of a cockatoo in mourning.
He refused, flatly, to lend his money for a purpose that he persisted in regarding as iniquitous. Even if he had not advanced a further sum to young Randall's father, he was not going to help young Randall through the Divorce Court, stirring all that mud again. Not he. "You should wash your dirty linen at home," he said. "You mean keep it there and never wash it.
"My dear Fanny, I am sorry for you, it is quite out of the question to think so; the place is not a stone's-throw from Randall's lodge. It will be the most fatal thing in the world to let your weakness be imposed on in this way. Now that the case is clear, the boy must be forced to confession, and severely punished." Fanny burst into tears. "I am very sorry for you, Fanny.
A system of State reformatories and State apprenticeships on an extensive scale is the only way of grappling with this terrible state of things. Such institutions as the House of Refuge on Randall's Island have done and are doing much, but a dozen such institutions might be established with advantage in the State of New York alone.
For the correspondence in full, see Hamilton's Works, volume iv; Sparks's Life and Writings of Washington, volume x; Randall's Life of Jefferson, volume ii.
It took its character and direction from an old feud between Morrison and Randall. Morrison, as chairman of the Ways and Means Committee in 1876, had reported a tariff reform measure which was defeated by Randall's influence.
There was talk about freedom and Doctor Miller knew it would be only a matter of time when he would loose all his slaves. He said to Randall's mother one day, "Delhia you'll soon be as free as I am." She said. "Sho' nuf massy?" and he answered. "You sure will." Nothing more was said to any of the slaves until Sherman's army came through notifying the slaves they were free.
"This Airley's smart wahn't quite smart enough, though. His bright idea come a little mite late. Hunted up old Christy, got the key to his law office right here in the Duncan Block, went up through the skylight, clumb down to the roof of Randall's store next door, shinned up the lightnin' rod on t'other side, and stuck his head plump into the Opery House window." "I want to know!" ejaculated Mr.
The drawn swords of Randall's friends however settled that matter, and Stephen, though still dizzy, was able to walk. Thus leaning on his uncle, he was escorted back to the hostel. "The villain!" the jester said on the way, "I mistrusted him, but I never thought he would have abused our kindred in this fashion.
At any rate, that's what I think I'm going to be. Mother thinks I'd better teach." "Your farm ain't the old Hobbs place, is it?" "No, it's just Randall's Farm. At least that's what mother calls it. I call it Sunnybrook Farm." "I guess it don't make no difference what you call it so long as you know where it is," remarked Mr. Cobb sententiously.
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