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Updated: June 18, 2025
He had Ricker by the hand, and he pulled him into a doorway to be a little out of the rush on the crowded pavement, while they chatted. "That's because I can't afford to go to the White Mountains, and swell round at the aristocratic summer resorts like some people," returned Ricker. "I'm a horny-handed son of toil, myself." "Pshaw!" said Bartley. "Who isn't?
"Wal, sir, I s'pose them fellers roped in every man in this town. I don't s'pose they got out with a cent less'n one thousand dollars. An' when the book come wal!" Here he stopped to roar. "I don't s'pose you ever see a madder lot o' men in your life. In the first place, they got the names and the pitchers mixed so that I was Judge Ricker, an' Judge Ricker was ol' man Daggett.
Bartley had kept his head clear of the punch, but he left the club drunk with joy and pride, and so impatient to be with Marcia and tell her of his triumphs that he could hardly wait to read the proof of his boarding-house article which Ricker had put in hand at once for the Sunday edition.
I always remember my exact age for I wished to know just how long I had been gone when I got back." The villagers looked at the stranger with marked variations in expression, but no one spoke until Abner remarked: "I guess you've struck the right place. There's a young feller named Billy Ricker that works for Mr. Strout here," and he pointed to that gentleman.
Ricker had not since left the paper, and though he was called a crank by some of the more progressive and reckless of the young men, he clung to his ideal of a conscience in journalism; he gave the Abstract a fixed character and it could no more have changed than the Events, without self-destruction.
"I promise to take it for the Sunday edition of the Chronicle Abstract, whenever you get it ready," said Ricker. Bartley laid his hand on his friend's arm. "It's bought up, old fellow. That narrative 'Confessions of an Average American' belongs to the Events." They had their laugh at this, and then Ricker said to Kinney: "But look here, my friend!
That committee consisted of Melancton Smith, Peter Ricker, Jonathan Lawrence, Anthony Rutgers, Peter T. Curtenius, Thomas Tucker, Daniel Shaw, Adam Gilchrist, Junr., and John Wiley. Of this committee Melancton Smith was the life and soul. He was the author of the address a clear, able, and unanswerable exposition of the case. It states the determination of Mrs.
Ricker seemed quite unchanged save for the few gray hairs which had come into his beard and, as he stood in conversation with one of the merchants of the town, his nasal voice, his formal speech and the grandiloquent gesture of his right hand brought back to me all the stories I had heard of his drinking and of his wife's heroic rescuing expeditions to neighboring saloons.
He had not slept well; he was excited by several things; by the use Ricker had made of his work, and by the hopes of advancement which this use quickened in him. He was not ashamed of it; he was very proud of it; and he wondered at its symmetry and force, as he read and read it again. He had taken very high philosophical ground in his view of the matter, and had accused the structure of society.
Maxwell had come with nerves steeled to bear the rejection of his article entire, but he was not prepared to suffer the erasure of all his pet phrases and favorite sentences, sometimes running to entire paragraphs. When Ricker handed it back to him at last with "What do you think of it now?" Maxwell had the boldness to answer, "Well, Mr.
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