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Updated: May 28, 2025
As he came and went he saw, under Rutledge's guidance, much of the inside of mission work. In Shanghai he found a Methodist publishing house, sending out literature all over China, as well as two monthly papers, one in Chinese and one in English. Many missionary boards had headquarters here.
It was by way of the Sangamon River that he entered politics. That uncertain watercourse had already twice befriended him. He had floated on it in flood-time from his father's cabin into Springfield. A few weeks later its rapidly falling waters landed him on the dam at Rutledge's mill, introducing him effectively if unceremoniously to the inhabitants of New Salem.
He was as good as his word, or rather better; for he breakfasted at Kelly's Court, and induced Lord Ballindine to get into his own gig, and drive him as far as the mail-coach road. "But you'll be four or five hours too soon," said Frank; "the coach doesn't pass Ballyglass till three." "I want to see those cattle of Rutledge's.
A sign hung over its door which bore the rudely lettered words: "Rutledge's Tavern." A long, slim, stoop-shouldered young man sat in the shade of an oak tree that stood near a corner of the tavern, with a number of children playing around him. He had sat leaning against the tree trunk reading a book. He had risen as they came near and stood looking at them, with the book under his arm. . . .
It took some time to build the boat, and before it was finished the Sangamon River had fallen so that the new craft stuck midway across the dam at Rutledge's Mill, at New Salem, a village of fifteen or twenty houses.
In my opinion you're about fat enough for the present. Le's stick to the job till four o'clock. Then we'll knock off for refreshments." The young revelers gathered in a group and began to whisper together. Samson writes that it became evident then they were going to make trouble and says: * "We had left the children at Rutledge's in the care of Ann.
We hardly know whether to credit some of the stories, apparently well-attested by living witnesses, of his prodigious muscular powers. He is said to have lifted, at Rutledge's mill, a box of stones weighing over half a ton! It is also related that he could raise a barrel of whisky from the ground and drink from the bung but the narrator adds that he never swallowed the whisky.
In a moment Abe added: "Her parents have begun to suspect that something is wrong. They have never been invited to go down there and visit the girl. I reckon we'd better say nothing to any one of what we have heard at present." They reached New Salem in the middle of the night and went into Rutledge's barn and lay down on the haymow between two buffalo hides until morning.
Rutledge's tiny packet produced an old-fashioned short purse, with steel fringe and clasp, which she had knit herself for her mother. How can words tell the laughter which hailed this repetition? The boys rolled off their chairs and roared till their very sides ached; tears streamed down Mrs.
In a musty old ledger kept by James Rutledge, the owner of Rutledge's Tavern, in the year 1832, is an entry under the date of January 31st which reads as follows: "Arrived this day Eliphalet Biggs of 26 Olive Street, St. Louis, with one horse." Young Mr. Biggs remained at Rutledge's Tavern for three weeks with his arm in a sling under the eye of the good doctor.
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