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"I hear'd tell 'bout some Nigger sojers a-plunderin' some houses: Out at Pine Ridge dey kilt a white man named Rogillio. But de head Yankee sojers in Natchez tried 'em for somethin' or nother an' hung 'em on a tree out near de Charity Horspital. Dey strung up de ones dat went to Mr. Sargent's door one night an' shot him down, too. All dat hangin' seemed to squelch a heap o' lousy goin's-on.

I can see it vanishing in the shape of five sundaes, at ten cents per eat. We can't go to Sargent's. They cost fifteen " "I've a quarter," insinuated Irma. "All contributions thankfully received," beamed Jerry. "On to Sargent's! We'll talk about the weather until we get there. It's been such a lovely day," she grimaced. "If it rains much more we'll have to do as they do in Spain."

The two men looked guilty. "If Mr. Sargent's friend had told us as much in the beginning," said the doctor, very severely, "much might have been saved." Alas! I had made a life's enemy of that doctor. "I hadn't a chance," I replied. "Now, of course, you can see that a man who owns several thousand miles of line, as Mr.

In this dining-room a large dinner party was held, in honor of Andre the day before he set out upon his fatal excursion to West Point. In Sargent's, "Life of Andre," we find a very interesting description of this mansion, and of the scenes witnessed there in olden time.

"Henschel is sitting to Sargent. His concerts, I hear, can't be carried on another year for want of funds. What a shame! "Mr. Sargent is painting a head of Henry very good, but mean about the chin at present. "Sargent's picture is talked of everywhere and quarreled about as much as my way of playing the part. "Sargent's 'Lady Macbeth' in the New Gallery is a great success.

"That's just what Jack Sargent says," said Dell; "that we ought to have a cow to every ten or fifteen steers." "Sargent's our foreman," explained Joel. "He's a Texan, and knows cattle right down to the split in their hoof. With his and your judgment, we ought to make up a herd of cattle in a few days." The two outfits came in on the evening of the fourth day.

Sargent's recent productions have been portraits of American ladies whom it must have been a delight to paint; I allude to those of Lady Playfair and Mrs. Henry White, both of which were seen in the Royal Academy of 1885, and the former subsequently in Boston, where it abides. These things possess, largely, the quality which makes Mr.

He died two years ago, so it is hardly meet to draw a moral about the excellence of doing things with neatness and dispatch. Sargent's "Prophets" cover scarcely one-tenth of the space assigned him, and the rest is bare white walls, patiently awaiting his brush.

Sargent's famous portrait of him. Forget it. Tankerton Hall is open to the public on Wednesdays. Go there, and in the dining-hall stand to study well Sir Thomas Lawrence's portrait of the eleventh Duke. Imagine a man some twenty years younger than he whom you there behold, but having some such features and some such bearing, and clad in just such robes.

"She says that the secret of the whole trouble is that women try to live above their class, and make one servant appear to do the work of three " The introduction of Mrs. Sargent's name was not a happy one. "Ellen Sargent," said Mrs. Salisbury icily, "is not a lady herself, in the true sense of the word, and she does very well to talk about class distinctions!