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Updated: May 29, 2025
Please send this piece from the paper back, as I want to put it in my scrapbook, under his autograph: "Our young townsman, Mr. Gifted Hopkins, has proved himself worthy of the name he bears. His poetical effusions are equally creditable to his head and his heart, displaying the highest order of genius and powers of imagination and fancy hardly second to any writer of the age.
'Did you notice that extracts have been clipped from any of them? 'No, sir. 'Does Mr. Summertrees keep a scrapbook? 'Not that I know of, sir. 'Oh, the case is perfectly plain, said I, leaning back in my chair, and regarding the puzzled Hale with that cherubic expression of self-satisfaction which I know is so annoying to him.
The Lady Principal is seated near a table, on which lie some books in expensive bindings, which I imagine to have been presented to her by the parents of pupils who were leaving school. One has given her a photographic album; another a large scrapbook, for illustrations of all kinds; a third volume has red edges, and is presumably of a devotional character.
Arkwright had, years before, begun a scrapbook, or "Household Album," as it was called, into which she pasted such of her children's original drawings as were held good enough for the honour; the age of the artist being taken into account. Jack's gift in this line was not as great as that of Clement or Eleanor, but this was not the only reason why no drawing of his appeared in the scrapbook. Mrs.
"Did you let him?" Tom asked. "I certainly did not! With all our stuff down there? When he saw I intended to stay down as long as he did, he went right up. Do you think he wanted to steal some of our membership buttons?" Tom shrugged his shoulders thoughtfully. He was glad the next day was Saturday. Tom found Mr. Conne poring over a scrapbook filled with cards containing finger-prints.
They dressed and undressed them and put them to bed. They taught them to say their prayers and prepared their little meals, teaching them "table manners," and they made them play as children should play. A sunshine scrapbook was made.
He had lost a collection of photographs of himself, and his treasured scrapbook losses that he regretted exceedingly; but he had clung fast to his stage attire and to his juggling appliances, bearing them away with him by hand from Paris. He was now endeavouring to make his way back to England, intending to return thence to America without loss of time.
Boffin, it being, not to mention the matter of theme, very often afflicted with a deplorable weakness or strength in its feet, yet it can be said of it, as in the case of Mercutio's wound, that it serves. Most of these literary efforts eventually find a place in the scrapbook, and their perusal reminds us of many a joyous evening.
The captain might have been more modest in relating his personal connection with the incident when talking with the reporter than he had been in relating the story to his niece. Still, even with this suggested explanation welcomed to her mind, Louise Grayling was puzzled. She went through the entire scrapbook, skimming the stories there related, to learn if any were familiar. But no.
In order to determine the guilty person, much chaff would have to be sifted from the wheat of truth. He was closing his scrapbook when the chief of police arrived a few minutes before five o'clock. "Henry Morley," Greenleaf announced at once, "is a receiving teller in a bank in Washington the Anderson National Bank."
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