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Updated: May 27, 2025
Young Mother with Child, by Furio Piccirilli. Wood Nymph, by Isidore Konti. Michael Angelo, by Robert Aitken. Muse Finding the Head of Orpheus, by Edward Berge. Flying Cupid, by Janet Scudder. Piping Pan, by Louis St. Gaudens. Circle at South End of Peristyle Bust of William Howard Taft, by Robert Aitken. Henry Ward Beecher, by John Quincy Adams Ward. Bust of Halsey C. Ives, by Victor S. Holm.
Not knowing who Colfax was, or rather very little, other than that he was president of this great rival publishing concern, Eugene was perfectly free and easy in his manner. He was never affected at any time, decidedly eager to learn things from anybody and supremely good natured. "So you're Swinton, Scudder and Davis, are you?" he said to Colfax on introduction.
He was a foggy man with a clarion voice, smelling of Connecticut wrappers and naphtha. "'Hello, Profess! he shouts. 'How's your conduct? "I rumpled my hair some more and gave him a blue glass stare. "'Sir, says I, 'are you Cornelius T. Scudder? Of Pittsburg, Pennsylvania? "'I am, says he. 'Come out and have a drink.
Sister Scudder, motioning Lady Swiggs aside, whispers in her ear: "They are all very excellent young men. They will improve on acquaintance. They are come up for the clergy."
"There was something in that girl's eyes as they followed us, William, that no cocktail ever shaken could get out of my mind," made answer the very grave Mr. Peter Scudder of Philadelphia. "Do you suppose her Uncle got there or that anything happened? I wish I had waited with her."
Scudder felt some of the natural reserve which becomes a matron coming charged with a gift in which lies the whole sacredness of her own existence, and which she puts from her hands with a jealous reverence. She therefore measured the man with her woman's and mother's eye, and said, with a little stateliness, "My dear Sir, I come to tell you the result of my conversation with Mary."
Missy Marvyn she sent Miss Scudder some turkey-eggs, an' I brought down some o' my doughnuts for de Doctor. Good folks must lib, you know, as well as wicked ones," and Candace gave a hearty, unctuous laugh. "No reason why Doctors shouldn't hab good tings as well as sinners, is dere?" and she shook in great billows, and showed her white teeth in the abandon of her laugh.
Boucicault told him not to make Caleb Plummer a solemn character at the beginning a deliverance that Jefferson seems to have cherished as one of colossal wisdom. He made a brilliant hit in Salem Scudder, and it was then that he determined finally to assume the position of a star. "Art has always been my sweetheart," exclaims Jefferson, "and I have loved her for herself alone."
That his wig always sat straight and even around his ample forehead, not facetiously poked to one side, nor assuming rakish airs, unsuited to clerical dignity, was entirely owing to Mrs. Katy Scudder. That his best broadcloth coat was not illustrated with shreds and patches, fluff and dust, and hanging in ungainly folds, was owing to the same.
Her husband, who did all her thinking for her, had been a man of ideas beyond his day, and never for a moment countenanced the right of slavery so far as to buy or own a servant or attendant of any kind; and Mrs. Scudder had always followed decidedly along the path of his opinions and practice, and never hesitated to declare the reasons for the faith that was in her.
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