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"I'm not exactly sure what I want," he replied with a little laugh, "but whatever it is, I know now that I'm not going to get it. I've walked into a trap. I believed that you were a spy, and it seemed to me that I ought to seize you. Am I right?" Shepard laughed also. "That's a frank question and you shall have a frank reply," he said. "The suspicions of your friend, Colonel Talbot, were correct.
While they were amusing us here on the Rappahannock with their cannon, Jackson with the best of the army crossed the river higher up, passed through Thoroughfare Gap, marching two or three days before a soul of ours knew it, and then struck our great camp at Bristoe Station." "Shepard, you must be sunstruck!" "My mind was never clearer.
This poor old man tells you, that he was greatly perplexed at the time; that he found himself in embarrassed circumstances; that on this very night he was engaged in making an assignment of his property to his friend, Mr. Shepard. If ever charity should furnish a mantle for error, it should be here. Imagination cannot picture a more deplorable, distressed condition.
Her picture of 1902 is thus spoken of in Success, September of that year: "'Une Petite Histoire' is the title of Miss Mary Shepard Greene's graceful canvas. The lithe and youthful figure of a girl is extended upon a straight-backed settle in somewhat of a Récamier pose. She is intently occupied in the perusal of a book.
Before we left the room, she took a bunch of roses that were in a vase, and gave them to Miss Shepard, who told her that she should make her six sisters happy by giving one to each.
The strong personality of the spy and his seeming omniscience oppressed him again. Apparently he was able to go anywhere, and nothing could be hidden from him. He might be somewhere in the circling shadows at that very moment, watching Lee and his lieutenants. His pulses leaped. Shepard had achieved an extraordinary influence over him, and he was prepared to believe the impossible.
He did not know where he intended to go, but knew that he wanted to push out into a new land and get among new people. He thought he would go east and north. He remembered the long summer evenings in the river town when the station master slept and his wife talked. The boy who listened had wanted to sleep also, but with the eyes of Sarah Shepard fixed on him, had not dared to do so.
He had already outlived Cotton and Hooker, Shepard and Winthrop, by more than thirty years. Inevitably men began, toward the end of the century, to take stock of the great venture of colonization, to scrutinize their own history and present position, to ask searching questions of themselves.
The South has made a great and wonderful fight, but it was never possible for her to win." "We are not beaten yet, Mr. Shepard." "No, but you will be. I suppose you'll fight to the last, but the end is sure as the rising of tomorrow's sun. We have generals now who can't be driven back." Harry was silent because he had no answer to make, and Shepard resumed: "I'm willing to tell you, Mr.
The map that he had brought from his sister had proved invaluable. Sheridan was using it every hour, and Shepard was giving further assistance through his thorough knowledge of the ground. Dick was glad to ride beside him and whisper with him, now and then. "I haven't known things to go so well before," Dick said, when they were across the creek. "They're going well, Mr.
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