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Updated: May 8, 2025
Well, old Streeter said it had got ter come down. I reckon he suspected it of swipin' some of the sunshine, or maybe a little rain that belonged ter the tree t'other side of the road what did bear fruit an' was worth somethin'! Anyhow, he got his man an' his axe, an' was plum ready ter start in when he sees David an' David sees him. "'T was when the boy first come.
"Not when I invite you to drink with me," protested the critic. "I pay for this brandy." "Very well, take it, then!" said Streeter, picking up the little glass and dashing the contents in the face of Davison. Davison took out his handkerchief. "What the devil do you mean by that, Streeter?" he asked, as the color mounted to his brow.
He might have remembered that although Tennyson struck back at Christopher North, calling him rusty, crusty, and musty, yet the poet eliminated from later editions all blemishes which musty Christopher had pointed out. Streeter resolved to strike back with something more tangible than a sarcastic verse.
The trees were large, their axe a little one, and when the boys came to three trees lying near together across the stream Dick was so dismayed that he said to Johnny: "Let's get back out of this creek. We must be on the wrong track, Mr. Streeter said Indians and hunters got through this country, but they never got through this way. What do you think?" "Hate to go back, but s'pose we've got ter."
His touching invocation reached, as it seemed, the very doors of heaven and swung them wide open, and when the people joined in singing the good old hymn, written by Sebastian Streeter, whose first verse runs as follows: What glorious tidings do I hear From my Redeemer's tongue! I can no longer silence bear, I'll burst into a song. I cried almost aloud for great joy.
Montague was not prepared for this contingency; but he did some mental arithmetic. "What is the present price of the stock?" he asked. "Fifty-nine and five-eighths," was the reply. "Then sixty thousand dollars is more than ten per cent, of the market price," said Montague. "Yes," said Mr. Streeter.
"But they have all got fangs, are all poisonous, and all seem anxious to bite," said Dick. "But their bite isn't fatal. "Neddy, Johnny used to talk just as you do, and Mr. Streeter said a lot more, but it makes me sick to hear it. I can feel the little squirmy beasts under my feet every step I take."
"Do you think you'll like shoemaking better?" "I don't know yet, but I think I shall. I like almost anything better than farming." "And I like almost anything better than pegging. I began when I was only twelve years old, and I'm sick of it." "What kind of store is it you are going into?" "Dry goods. My uncle, Benjamin Streeter, mother's brother, keeps a dry goods store on Washington street.
They turned back and Ned led the way while Dick followed until they brought up against an impassable mangrove swamp. Ned looked to the right and the left, and then turning to Billy asked if he knew where camp was. "No," said Dick. "Then we're lost." "Of course. You're always lost in a swamp. Mr. Streeter says so.
Streeter, serjeant-painter to King Charles the Second. In February 1664, the Diarist saw Dryden's Indian Queen acted 'with rich scenes as the like had never been seen here, or haply, except rarely, elsewhere on a mercenary theatre. Mr.
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