Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: October 25, 2025
That was all he thought of. That, and to get away to flee from himself. Afterward, analysis of actions would come. At present, only action; only action. It was five miles to the Cottonton depot, reached by a road that branched off from the Logan Pike about half a mile above the spot where Waterbury had been thrown. He remembered that there was a through train at ten-fifteen.
The following is a list of the clergymen who were present: The Rt. Rev. the Bishop; the Rev. Dr. E. E. Beardsley, New Haven; the Rev. Messrs. H. A. Adams, Wethersfield; R. R. M. Converse, Waterbury; W. C. Cooley, Roxbury; T. B. Fogg, Brooklyn; J. F. George, Woodbury; Prof.
I lay reading and smoking awhile; then, when I could hold my eyes open no longer and was about to put out the light, the great clock began to boom, and I counted ten. I reached for the Waterbury to see how it was getting along. It was marking 9.30. It seemed rather poor speed for a three-dollar watch, but I supposed that the climate was affecting it.
His letter ended thus: "Shivers got a letter from his Mother yesterday with three pounds in it: if you happen to see Uncle Dick, will you tell him I want a `Waterbury' dreadfully?" The last day of the term came, and one by one, or two by two, the various boys went away, until at last only Bertie Fellowes and Shivers were left in the great house.
Samuel Hart, Hartford; J. G. Jacocks, New Haven; E. S. Lines, New Haven; R. W. Micou, Waterbury; S. O. Seymour, Litchfield; James Stoddard, Watertown; Hiram Stone, Bantam Falls; Elisha Whittlesey, Hartford; Alex. Mackay-Smith, New York City. On the twelfth day of June, 1883, the annual Convention of the Diocese met in Trinity Church, New Haven.
What use would it be if they knew? It alters nothing it's only in my own heart. I have no right to pain you like this. I will tell you quietly. You know that he went to Waterbury, on business. Did he tell you? it was to buy a share in a local newspaper. I, in my blindness and selfishness, disliked that. I wanted to live here; the thought of going to live in the country seemed unbearable.
"The wharf's up beyond the second bridge the Covington Bridge," explained Waterbury with the air of the old experienced globe-trotter. "There's a third one, further up, but you can't see it for the smoke." And he went on and on, volubly airing his intimate knowledge of the great city which he visited once a year for two or three days to buy goods.
He had risen slowly, and was dabbing furtively at his nose with a silk red-and-blue handkerchief the Waterbury colors. "Just a minute," he added, striving to keep his voice from sliding the scale. He was horribly calm, but his gray eyes were quivering as was his lip. "I didn't throw it. I I didn't throw it. I was sick. I I've been sick.
The crowd surged back. Owner and jockey were face to face. "When thieves fall out!" they thought; and they waited for the fun. Something was due them. It came in a flash. Waterbury shot out his big fist, and little Garrison thumped on the turf with a bang, a thin streamer of blood threading its way down his gray-white face. "You miserable little whelp!" howled his owner. "You've dishonored me.
But at the first word he straightened up as if an electric shock had passed through him. "Favorite for the Carter Handicap Poisoned," was the great, staring title. The details were meager; brutally meager. They were to the effect that some one had gained access to the Waterbury stable and had fed Sis strychnine.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking