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Updated: May 5, 2025
So though I get nothing at present, at least by the estate, I am fain to pay this money rather than rob my father, and much good may it do them that I may have no more further trouble from them. I hear to-day that Tom Woodall, the known chyrurgeon, is killed at Somerset House by a Frenchman, but the occasion Sir W. Batten could not tell me. 2nd.
Lead rained in, searching the ravine slope where the six white men were lying. "This is no place," panted Scout Chapman. "We'll all be dead, without a chance. The open is better, where we can see around. Come on, everybody." "As skirmishers, men. Keep together and keep low," Sergeant Woodall ordered. Out they lunged, into the very face of the enemy.
Woodall and Mrs. Laura Couzzens responded to Mrs. Catt's call for marchers at the Chicago and St. Louis conventions. Governor N. E. Harris refused to include woman suffrage in the call for the special session of the Legislature which made the State "bone dry," but this year it enacted a number of laws for which the association had long worked.
"I fancy that it is going to be all right, doctor," he said, "Wyatt tells me so himself, and what he says is confirmed by Woodall, the gunsmith. It seems the lad is an extraordinarily good shot. I told you last night that he had been practising a good deal, but I did not like to raise your hopes too high until I had seen Woodall. I will bet you a guinea that Wyatt comes out of it all right."
"I am Miss Carrie Hood Woodall, the lady lawyer from Hoboken, who had such a nice little paragraph in The Riviera Sun, close to your advertisement; and this is my chaperone, Mrs. Elizabeth Boat Cully. We're touring Europe, and we want to take a trip with you in your automobile, if " "Unfortunately, ladies," said I, "the services of er my car are already engaged to Mrs.
Sergeant Woodall, shot in the side; Private Harrington, shot in the hip; Private Roth, shot in the shoulder; and Scout Chapman, his ankle shot off, peered and listened and waited. They had waited about an hour when through the mist they saw an Indian cautiously riding in. He was reconnoitering the wallow. Their hearts sank.
The Indians gave way before but closed in behind. "Fall back, fall back! Steady, now. Hold your intervals," Sergeant Woodall warned. "We'll try for shelter beyond. Mebbe we can make Gageby Creek. Don't waste a shot, but shoot to kill." The sixth horse had followed them. Good old Baldy! An Indian dashed for him Sergeant Woodall took quick aim and the pony scoured off, its saddle-pad empty.
Well, when I got to our place this morning the boss sent for me at once, and told me the news about poor old Woodall knocked down by a taxi in the street last night, and now in hospital for they don't know how long. The tickets were bought and the tour arranged, and and in short, you see, they'd got to pick another man at a moment's notice, to go instead. And so "
They kept quiet until he was within point-blank range they could see his red blanket, rolled beneath his saddle. "I'll get him," Sergeant Woodall uttered; took good, long aim, and fired. But he was shaky, the light was poor, and he killed only the horse. "No matter. An Injun afoot is an Injun out of business and needs another Injun to give him a lift," Scout Chapman consoled. Listen!
Mamie Folsom Wynne, Miss Katherine Koch, Mrs. DeLacy Eastman, Mrs. Amelia R. Woodall; recording secretaries, Miss Willette Allen, Mrs. Alice C. Daniels; treasurers, Mrs. E. O. Archer, Mrs. Mary Osborne, Mrs. M. K. Mathews, Mrs. E. C. Cresse; auditor, Mrs. W. H. Felton. In October, 1919, when Mrs.
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