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Updated: May 7, 2025
James and myself have been abroad with the young woman, ever since she left Yarmouth under Mr. james's protection. We have been in a variety of places, and seen a deal of foreign country. We have been in France, Switzerland, Italy, in fact, almost all parts.
Besides, I've got a likin' for sea-air, bein' my native air, so to speak, and I've no doubt that theology would come more easy to me if I was in a snug little room facin' the sea, where I could see the blue waters dancin', an' the shipping go by, an' the youngsters playin' on the sands. Yes, it must be done at Yarmouth. London would never do; it's too hot an' stuffy.
The lawyer who made the remark was also the son of a London minister, and, therefore, might have been expected to have known better. I fear the Yarmouth minister never forgave him. He meant well, I dare say.
But all that day and all that night it rained as it can rain nowhere else in the world that I have seen, till at last we waded on our road knee deep in water, and when we came to the ford of the river it was to find a wide roaring flood, that no man could pass in anything less frail than a Yarmouth herring boat.
"I've been just trying to persuade him, Kate," said Jessie, as the former entered, "that in a week or two a trip to Yarmouth will do him so much good, but he does not seem to think he will be equal to it." "Come, now, Miss Jessie, that's not a fair way to put it.
Neighbour Dearborn's darter married a gentleman to Yarmouth, that speculates in the smugglin line; well, when she went on board to sail down to Nova-Scotia, all her folks took on as if it was a funeral; they said she was goin to be buried alive like the nuns in Portengale that get a frolickin, break out of the pastur, and race off, and get catched and brought back agin.
I had come out of the house before supper was laid, as I often used, and had made my way along the edge of the dyke which runs through our meadows into the broad, which we call Breydon Water; and there by the margin of the broad I stood, while the sun was setting behind me, and watched the light flush and fade over the grey spire and high red roofs of Yarmouth town.
Well, so hour after hour passed, and the night was so calm we could hear the chimes of the Yarmouth clocks, and the water going lap-lap against the sides of the Lively Nan, and the rudder going cheep-cheep as the sway of the sea stirred it. At last, says Lawrence: 'It's reg'lar dull here; let's go below. 'What's the use? says I: 'there's no light, and the hands are all fast asleep.
He flew into a passion, did nothing, and remained on his estates until 1853, when he and his family went into lodgings at Yarmouth. I have not discovered how much he profited by the intrusion of the railway, except when he pilloried the contractor, his neighbour, Mr. Then he tried again to be put on the Commission of the Peace, with no success.
The news that "a man named Hogarth" had written to his daughter would hardly have suggested Richard safe elsewhere; but, one night at Yarmouth, he had seen Richard Hogarth inexplicably kiss his daughter's hand. "Hogarth?" said he: "what Christian name?" "Richard".
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