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There wor Squire Maunder," here John assumed his full historical key, "him wi' the pot to his vittle-place; and Sir Richard Blewitt shaking over the zaddle, and Squaire Sandford of Lee, him wi' the long nose and one eye, and Sir Gronus Batchildor over to Ninehead Court, and ever so many more on 'em, tulling up how they was arl gooin' to be promoted, for kitching of Tom Faggus.
Among the killed and mortally wounded were Bidwell, Thoburn, Kitching, and that superb soldier and accomplished gentleman, General Charles Russell Lowell, who, although severely wounded in the morning, at the head of his brigade held fast to the stone wall until, in the last decisive charge, his death-blow came.
On receiving a passport from the Secretary of State, with the requisite counter-signature of the Russian Ambassador, he wrote to John Kitching, the 25th of the Fourth Month:
We had difficulty in remembering that he really could not see when he turned so rapidly towards anybody approaching him or whose voice he recognised! To Colonel Kitching during this dark period he wrote one day: "Anybody can believe in the sunshine.
However, he said nothing, but merely intimated that if she would leave the room he would take his breakfast. "An' if you wants anythin' else, Mr. Fitzgerald," she said, going to the door, "you knows your way to the bell as easily as I do to the kitching," and, with a final chirrup, she crackled out of the room.
"As to dinner, sir," she said faintly, "it is agreed, no kitching fire in the hevening. That is understood." I said, "Oh, certainly!" again. "What I should recommend," she said and she winced obtrusively at every sixth word "is an 'arty meal at one, and a light supper at height." "That will suit me admirably," I said. She tapped her fingers together indulgently. "So I thought," she murmured.
Alice gave a loud, silly little titter. She felt awkward. Her mind flew back to her own kitching. Ever so queer! She wanted to be back in it again. A strange company assembled in the Burnells' washhouse after tea. Round the table there sat a bull, a rooster, a donkey that kept forgetting it was a donkey, a sheep and a bee.
Commissioner Booth-Hellberg, Commissioner Howard, who had been summoned by telegram from his furlough, Colonel Kitching, Brigadier Cox, Adjutant Catherine Booth, Sergeant Bernard Booth, Captain Taylor, his last Assistant Secretary, Nurse Ada Timson of the London Hospital, and Captain Amelia Hill, his housekeeper.
"I've that poor old soul, Miss Brennan, a-sittin' in my kitching, as warm as warm," she went on. "Didn't you know, m'lady? 'Twas 'er as went to look for Mrs. Wade. How she knew as Mrs. Wade would content a child callin' for 'er Ma, passes me." "Oh, I am glad you have poor Lizzie. I never liked to think of her alone in that wretched place.
Just as I was leavin' the kitching I 'eard Mr. Fitzgerald a-comin' in, and, turnin' round, looked at the clock, that 'avin' been my custom when my late 'usband came in, in the early mornin', I bein' a-preparin' 'is meal." "And the time was?" asked Mr. Gorby, breathlessly. "Five minutes to two o'clock," replied Mrs. Sampson. Mr. Gorby thought for a moment.
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