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Updated: August 26, 2024
Thank God, I'm a Whig." "Goy! there's nothing like it," said Clayton. Not far from this point the canal passed an old church and graveyard at a bridge where Mr. Clayton said his namesake, the revolutionary Governor of Delaware, was buried. Here Randel's plain conveyance took them in, and in the moonlight they drove a few miles to Mr.
Randel's estate, near the banks of a river, under a long table-mountain of barren clay and iron stain, on the farther shore. "Here," said Randel, "is my future estate of Randalia. Here I shall see all the commerce of the canal passing by, and garnishee every vessel that pays my tolls to the Canal Company." "Randel," asked Mr.
The easy sensibilities of Judge Custis were at once moved. Senator Clayton, looking from one to the other in nervous indecision, seeing Custis's dewy eyes, and Randel's proud breaking down, was himself carried away, and shouted: "I goy! This is a conspiracy. But, Randel, I'll take your case; I can't see a man cry. Goy!"
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