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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Caesar's Commentaries," a "History of the World," and a "History of Turkey" on Standish's shelves, with the two Dictionaries and "Peter Martyr on Rome" on Dr. Fuller's, were as likely to have come in the first ship, and to have afforded as much satisfaction to the hungry readers of the little community as any of the books we find named in the lists of their little stock.
And from the veranda presently came the booming murmur of Standish's voice in a recital of some kind. Gavin reopened his bedroom door and entered. Shutting the door softly behind him, he made a brief mental inventory of the room, then undressed and got into bed. Ten minutes later Miles Standish came into the room. carrying fresh dressings and a bottle of lotion.
Pikes which, perhaps, had been handled by Miles Standish's soldiers, now made their appearance again. Many a young man ransacked the garret and brought forth his great-grandfather's sword, corroded with rust and stained with the blood of King Philip's War.
Out of this he took the bag in which were Mary Standish's belongings, and gave it to Sandy's wife. It was a matter of business now, and he tried to speak in a businesslike way. "Her things are inside. I got them in her cabin. If you find her, after I am gone, you will need them. You understand, of course. And if you don't find her, keep them for me. I shall return some day."
Find her if you can, and let me know. You will do that you will let me know?" "Yes, I shall let you know." "And Rossland. He is a man with many enemies. I am positive his assailant is still on board." "Undoubtedly." The captain hesitated. He did not look at Alan as he said: "There is nothing in Miss Standish's room. Even her bag is gone. I thought I saw things in there when I was with you.
Every man for himself and you've got vile taste. Well, I hear you're the big boss around here. Please, mister, gimme a job?" "Nothing I'd like better," said Standish. "I've got just the thing for you. Sit over on the window-sill and be a lily. Flowers brighten up an office so." "You basely misjudge me. Didn't you know I'm going to work?" Standish's eyes were round and guileless.
It was during the last half hour of this feast that Desire Minter, who with the other girls served the tables where the men sat at meat, placed a little silver cup at Captain Standish's right hand saying, "Priscilla sends you some shrub, kind sir, of her own composition, and prays you drink her health."
I remember how he tried to make me understand just how big my grandfather's interests were by telling me that if two dollars were taken from every man, woman, and child in the United States, it would just about add up to what he and the Grahams possessed, and my Grandfather Standish's interests were three-quarters of the whole.
"Couldst not make thy way through yonder shoals and bring us to the fair shores I told her of! If it be thy fault, Thomas Jones!" The slow clenching of a jaw square and strong as a mastiff's finished the sentence, and Standish's eyes came back to the rude hut where all he loved lay dying, perhaps through this man's fault.
The origin of the feud is involved in mystery; it is impossible to say which party was the first aggressor in the far-off anterevolutionary ages; but the fact remains that the youngsters of those antipodal sections entertained a mortal hatred for each other, and that this hatred had been handed down from generation to generation, like Miles Standish's punch-bowl.
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