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Updated: June 26, 2025
And the red-cheeked vetturino with the flower in his button-hole, whistled a love-song, and thought of his Piametta, I suppose. Meantime, Mae, left to herself, grew penitent and reckless by turns, blushed alternately with shame and with quick pulse-beats, as she remembered Norman Mann's face, or the officer's smile. She wondered where he lived, and whether she would see him soon again. Poor child!
She saw little Minnie Wager, scrutinised the child's features, and had no difficulty whatever in discerning Harvey's eyes, Harvey's mouth. Why should she have troubled herself to come? It was very hard to control her indignation. If Mrs. Abbott thought her rather strange, rather abrupt, what did it matter? At Mrs. Rayner Mann's she passed into a soothing and delicious atmosphere.
While the storm-stead show was in the vicinity the villages suffered from an invasion of these dogs. Nothing told more truly the dreadful tale of the showman's life in winter. Sam'l Mann's was a big show, and half a dozen smaller ones, most of which were familiar to us, crawled in its wake. Others heard of its whereabouts and came in from distant parts.
Mann's request, examined their books for a series of years, and ascertained both the quality and the amount of work performed by persons in their employment, and the result of the investigation is a most astonishing superiority in productive power on the part of the educated over the uneducated laborer. The hand is found to be another hand when guided by an intelligent mind.
There was a smile on Norman Mann's lips. "Here's health and happiness to the poor child at any rate," he said. "He pities me," thought Mae, "and I hate him." But then she didn't at all. Mae wandered off to the kitchen, as usual, that day, for another of Lisetta's stories.
In writing of this critical period of her life Mrs. Stowe says: "After sending the last proof-sheet to the office I sat alone reading Horace Mann's eloquent plea for these young men and women, then about to be consigned to the slave warehouse of Bruin & Hill in Alexandria, Va., a plea impassioned, eloquent, but vain, as all other pleas on that side had ever proved in all courts hitherto.
Mann's chief work, indubitably one of the best German novels of the last decades, is entitled The Buddenbrooks, the Degeneration of a Family . The book would perhaps never have been written without the example of Zola in Les Rougon-Macquart, but it is far from being a mere copy; for a much more personal conception of the subject and a tone of narration in which the finest irony is mingled raise it far above the arid level of the roman expérimental.
The exertions for Danny Mann's recapture proved unavailing, and in a few weeks the affair had begun to grow unfamiliar to the tongues and recollections of the people. Hardress's depression reached an unbearable degree, and Anne at last grew seriously uneasy. He assured her that if she knew all she would pity and not blame.
Mae laughed a little hysterically. At that moment she caught Mr. Mann's eyes, full of sympathy. "But goodbye," she added, and opened the door, "I'm going." "Alone?" asked Norman, involuntarily. "Yes, alone," replied Mae. "Have you any objections, boys?" Eric and Albert were talking busily and did not hear her. Norman Mann held open the door for her to pass out, and smiled as she thanked him.
"Oh, Frank, I'm sure something is wrong!" cried Richard, when the boy was gone. "It looks so," replied the stock-clerk. "Never mind. Remember you are in the right, and keep a stiff upper lip." Much troubled in mind, Richard slowly descended the steps, and entered Mr. Mann's office. As before the gentleman was alone.
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