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Updated: June 3, 2025
Say 'Yes, you fool say 'Yes." "Why?" "Oh, because I've written I've written some verses about it when I was a bit homesick, I s'pose and I'd like you to tell " "Hand them over," sighed I. "I will, since you're so pressing. They're in the Edgar Doe stanza." Doe gave me a soiled piece of paper, and watched me breathlessly. I read: TRURO TOWER
Inasmuch as it has become our duty to describe this celebrated conflict, in a popular and engaging manner, if possible, we shall have to do so through Mr. Wetherell's eyes, and on his responsibility. The biographies of some of the gentlemen concerned have since been published, and for some unaccountable reason contain no mention of the Truro franchise. "All Gaul," said Mr.
Bixby's occupation is gone now. We have changed all that, and we are ruled from imperial Rome. It was Isaac D. Worthington or shall we say Mr. Flint? who was responsible for this pernicious change for the worse, who conceived the notion of leasing for the Truro the Central and the Northwestern, thus making one railroad out of the three. If such a gigantic undertaking could be got through, Mr.
He then told them whose son this Alexander the Great was; no less than Philip of Macedon. "I never heard of him," said one. "I think I have," said the "geographer," ashamed of being thought ignorant, "Silas, was'nt he a Cornish man? I knew one of the Alexanders at Truro!" Mr. C. now went on describing to them, in glowing colours, the valour, and the wars, and the conquests of this famous general.
Victoria regarded him in silence. He appeared to her at that moment the embodiment of the power he represented. Force seemed to emanate from him, and she understood more clearly than ever how, from a poor boy on an obscure farm in Truro, he had risen to his present height. "I don't say the service is what it should be," he went on, "but give me time give me time.
Of course he fared as ill with his fellow-scholars at Truro Grammar School as he did well with the masters; but an elder boy took him under his protection, and not only lessened his grievances at the time, but founded a lasting friendship.
The noise in the corridors grew louder, some one dealt a smashing kick on a panel, and Wetherell ventured to ask Mr. Bixby if he thought the doors would hold. "They can break in all they've a mind to now," he chuckled; "the Truro Franchise is safe." "What do you mean?" Wetherell demanded excitedly. "If a member hain't present when a question is put, he can't git into a roll-call," said Bijah.
Thus the day passed, and the gentlemen of the Lovejoy and Duncan factions sat, as tight as ever in their seats, and the Truro Franchise bill still slumbered undisturbed in Mr. Chauncey Weed's committee.
Merrill had sent for the conductor and bidden him take care of Miss Wetherell, and recommend her in his name to a conductor on the Truro Road. The man took off his cap to Mr. Merrill and called him by name and promised. It was a dark day, and long after the train had pulled out Cynthia remembered the tearful faces of the family standing on the damp platform of the station.
It may not be incorrect to say that Cornwall of to-day has several capitals: Penzance is the commercial centre of the far west; Redruth and Camborne dominate the mining districts; St. Austell is the metropolis of china-clay; while Bodmin and Launceston perhaps more intimately represent agriculture. Truro stands apart from them all, and represents the Church.
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