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Updated: June 12, 2025
The exploit seemed to please the Colonel, who, after he likewise had done the liquor justice, screwed on the lid with ceremony, offered Stephen his arm with still greater ceremony, and they walked off down the street together. Stephen drew from his pocket several of Judge Whipple's cigars, to which his new friend gave unqualified praise. On every hand Vicksburg showed signs of hard usage.
A transfigured cattle-pen Emerson the hub of Concord His incorrigible modesty Grocery-store sages To make common men feel more like Emerson than he did His personal appearance His favorite gesture A glance like the reveille of a trumpet The creaking boots "The muses are in the woods" Emerson could not read Hawthorne Typical versus individual Benefit from child-prattle Concord-grape Bull Sounds of distant battle Politics, sociology, and grape- culture The great white fence Richard Henry Stoddard A country youth of genius Whipple's Attic salt An unwritten romance The consulship retires literature Louisa's tragedy Hard hit The spiritual sphere of good men Nearer than in the world The return of the pilgrim.
Richter gone, and the Judge often away in mysterious conference, he was left for hours at a spell the sole tenant of the office. Fortunately there was work of Richter's and of Mr. Whipple's left undone that kept him busy. This Thursday morning, however, he found the Judge getting into that best black coat which he wore on occasions. His manner had recently lost much of its gruffness.
A hint of it was in Whipple's voice as he asked, gravely: "Do you bind yourself to pursue Clayte and bring him, if possible, to justice?" "Bind myself to nothing. I'll give eight hundred thousand dollars for that suitcase." He fumbled in his pocket with an interrogative look at Whipple, and, "May I smoke in here?" and lit a cigarette without waiting a reply.
That night they sat up late, since it was to be their last evening together, and Joe was very miserable. He begged Kenneth to go to Dr. Randall and tell just what had occurred. But Kenneth shook his head. "He wouldn't believe me if I did," he said. "And, anyhow, what's the use of staying while Whipple's here? He'd get me fired sooner or later. No, the best way to do is to quit now.
A sigh shook Silas Whipple's wasted frame, and he died. By Winston Churchill Mr. Brinsmade and the Doctor were the first to leave the little room where Silas Whipple had lived and worked and died, Mr. Brinsmade bent upon one of those errands which claimed him at all times. He took Shadrach with him. Virginia sat on, a vague fear haunting her, a fear for her father's safety. Where was Clarence?
He was certainly as friendly to what promised well in the younger men as he was to what was done well in their elders; and there was no one writing in his day whose virtues failed of his recognition, though it might happen that his foibles would escape Whipple's censure.
"If you squirt water you may spoil the wall paper." "We'll be careful," promised Freddie, and then Mrs. Whipple's maid opened the door, and the twins went in to have a good time. Laddie was very glad to see them, and he was much amused at the "go-around" bugs.
"I guess they aren't forbidden to," answered Kenneth. "And I don't believe you've got any right to criticise the size of my subscription until you've given something yourself." Mr. Whipple's smile grew tremulous and almost flickered out.
And then, "What was it?" she demanded. "He said that his mother was alone in town, and needed him." Virginia got up without a word, and went into Judge Whipple's room. And there the Colonel found her some hours later, reading aloud from a scrap-book certain speeches of Mr. Lincoln's which Judge Whipple had cut from newspapers.
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