Fust-rate little chap,——said the papa.——Chip of the old block. Regl’r little Johnny, you know.
"I watched you go through here that morning. You had no hat on, and you were singing a hymn."
"Are you going to promise?" he said again, and moved a little nearer.
Judge James Hall, while living in Illinois, wrote a brief account of one of the crimes committed by these outlaws, and in April, 1824, published it in The Port Folio of Philadelphia. In his introductory remarks he comments: “Neither avarice nor want nor any of the usual inducements to the commission of crime, seemed to govern their conduct. A savage thirst for blood—a deep-rooted enmity against human nature, could alone be discovered in their actions.... Plunder was not their object; they took only what would have been freely given them, and no more than what was necessary to supply the immediate wants of nature; they destroyed without having suffered injury, and without the prospect of benefit.... Mounted on fine horses they plunged into the forest, eluded pursuit by frequently changing their course, and appeared unexpectedly to perpetrate new horrors, at points distant from those where they were supposed to lurk.”
And that was all; no beginning, no end, and I wondered what he was at, with his silly stories of Red Hens, fit only for a lot of bare-legged children; but the Duke must have seen something else, for after a little he broke into a more lively humour and said, half laughing, "Upon my word, Father O'Rourke, you Irish are a wonderful people!"
That was in the very early days of her life. As the "tyke" grew up she dropped all outward signs of tykishness, and seemed to be endeavouring to prove that eccentricity was the very last thing to be ascribed to her. The Misses Lewin, whose finishing-school was renowned throughout the county, declared they had never had so quick or so hardworking a pupil as Miss Ashurst, or one who had done them so much credit in so short a time. The new rector of Helmingham declared that he should not have known how to get through his class and parish work had it not been for the assistance which he had received from Miss Ashurst at times when--when really--well, other young ladies would, without the slightest harm to themselves, be it said, have been enjoying themselves in the croquet-ground. When the wardrobe woman retired from the school to enter into the bonds of wedlock with the drill-sergeant (whose expansive chest and manly figure, when going through the "exercise without clubs," might have softened Medusa herself), Marian Ashurst at once took upon herself the vacant situation, and resolutely refused to allow any one else to fill it. These may have been put down as eccentricities; they were evidences of odd character certainly not usually found in girls of Marian's age, but they were proofs of a spirit far above tykishness. All her best friends, except, of course, the members of her family whose views regarding her were naturally extremely circumscribed, noticed in the girl an exceedingly great desire for the acquisition of knowledge, a power of industry and application quite unusual, an extraordinary devotion to anything she undertook, which suffered itself to be turned away by no temptation, to be wearied by no fatigue. Always eager to help in any scheme, always bright-eyed and clear-headed and keen-witted, never unduly asserting herself, but always having her own way while persuading her interlocutors that she was following their dictates, the odd shy child grew up into a girl less shy, indeed, but scarcely less odd. And certainly not lovable: those who fought her battles most strongly--and even in that secluded village there were social and domestic battles, strong internecine warfare, carried on with as much rancour as in the great city itself--were compelled to admit there was "a something" in her which they disliked, and which occasionally was eminently repulsive.
ton. Leila doesn’t look it, I must say—not in some lights.”
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