Meredith Nicholson

Meredith Nicholson

Summary

Portrait of Meredith Nicholson Meredith Nicholson The war of the Carolinas (1909)

To the governor of South Carolina?
“On an occasion so purely social as this,” began Governor Dangerfield, balancing himself lightly upon the balustrade, “it would be most indelicate for me to discuss any of the great issues of the day. (A voice: Oh, I don’t know!) I endorse, with all the strength of my being, and with all the sincerity of which my heart is capable, the stirring tribute paid to your noble profession by my friend, known far and near, and justly known, as the great reform governor of South Carolina. (Cheers.) I am proud that the American press is incorruptible.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Meredith Nicholson Meredith Nicholson The war of the Carolinas (1909)

Griswold and Ardmore had often idealized themselves as hopeless pursuers of the elusive, the unattainable, the impossible; or at least Ardmore had, and Griswold had entered into the spirit of this sort of thing for the joy it gave Ardmore. They had discussed frequently the call of soul to soul—the quick glance passing between perfect strangers in crowded thoroughfares—and had fruitlessly speculated as to their proper course in the event the call seemed imperative. A glance of the eye is one thing, but it is quite another to address a stranger and offer eternal friendship.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Meredith Nicholson Meredith Nicholson The war of the Carolinas (1909)

Cooke ran forward for a colloquy with the engineer over their orders; the guards climbed into one of the box-cars, and the train moved slowly out of the Raleigh yards to the main line and rattled away toward Kildare, with Mr. Ardmore, pipe in mouth, perched in the caboose cupola.
A caboose, you may not know, is the pleasantest place in the world to ride. Essentially a thing of utility, it is not less the vehicle of joy. Neither the captain of a trading schooner nor the admiral of a canal fleet is more sublimely autocratic than the freight conductor in his watch-tower.
Source: Gutenberg

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