Mr. Cole

“ Mr. Cole was not as familiar with Shakespeare as he might have been. He failed to recognize the mandrake.
"You needn't do that," he said. "The fact is that the person I want to frighten is a girl."
"Oh," said Georgie doubtfully. His hesitation was not the result of any chivalrous impulse. He merely dreaded complications. "Will she faint?"
"No. I shall be there to protect her."
This opened up new and attractive possibilities to Mr. Cole. He began to think of himself as the hero of the drama, Nellie taking the part of the damsel in distress. Georgie put his thought into words for him. ”

“ Cole returned and located on the east side of Touisset Neck, on Kickemuit River in Warren. The farm he owned and the well he dug in 1677 are yet in possession of his lineal descendants. Mr. Cole was a member of John Myles's Church and was an influential man in town and church. He died Jan. 26, 1699, leaving a large descent to perpetuate the name and good qualities of their distinguished ancestor. Miss Asenath W. Cole, a descendant, lives on the ancestral land, and is loyal to the Cole history. ”

“ The first thing the Squire did when we got out, was to attack Mr. Cole, telling him he ought not to have let Lease die. As he was in a way about it, Cole excused it, quietly saying it was no fault of his.
“I should like to know what it is that has killed him, then?”
“Grief,” said Mr. Cole. “The man has died of what we call a broken heart. ”

“ Mr. Chandler, drawing his hand from his brother, held it towards the Squire. At that moment, a suppressed stir was heard outside, and an eager voice. Tom had arrived: having run all the way from Islip.
“Where’s papa?—where’s he lying? Is he hurt very much?”
Cole appeared, marshalling him in. A well-grown young fellow for sixteen, with dark eyes, a fresh colour, and a good-natured face; altogether, the image of his father. Cole took a look down at the mattress, and saw how very much nearer something was at hand than it had been only a few minutes before. ”

“ Cole an' Mr. Cole. I thought I'd like to hear. Now I'll be going back up the mountain. Violetta an' Rosalinda are pulling fodder and mother is ploughing for wheat. I do the spinning mostly. You've got lovely china asters, Mrs. Cole. They have a flower they called magnolia down 't Richmond—like a great swe [Pg 585] et white cup, an' they had pink crape myrtles. I liked it in Richmond, for all the death an' mourning. Thunder Run's so far away. Good mahnin', Mrs. Cole. Good mahnin', Mr. Cole."
The slight homespun figure disappeared around the bend of the road. Sairy sewed in silence. ”

“ Cole, the surgeon, came in after dinner, and was told of my wickedness. Lena ran up to me and said might she send her new sixpence to the poor little children who had no bread to eat.
“What’s that Lease about, that he does not go to work?” asked the Squire, in loud tones. “Letting folks hear that his young ones are starving!”
“The man can’t work,” said Mr. Cole. ”

“ The waves are going over him every minute. Do you think you can get to him, sir? Wouldn’t you like me to go along? I’m a pretty fairish swimmer, sir.”
“Let me go!” cried Roy, hurrying back with the big coil of half-inch rope. But Mr. Cole shook his head as he took the rope and tied it under his armpits.
“One’s enough,” he answered. “You keep this end of the rope and when you think best—haul in hard.” He took a final look out of the window at the tossing boat and went to the door and flung it open. The wind and rain burst in upon them, making them gasp. Mr. Cole turned to Dick. ”

“ But the boys were staring in amazement at the upturned face on the beach.
“Billy Noon!” cried Chub.
“Is he drowned?” asked Roy in a trembling voice.
“No, he’s alive,” answered the artist, “but we’ve [273] got to get him to the boat. Who’ll give me a hand with him?”
“Here,” said Dick, “you let us take him, Mr. Cole. You’ve done enough. He isn’t heavy.”
But he was, for his clothes were sodden with water; and the wind buffeted them at every step. Mr. Cole bore his share of the burden and in a few moments they laid him on the floor of the studio. ”

“ Brandon, and I appreciate your kindness."
"Mr. Cole is a nominee of your uncle, of course," Brandon went on, with a little nod of acknowledgment for the other's thanks. "Your uncle makes a point of never sitting on boards if he can help it, and has never been [Pg 67] represented except by his solicitor since he acquired so large an interest in the bank. As a matter of fact, I think Mr. Cole is coming here as much to examine the affairs of the branch as to look after your uncle's account. Cole is a very first-class man of business, isn't he?"
Frank's answer was a grim smile. ”

“ Cole, in the course of the constant confidence we liv'd in, acquainted me that there was one Mr. Barvile, a gentleman who us'd her house, just come to town, whom she was not a little perplex'd about providing a suitable companion for; which was indeed a point of difficulty, as he was under the tyranny of a cruel taste; that of an ardent desire, not only of being unmercifully whipp'd himself, but of whipping others, in such sort, that tho' he paid extravagantly those who had the courage and complaisance to submit to his humour ”

“ Don looked at the man carefully, noting the details of his appearance. Finally, he shook his head.
"Mr. Masterson," he said slowly, "up to now, I've always thought you were a good instructor and a fine advisor. I've sat in your classes, and I even developed a lot of respect for you. All at once, you've shown me how wrong I could be." He held up a hand.
"Be quiet," he said sharply, "both of you. And listen carefully. I want to make myself fully understood. I want to drive one thought into your stupid heads. You're in the wrong part of the galaxy for such remarks as that one you just made." ”

“ So Chub told him about the missing bread and butter and the verses substituted, about the fish and the poem written on birch bark, and so worked around to Billy’s experience with the Great Indian Chief Medicine Company.
“Well, he’s tried his hand at lots of things,” said Mr. Cole, “and strangely enough he does everything well. I haven’t any doubt but that if I could persuade [256] Noon to take the Roger to sell for me he’d find a buyer inside of a week.”
“Couldn’t you?” asked Dick. The artist shook his head.
“I’m afraid not,” he answered. “He’s a pretty busy person.” ”

“ William Cole has begun his first experience of being 'rocked in the cradle of the deep.'"
"Was the Arcadia the ship he was going out on?" asked Ida.
"Yes," replied her father; "that was the one in which he had booked his passage."
"'Old King Cole was a merry old soul,'" chanted Guy, with his mouth half full of toast and butter. "I wish he hadn't gone. I'm sure we shan't ever have such a nice man again."
"He was a civil, sharp young fellow," said Mr. Ormond. "I suppose he hopes to do better in the Colonies than by staying on in the old country. Well, it's very possible he may get on. ”

“ The reiterated “Good morning—morning, morning, morning,” was returned shortly and without merriment; and Cole declared that he could have flung a clog-sole at the man only for his jarring laugh. Somebody had called the supervisor “the nail i' the stocks”—an expression from the fulling-mill, where, should a nail get into the trough where the heavy stampers pounded the wet cloth, the whole work was rent—and the nickname stuck.
And, as if he had now less to conceal, Cope, too, bore himself differently. At any rate, if he still used the “Mr.” ”

“ He turned very pale when he had made this offer.
“Ah,” said Cole, “anybody could tell you was a gentleman.”
“You accept my offer, then?”
“Nay, I mean it is easy to see you don't know trades. I musn't meddle with Mr. Little now; he is right with the Trade.”
“What, not if I pay you five times as much? say ten times then; two hundred pounds.”
“Nay, we Union chaps are not malefactors. You can't buy us to injure an unoffending man. ”

“ If not, I go on with my lesson."
"I will," cried poor Tom, with a groan.
But hark! from the woodlands the sound of a gun,
The wounded bird flutters and dies;
Where can be the pleasure for nothing but fun,
To shoot the poor thing as it flies?
Or you, Mr. Butcher, and Fisherman, you
May follow your trades, I must own:
So chimneys are swept when they want it—but who
Would sweep them for pleasure alone?
If men would but think of the torture they give
To creatures that cannot complain,
They surely would let the poor animals live,
And not make a sport of their pain. ”

“ Cole, the rector of Aston; he is decidedly and avowedly anti-evangelical; he denounces us as a living curse to our church, and a disgrace to our order; but he is a gay man of the world, will shuffle the cards, dance at a ball, and visit a theatre, without any sense of impropriety; he rather glories in his shame."
"Their dependence for success in their official labours," said Mr. Lewellin, "is on the efficacy of the sacraments, and they may be regarded as magicians of a new order, operating on their deluded devotees by a sort of spiritual legerdemain ”

“ And love to me; wherein no love is lost.
As you have taught me various verse to use,
I have to right you to be a Christian Muse.'"
I have been thus particular in transcribing this passage from Cole, because this copy, mentioned as being in the possession of Mr. Knight, jun. (quere, where is it now?) , varies from mine, obtained from Mr. Heber's Collection, and was no doubt the one prepared and corrected for the press by Basse. The following poems, mentioned by Cole, are not in my copy:—
"To the Right Hon. ”

“ Cole, where whist and music formed the entertaining pleasures. Here I felt especially at home with Mr. George Hildreth as whist partner, his being almost deaf giving me a fine opportunity to be diverted [Pg 216] without exertion when too tired even to talk. ”

“ It was Sir Vernon Brooklyn’s family party. His seventieth birthday, sir. Besides those in the house there were Mr. and Mrs. George, Mr. Carter Woodman, sir—the solicitor, who is also Sir Vernon’s cousin—and his wife, and Mr. Lucas—and, yes, Mr. Ellery.”
“When did they leave?”
“They all left a minute or two after ten o’clock. Mr. and Mrs. George and the Woodmans are staying at the Cunningham, sir, and they walked. Mr. Lucas—the playwriter, sir—he went off in his car to Hampstead, and Mr. Ellery, he walked off in a great hurry.” ”

“ She was particularly angry with Thomas.
“I call it abominable. We have just succeeded in clearing one innocent man, whom an hour or two ago you believed to be guilty: and now you are wantonly throwing suspicion on some one else. What business is it of yours? I know Winter had nothing to do with it.”
“That is all very well, Miss Cowper; but it was my duty to tell the police, and, moreover, by doing so, I probably speeded up Mr. Brooklyn’s release by at least twenty-four hours. It is always wise to have the police on your side—when you can.” ”

“ We had a nurse, an artilleryman, whose name was Cole, but unlike “Old King Cole,” he was not a “jolly old soul.” He growled and grumbled constantly, and in these days we would call him a “kicker.” One day I started from the tent with more than I could carry, a glass of cherry preserves fell, the glass was broken and contents spilled. The next day, Cole was sent with me to assist in carrying our dinner. As we passed the cherries still lying in the dust, Cole growled out, “Just look at them good cherries; you ought to be made get down and lick ’em up.” ”

“ King Cole moved softly in the Ring again,
Where now the owls and he were left alone:
The night was loud with water upon stone.
He watched the night; then taking up his flute,
He breathed a piping of this life of ours,
The half-seen prize, the difficult pursuit,
The passionate lusts that shut us in their towers,
The love that helps us on, the fear that lowers,
The pride that makes us and the pride that mars,
The beauty and the truth that are our stars. ”

“ The Showman:
It was my fault, I always tell my wife
I put too great constraint upon his will;
Things would be changed if he were with us still.
I ought not to have forced him to the trade.
King Cole:
"A forced thing finds a vent," my father said;
And yet a quickening tells me that your son
Is not far from you now; for I am one
Who feels these things, like comfort in the heart.
The couple watched King Cole and shrank apart,
For brightness covered him with glittering.
"Tell me your present troubles," said the King,
"For you are worn. What sorrow makes you sad?" ”

“ With us, he was making his first trip across. From London I learned he went to Capetown, South Africa.
The greatest character on board was old Cole. In [Pg 45] all my life I have never seen a man his equal in many respects. Medium in size with brawny arms and an over-developed muscular neck, he reminded one of a huge beast, muscles superbly developed and mind untrained. Cole was some forty years of age, and a boaster from the word "Go." At the early age of ten he ran away from his parents in Norway, and secured passage on a sail boat bound for Odessa on the Black Sea. ”

“ Cole appears to have early cultivated a taste for the wildest of adventures, and with a ferocity and cruelly almost fiendish, the taking of human life, when it interfered with his plans appears to have been no more to him than the use of hard words among ordinary men. ”