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"I'm only a private personage--an unassuming stranger--lately arrived
from America."
"No! Not a missionary! not a whaler! not a member of his Majesty's
government! not even a Secretary of the Navy! Ah! Heaven! it is too
blissful to be true, alas! I do but dream. And yet that noble, honest
countenance--those oblique, ingenuous eyes--that massive head, incapable
of--of anything; your hand; give me your hand, bright waif. Excuse these
tears. For sixteen weary years I have yearned for a moment like this,
and--"
Here his feelings were too much for him, and he swooned away. I pitied
this poor creature from the bottom of my heart. I was deeply moved.
I shed a few tears on him, and kissed him for his mother. I then took
what small change he had, and "shoved."
FIRST INTERVIEW WITH ARTEMUS WARD--[Written about 1870.]
I had never seen him before. He brought letters of introduction from
mutual friends in San Francisco, and by invitation I breakfasted with
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