He had been well aware ever since his coming to Hathelsborough of an atmosphere of intrigue and mystery; every development that occurred seemed to thicken it. . . . It puzzled him, being still a stranger to the habits and customs of these people, to see that life in Hathelsborough went on, amidst all these alarums and excursions.

Rice is a tropical plant; yet Carolina and Georgia grow the finest in the world; heavier grained, better filled, and more merchantable, than any imported into Europe from the Indies.

To this extenuated spectre, perhaps, a crumb is not thrown once a year, but when ahungered and athirst to famine—when all humanity has forgotten the dying tenant of a decaying house—Divine Mercy remembers the mourner […]

[V]eterans attribute a lack of money and the consequent need to rely heavily on volunteers in scheduling and the poor advance work for the candidate's appearances. Some Democratic politicians have described the problem as a case of “too many chiefs and not enough Indians.”