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Kennedy Square
F. Hopkinson Smith

Page 1 of 668


KENNEDY SQUARE 

CHAPTER I 

On the precise day on which this story opens--some sixty or more years
ago, to be exact--a bullet-headed, merry-eyed, mahogany-colored young
darky stood on the top step of an old-fashioned, high-stoop house,
craning his head up and down and across Kennedy Square in the effort to
get the first glimpse of his master, St.  George Wilmot Temple, attorney
and counsellor-at-law, who was expected home from a ducking trip down
the bay. 

Whether it was the need of this very diet, or whether St.  George had
felt a sudden longing for the out-of-doors, is a matter of doubt, but
certain it is that some weeks before the very best shot in the county
had betaken himself to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, accompanied by his
guns, his four dogs, and two or three choice men of fashion--young
bloods of the time--men with whom we shall become better acquainted as
these chronicles go on--there to search for the toothsome and elusive

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