Browsing named entities in C. Edwards Lester, Life and public services of Charles Sumner: Born Jan. 6, 1811. Died March 11, 1874.. You can also browse the collection for December 25th or search for December 25th in all documents.

Your search returned 2 results in 2 document sections:

C. Edwards Lester, Life and public services of Charles Sumner: Born Jan. 6, 1811. Died March 11, 1874., Section Eleventh: his death, and public honors to his memory. (search)
ar to his memory; but our honored Mayor was kind enough to bring me forth to show you the fruits of his labor. I can go back to the time when I sat under the eagle in this hall and when I saw some one stand on this platform, and I did wish when I heard certain expressions that I could sink. I can go back to my boyhood, when I have seen other boys in their sports and plays, and I would walk off in the woods and say, Oh God, why was I born. I can remember forty-five years ago, on a Christmas Day, passing through the orchard and saw a silk-worm hanging to the leaf of a tree, when my eyes turned up to my God, and I said, Why am I here? There hangs something out of the cold, but it will be a butterfly. I took it home, hung it in the room, put it where it was warm, and it hatched out before the atmosphere was prepared to receive it. I lifted the window and it flew off, but had to return, as it could not stand the atmosphere. And just so was I brought forth by the eloquence of Cha
ar to his memory; but our honored Mayor was kind enough to bring me forth to show you the fruits of his labor. I can go back to the time when I sat under the eagle in this hall and when I saw some one stand on this platform, and I did wish when I heard certain expressions that I could sink. I can go back to my boyhood, when I have seen other boys in their sports and plays, and I would walk off in the woods and say, Oh God, why was I born. I can remember forty-five years ago, on a Christmas Day, passing through the orchard and saw a silk-worm hanging to the leaf of a tree, when my eyes turned up to my God, and I said, Why am I here? There hangs something out of the cold, but it will be a butterfly. I took it home, hung it in the room, put it where it was warm, and it hatched out before the atmosphere was prepared to receive it. I lifted the window and it flew off, but had to return, as it could not stand the atmosphere. And just so was I brought forth by the eloquence of Cha