John Claverhouse was a
moon-faced man.And so I with John Claverhouse. I even used to laugh myself--before I met John Claverhouse.It
made positively no impression on John Claverhouse. His laugh was as hearty and frequent as ever, and his
face as much like the full
moon as it always had been.Claverhouse! Merciful heaven, WHY Claverhouse? I should not have minded Smith, or Brown, or Jones--but CLAVERHOUSE! I did not appear but through this agent I forced the foreclosure, and but few days (no more, believe me, than the law allowed) were given John Claverhouse to remove his goods and chattels from the premises. Now, I pride myself on doing things neatly, and when I resolved to kill John Claverhouse I had it in mind to do so in such fashion that I should not look back upon it and feel ashamed. So, to shoot, or stab, or club John Claverhouse (oh, that name!) did not appeal to me.After that, at the first casual opportunity, I presented Bellona to John Claverhouse. Ere many minutes had passed, John Claverhouse came plodding up the bed of the stream. Claverhouse yelled at her, but without avail.And around and around, up and down and across the stones, raced Claverhouse and Bellona.and that is why I pride myself on the neat and artistic way in which I finished off John Claverhouse.