Two hundred years ago there lived in Boston a little boy whose name was Benjamin Franklin.
Mr. Endicott told me about the great ships that came sailing by from Boston, bound for Europe.
Could that Boston newspaper woman possibly be correct?
I will go to Boston in June and I will buy father gloves, and James nice collar, and Simpson cuffs.
Martha is a trauma nurse in a large Boston hospital.
I found Boston is an expensive place to live.
Boston was a tad rowdy back then and we were kind of young and frisky ourselves.
Outside of Boston, in Peabody.
He's only here until Sunday night when we drop him off in Boston for his flight back to the west coast.
The LeBlanc's house is a tiny cape cod, on a dead end street in south Peabody, a Boston bedroom community.
I encouraged him to enroll at nearby Boston University in hopes he'd find an interest.
It came from Boston, a few hundred miles away; sort of like the tip you just made.
The LeBlanc's had picked up Howie at his Boston apartment so the car was packed tightly.
She flew directly to Boston on Friday and I met her at Logan Airport at six.
I'll miss my class in Boston but maybe I won't get lost someplace smaller.
"It was bound to happen," I said as I passed the Boston paper to the others as they joined us.
Three calls were telephoned from Boston, New York and Connecticut while two were made on untraceable phones.
"Our Boston newspaper friend Ethel Reagan writes she's anxious to talk to the guy," she continued.
The next day, Ethel Reagan reported in her Boston paper on a personal interview with Youngblood.
Julie from Boston reentered the picture bright one Monday morning when she accompanied Howie into the office.
Boston is great but it's incredibly busy all the time.
The article was penned by our old Boston nemesis, Ethel Reagan.
Warning that Boston woman sounds prudent, though I'm not sure she has a clue to finding the so-called Psychic tipster.
Other than catching sight of Howie, together with Julie and Molly entering church on Sunday morning, we saw nothing more of our associate's Boston visitors.
It was midafternoon before we got Howie on the road, first to Boston and then a flight west.
I looked forward to weekends when he'd come back down to Boston and we'd get together.
Can you go down to Boston and get her on a plane out here?
She'll drive Howie's car back to Boston and leave the car at the airport and fly out this evening.
I owed a follow up call to both Ethel Reagan at the Boston newspaper and Agnes Delanco, at After.
I questioned the newspaper woman in Boston, by telephone, in hopes of enticing her to meet with me under the guise of my writing a magazine article.
She kissed and hugged her daughter until I thought I'd have to pull them apart, but finally left in Howie's car for Boston and her flight.
I jumped in and explained that Molly was at our house and Julie was on route to the Boston airport.
"Or Boston," I said.
I used the break in at Ethel Reagan's place as an excuse to have Howie visit both Boston burglaries.
Then this newspaper lady in Boston gave her an out and she jumped on it like Roy Rogers on Trigger.
There's an afternoon Amtrak train that makes the trip from South Station in Boston to Philly in less than five hours.
I parked our car here, at the East Boston airport, as we were scheduled to return together by air.
More depressing news filled the paper; a drive-by shooting in Dorchester, a knifing at a Boston bus stop and a baby abandoned in a rest room at Logan Airport.
A blue haired old lady with a walker and her mate hauling an oxygen tank looked at me as If I was the Boston strangler.
God love him—he had followed the Boston Red Sox for sixty years and couldn't even dream of ever being there himself.
When I was twelve I hitchhiked from Boston to Birmingham.
The letters, eleven in all, were not from Ouray, but to a Ouray minister's wife, from her sister, a Boston matron.
He paused, letting his pronouncement sink in and then added, There's a couple of ladies from Boston who are shopping for airplane tickets as we sit here.
Two ladies are flying all the way from Boston to buy some old underwear, a yellow dress and a bunch of junk?
"I just hope these Boston ladies don't think this box of yours has some truly valuable items in it," Cynthia said.
The second earliest dated letter expressed sorrow that the wedding could not take place in Boston and a gift was being shipped separately.
I was telling Mrs. Edith about these here letters and how the two ladies from Boston will be coming to Bird Song.
Her sister in Boston wasn't very talkative.
I hope the Boston sisters find some use for these awful things.
Didn't the Boston ladies have any interest in the other items you're donating to the museum?
The letters written from Boston are answering correspondence Annie presumably wrote to her sister.
Them Boston ladies would have said if they knew any cousins.
And I need to be top-alert today, with all the research stuff I have to do before them Boston ladies get here.
Cynthia had received a phone call from the Boston sisters telling her their flight was delayed and they weren't now expected until late afternoon.
Where are your gullible buyers?
"That ought to please your Boston ladies, seeing a picture of their great-aunt and uncle," Cynthia remarked as she examined the picture.
I just said I wasn't sharing anything with that Boston shrew, I didn't say I was quitting the caper.
"You could wait until they return to Boston and then mail it to them," Dean suggested.
Did the Boston sisters get all the poop on Annie before you got there?
Then he wrote her sister Rachael in Boston affirming her lies.
What do you suppose caused her to leave a cultured and safe life in Boston and come west?
Boston is now a great city, but at that time it was only a little town.
If the people of Boston must fight for their liberty, we will help them.
One day a friend of his who lived in Boston came to see him.
When the Revolutionary War began he was one of the first to hurry to Boston to help the people defend themselves against the British soldiers.
The next important event in my life was my visit to Boston, in May, 1888.
When the train at last pulled into the station at Boston it was as if a beautiful fairy tale had come true.
I could not quite convince myself that there was much world left, for I regarded Boston as the beginning and the end of creation.
While we were in Boston we visited Bunker Hill, and there I had my first lesson in history.
Among the many friends I made in Boston were Mr. William Endicott and his daughter.
I saw him many times after that, and he was always a good friend to me; indeed, I was thinking of him when I called Boston "the City of Kind Hearts."
After my first visit to Boston, I spent almost every winter in the North.
Mr. John P. Spaulding, of Boston, died in February, 1896.
It was during my first visit to Boston that I really began to read in good earnest.
Then my teacher went to visit some friends in Boston, leaving me for a short time.
Once while I was calling on him in Boston he acted the most striking parts of "The Rivals" for me.
Elsie Leslie, the little actress, was in Boston, and Miss Sullivan took me to see her in "The Prince and the Pauper."
I am coming to Boston in June to see little blind girls and I will come to see you.
We will go to Boston in June.
On May 26th they arrived in Boston and went to the Perkins Institution; here Helen met the little blind girls with whom she had corresponded the year before.
We came to Boston last Thursday, and Mr. Anagnos was delighted to see me, and he hugged and kissed me.
West Newton is not far from Boston and we went there in the steam cars very quickly.
It made me feel very sad to leave Boston and I missed all of my friends greatly, but of course I was glad to get back to my lovely home once more.
I am studying in Boston, with my dear teacher.
If my little sister comes to Boston next June, will you let me bring her to see you?
I was very, very sad to part with all of my friends in Boston, but I was so eager to see my baby sister I could hardly wait for the train to take me home.
Mildred has grown much taller and stronger than she was when I went to Boston, and she is the sweetest and dearest little child in the world.
I should like very much to see you to-day Is the sun very hot in Boston now? this afternoon if it is cool enough I shall take Mildred for a ride on my donkey.
Some time when you come and see me in my study in Boston I shall be glad to talk to you about it all if you care to hear.
You will come back to Boston I hope soon after I do.
She wanted him brought to Boston, and when she was told that money would be needed to get him a teacher, she answered, "We will raise it."
If you do come, you will want to ask the kind people of Boston to help brighten Tommy's whole life.
This letter is to the editor of the Boston Herald, enclosing a complete list of the subscribers.
PHILLIPS BROOKS South Boston, June 8, 1891.
TO MISS CAROLINE DERBY South Boston, May 9, 1892.
TO MR. JOHN P. SPAULDING South Boston, May 11th, 1892.
Before I left Boston, I was asked to write a sketch of my life for the Youth's Companion.
I often think of the pleasant time we had all together in Boston last spring.
I do try to think that he is still near, very near; but sometimes the thought that he is not here, that I shall not see him when I go to Boston,--that he is gone,--rushes over my soul like a great wave of sorrow.
TO MRS. KATE ADAMS KELLER South Boston, April 13, 1893. ...Teacher, Mrs. Pratt and I very unexpectedly decided to take a journey with dear Dr. Bell Mr. Westervelt, a gentleman whom father met in Washington, has a school for the deaf in Rochester.
Only a few of my kind friends in Boston know anything about the library.
We spent about three weeks in Boston, after leaving New York, and I need not tell you we had a most delightful time.
I think you remember Mr. Chamberlin, the "Listener" in the Boston Transcript.
TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON 12 Newbury Street, Boston, October 23, 1898.
TO MRS. WILLIAM THAW Boston, December 6th, 1898.
TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON 12 Newbury Street, Boston, January 17, 1899. ...Have you seen Kipling's "Dreaming True," or "Kitchener's School?"
TO MR. JOHN HITZ 12 Newbury Street, Boston, February 3, 1899. ...I had an exceedingly interesting experience last Monday.
A kind friend took me over in the morning to the Boston Art Museum.
TO MR. WILLIAM WADE Boston, February 19th, 1899.
TO MRS. LAURENCE HUTTON [Boston] May 28th . ...We have had a hard day.
TO DR. EDWARD EVERETT HALE [Read by Dr. Hale at the celebration of the centenary of Dr. Samuel Gridley Howe, at Tremont Temple, Boston, Nov. 11, 1901.] Cambridge, Nov. 10, 1901.
When she was at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston she stood on a step-ladder and let both hands play over the statues.
Dr. Samuel Gridley Howe was born in Boston, November 10, 1801, and died in Boston, January 9, 1876.
As head of the Perkins Institution for the Blind in Boston, he heard of Laura Bridgman and had her brought to the Institution on October 4, 1837.
When she first wrote from Tuscumbia to Mr. Michael Anagnos, Dr. Howes son-in-law and his successor as Director of the Perkins Institution, about her work with her pupil, the Boston papers began at once to publish exaggerated accounts of Helen Keller.
--sent me a Boston Herald containing a stupid article about Helen.
There were several prominent Boston physicians among them.
But as she was not able to find her copy, and applications for the volume at bookstores in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Albany, and other places resulted only in failure, search was instituted for the author herself.
BOSTON, March 11, 1892.
On Miss Sullivan's return to Brewster, she read to Helen the story of "Little Lord Fauntleroy," which she had purchased in Boston for the purpose.
No doubt, many of my townsmen have met me returning from this enterprise, farmers starting for Boston in the twilight, or woodchoppers going to their work.
They are but improved means to an unimproved end, an end which it was already but too easy to arrive at; as railroads lead to Boston or New York.
When I was four years old, as I well remember, I was brought from Boston to this my native town, through these very woods and this field, to the pond.
This generation inclines a little to congratulate itself on being the last of an illustrious line; and in Boston and London and Paris and Rome, thinking of its long descent, it speaks of its progress in art and science and literature with satisfaction.
His favorite occupation when not playing boston, a card game he was very fond of, was that of listener, especially when he succeeded in setting two loquacious talkers at one another.
The card tables were drawn out, sets made up for boston, and the count's visitors settled themselves, some in the two drawing rooms, some in the sitting room, some in the library.
Pierre, as one of the principal guests, had to sit down to boston with Count Rostov, the general, and the colonel.
There was still the hunting establishment which Nicholas had enlarged.
On all these faces, as on the faces of the crowd Petya had seen in the Square, there was a striking contradiction: the general expectation of a solemn event, and at the same time the everyday interests in a boston card party, Peter the cook, Zinaida Dmitrievna's health, and so on.
The crowd drew up to the large table, at which sat gray-haired or bald seventy-year-old magnates, uniformed and besashed almost all of whom Pierre had seen in their own homes with their buffoons, or playing boston at the clubs.
He then left for Boston and a flight that would arrive a few hours after Julie's.
It was a Boston and I searched through it, searching to see if Ethel Reagan was still tracking the Psychic Tipster.