On Rugg's declining to stop, Mr. Cutter urged him vehemently.
This, sir, is all that I could learn of Peter Rugg in Boston....
It was evident that the generation to which Peter Rugg belonged had passed away.
And thus Peter Rugg and his child, horse and carriage, remain a mystery to this day."
Her narration is this: The last summer a person, just at twilight, stopped at the door of the late Mrs. Rugg.
"Peter Rugg!" said I, "and who is Peter Rugg?" "That," said the stranger, "is more than anyone can tell exactly.
The stranger asked for Mrs. Rugg, and was informed that Mrs. Rugg had died, at a good old age, more than twenty years before that time.
If Peter Rugg, thought I, has been travelling since the Boston Massacre, there is no reason why he should not travel to the end of time.
In the course of the evening I related my adventure in Middle Street. "Ha!" said one of the company, smiling, "do you really think you have seen Peter Rugg?