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Farragut's letter, written from the Hartford above Port Hudson on the 6th of April, was the first communication Banks had received from Farragut, save a brief verbal message brought to him by the Admiral's secretary, Mr. E. C. Gabaudan, on the 10th of April, just before the army set out from Brashear. Mr.
Banneker is a gentleman," she said. "Gentleman" from Mrs. Brashear, with that intonation, meant one who, out of or in a job, paid his room rent. The new lodger had earned the title by paying his month in advance. Having settled that point, she withdrew, followed by the two other women. Lambert, taking a floppy hat from the walnut rack in the hall, went his way, leaving young Wickert and Mr.
And he rushed at his powerful, stupid son and began to strike him in the face with his one good fist, shrieking, "Shut up, you damn fool! Shut up!" Dragging Etta and pushing Mrs. Brashear, Susan moved toward the end of the hall where the fire escape passed their windows.
We soon shall meet, with vernal youth restored, to endure forever. There was another, Walter Brashear, our intimate friend for long years. He went to eternity after a pilgrimage of eighty-eight years in the sunshine and shadows of this miserable world. He was a native of the city of Philadelphia, but with his parents went to Kentucky, when a boy.
Altogether, the Brashears were in excellent shape for a tenement family, were better off than upwards of ninety per cent of the families of prosperous and typical Cincinnati. While it was true that old Tom Brashear drank, it was also true that he carefully limited himself to two dollars a week.
At first he was disposed to think that nothing remained but to retrace his steps over the whole toilsome way by Opelousas, the Teche, Brashear, New Orleans, and the Mississippi River to Baton Rouge, and thence to conduct a separate attack upon Port Hudson.
It is a simple illustration of the readiness of seeming solids to vibrate with almost infinite swiftness. I have been to-day in what is to me a kind of heaven below the workshop of my much-loved friend, John A. Brashear, in Allegheny, Pa. He easily makes and measures things to one four-hundred-thousandth of an inch of accuracy.
On the 23d of April the little Cornie arrived at Barré's Landing from the depot at Brashear, and the next day the first wagon-train came into camp laden with the supplies now sadly needed. At sight of the white-covered wagons winding over the plain, the men gave way to those demonstrations of delight so familiar to all who have ever seen soldiers rejoice.
She did not then realize that the apparent superior cleanness and neatness of the better-off classes was really in large part only affected, that their secluded back doors and back ways gave them opportunity to hide their uncivilized habits from the world that saw only the front. However, once inside the Brashear flat, she had an instant rise of spirits.
When they had approached within ten paces, Brashear stopped and said, "Are you ready?" Being answered in the affirmative, "Then fire, sir; I scorn to take the first fire." Dr. Tolls did so, and, missing him, stood and received Brashear's ball through both thighs, and fell.
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