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The principal speaker was the secretary of the interior, Lucius Q. C. Lamar, who afterwards became United States senator and justice of the Supreme Court. Mr. Lamar was one of the ablest and most cultured men in public life, and a fine orator.
Moreover, his relations to the Claibornes were in an ugly tangle: Chauvenet had dealt him a telling blow in a quarter where he particularly wished to appear to advantage. He jumped out of the day coach in which he had accomplished the last stage of his journey to Lamar, just at dawn, and found Oscar with two horses waiting. "Good morning," said Oscar, saluting.
That self-hire may often have led to self-purchase is suggested by an illuminating letter of Billy Procter, a slave at Americus, Georgia, in 1854 to Colonel John B. Lamar of whom something has been seen in a foregoing chapter. The letter, presumably in the slave's own hand, runs as follows: "As my owner, Mr.
The next moment, rising on tiptoe to look over the intervening shoulders, I found myself looking into the white face of my younger brother Harry. "Paul!" he exclaimed, turning quickly away. I pushed my way through and stood at his side. There was no sound from the group of onlookers; it is not to be wondered at if they hesitated to offend Paul Lamar.
He really believed that cotton was king and would compel England to espouse the cause of the South. Despite his wealth of experience and travel he was not overmuch of a raconteur, but he once told me a good story about his friend Thackeray. The two were driving to a banquet of the Literary Fund, where Dickens was to preside. "Lamar," said Thackeray, "they say I can't speak.
"Now, Raymond Lamar! if you talk so, you sha'n't read the letter!" "I don't want to read it." "Have you left off loving Beltran, because he differs from you?" "Left off loving Beltran!" Vivia waited a moment, leaning on the back of his chair, and then Ray, bending, covered his face with his hands, and the large tears oozed from between his brown fingers.
I had hoped he would talk further of the probabilities of the connection of the various people with the crime, but he had no comment even upon the admission of Enid that she had known Millard for a period long antedating the trouble with Stella Lamar. It seemed that, after all, he was quite excited at the discovery of the ampulla and was anxious to begin the analysis of its scale-like contents.
"As he hath done unto My people, be it done unto him!" he muttered, but the words did not comfort him. Lamar moved, half-smiling. "That's right, Floy. What is it she says? 'Now I lay me down' I forget. Good night. Kiss me, Floy." He waited, looked up uneasily. Dorr looked at his wife: she stooped, and kissed his lips.
As a consequence, the President, Lamar, was banished from his country, and a new official, Gamarra, was elected as provisional President. The first war, however, did not succeed in clearing the battle-laden air, and for some while Peru was destined to suffer considerably at the hands of its neighbours. Very shortly after the conclusion of the first war a second broke out between Bolivia and Peru.
"Look at Ruth, yonder," said Dorr, his face lighting. "She is coming to meet us. She thought you would be with me." Lamar looked gravely down at the low field-house and the figure at the gate. He thought he could see the small face and earnest eyes, though it was far off, and night was closing. "She is waiting for you, Charley. Go down. Good night, old chum!"
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