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Calhoun was no less ready to do all he could. Early in March, 1850, the white-haired man, now in his sixty-eighth year and, like Clay, struggling with illness, went to the Senate Chamber, swathed in flannels, to make his last appeal in behalf of the slaveholders.
He had a large, almost lipless, mouth, extraordinary lank arms, long thin feet, and bow-legs, and stood with his heavy face thrust forward staring at us. He was dressed like Montgomery and his white-haired companion, in jacket and trousers of blue serge. As we came still nearer, this individual began to run to and fro on the beach, making the most grotesque movements.
"Yes, and learn it yourself. It will come in handy some day, when Tyrrel and you are getting white-haired and handsome, as everyone ought to get when they have passed their half-century and are facing the light of the heavenly world: "At sixty-two life has begun; At seventy-three begins once more; Fly swifter as thou near'st the sun, And brighter shine at eighty-four.
The picture carried no explanation. And now Robert Fairchild stood on the threshold of something he almost feared to learn. Once, on a black, stormy night, they had sat together, father and son before the fire, silent for hours. Then the hand of the white-haired man had reached outward and rested for a moment on the young man's knee. "I wrote something to you, Boy, a day or so ago," he had said.
A young native was going to Norfolk Island, and he took leave of his family and the chief in a manly way which was touching to witness. He bowed and laid his face on the knees of some old white-haired men with finely chiselled, noble faces. They seemed to bless him, then they raised his head and tenderly pressed their faces against his, so that their noses touched.
When at last she was alongside, a solitary, white-haired old man climbed with much difficulty over our rail. "Good-day. What's the trouble? We are in a hurry." The old man most courteously doffed his cap, and stood holding it in his hand. "I wanted to ask you, Doctor," he said slowly, "if you had any books which you could lend me. We can't get anything to read here."
True, she is as old as Ulpian's mother was when father married her; but then Mrs. Grey was not at all in love with her white-haired husband, and had set her affections solely on that Mercer-Street house, with marble steps and plate-glass windows. How do I know that, after all, Salome is not in love with Ulpian's fortune instead of the dear boy's blue eyes, and handsome hair, and splendid teeth?
There was mingled amazement, consternation and embarrassment in the question. The white-haired pianist swung round on his stool, and the old man with the violin raised his head and regarded the unexpected visitor out of two mildly inquiring blue eyes. "I'm sorry," began Marjorie, her cheeks hot with the shame of being unwelcome. "I suppose I ought not to have come, but "
"You're dead swell, but the last time I saw you, you were covered with mud, carrying a stern line ashore in the Welland Canal." I took stock of him. He was white-haired, but had the keen, intelligent face of a man of forty-five who had not yet given up the fight; a lively, hopeful face, one that comes to those who win oftener than lose.
Vavasour was a big, white-haired man, many years older than his wife, who had married him when she was only seventeen; he was a clever man, and a popular doctor, and having just come in from a twenty miles' drive through March winds and rain, was standing with his back to the mantelpiece, with an air of having thoroughly earned warmth and repose. He was discussing parish matters with Mr.
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