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The late Librarian Winsor said that he considered the librarian's instruction far more valuable than that of the specialist. And this may be owing largely to the point of view, as well as to the training, of each.
BIBLIOGRAPHIES. Justin Winsor, Handbook of the Revolution, 1-25, and Narrative and Critical History, VI. 62-112; W. E. Foster, Monthly Reference Lists, No. 79; Channing and Hart, Guide, secs. 134-136. GENERAL ACCOUNTS. R. Frothingham, Rise of the Republic, 158-401; E. Channing, United States, 1765-1865, ch. ii.; Geo.
"Have you ever seen that fellow before?" demanded Ray, of brown-eyed Sergeant Winsor, who had spent a lifetime on the plains, but Winsor was plainly puzzled. "I can't say for the life of me, sir," was the answer. "I don't know him at all and yet " "Whoever he is, by Jove," said Ray, "he's a bigger man this day than Stabber, for he's winning the fight.
Ray, after a few words to Sergeant Winsor, crawled over beside his silent and absorbed young second in command, and, bringing his glasses to bear, gazed across a low parapet of sand long and fixedly at the turbulent throng a thousand yards away. "It's easy to make out Stabber," he presently spoke. "One can almost hear that foghorn voice of his.
From an article by Mr. Winsor in "The Narrative and Critical History of America," of which he was editor. By arrangement with the publishers, Houghton, Mifflin Co., Copyright 1889. For a long period Mr. Winsor was librarian of Harvard University. He wrote "From Cartier to Frontenac," "Christopher Columbus," "The Mississippi Basin," and made other important contributions to American history.
And when a piece of fish of unknown origin was slipped through the tiny opening in the cell door, and a specimen carefully preserved for Dr. Wiley-who, by the way, was unable to classify it-they were more diverted than outraged. Sometimes it was a "prayer" which enlivened the evening hour before bedtime. Mary Winsor of Haverford, Pennsylvania, was the master prayer-maker.
"You're right, sergeant," he presently spoke, repressing the desire to shout, and striving, lest Winsor should be moved to invidious comparisons, to seem as nonchalant as Billy Ray himself. "They're coming back already." Then down the mountain side he dove to plan and prepare appropriate welcome, leaving Winsor and the glasses to keep double powered watch on the situation.
"Send six of your men over to the south front, sergeant," were Ray's orders to Winsor, as he hurried over to join Clayton again. "They may try one final charge from that side, and give us a chance to empty a few more saddles." Creeping and crouching through the timber the chosen men obeyed, and were assigned to stations under Clayton's eye.
He wanted to make poverty inexcusable. Yet he realized that there were cases where age and disease had sapped the person's powers, and to such he gave by stealth, or through friends whom he loved and trusted. Mrs. W. P. Winsor, of Fairhaven, for instance, worked days and months overtime on the bidding of Mr.
Winsor also read a paper in which he referred to a statement which had appeared in several popular histories, that, during the eight years of the Revolutionary War, the thirteen colonies sent two hundred and thirty-two thousand men to the Continental army. He traced the origin of this extravagant statement.
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