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I want a monument bigger'n Dave Broderick's, with an eppytaph in gilt letters, by Joaquin Miller. I can't git into any kind o' society till I have 'em. You've no idee how exclusive they are where I am." This dutiful son laid down his pencil and effected a stiffly vertical attitude. He was all attention: "Anything else to-day?" he asked-rather sneeringly, I grieve to state.
Broderick and Terry belonged to different factions of the growing Republican party, each struggling for control in California. Broderick was strongly anti-slavery, and his opponents wanted him removed. Terry was defeated in his campaign for reflection largely, as he supposed, through Broderick's efforts. The two men had been good friends previously.
It should be further noted that in this last campaign of Broderick's life the pro-slavery Democracy swept the State, its candidate for Governor being elected by a vote nearly twice the combined vote of the Douglas and Republican candidates: And, also, that a year after Broderick's death Abraham Lincoln polled only twenty-eight per cent of the popular vote in California for President of the United States.
Germaine, although poor Jack Martin has hardly been dead a year. She is Mrs. Broderick's exact opposite. Please do not misunderstand me in this tiresome way," and here Mrs. Tolman frowned slightly. "It is the manner in which Mrs. Broderick speaks of her husband that offends my tastes.
Crawford and Rupert did not fail to carry out Captain Broderick's directions; and Percy, who was rapidly recovering his strength, was soon able to assist them.
"I'll trot along tonight, Henry. But not," the cool voice carelessly, "until I've had something to eat. I know you're going to ask me to stay to supper!" "What do you want to stay for, Ben?" demanded Pollard with something of irritation in the question. "Haven't you got enough on your hands...." Broderick's ready laugh, slow, easy, vaguely insolent, rose clearly to Winifred's ears.
I know so well what Marcus feels; he is ready to go out into the roads and break stones if he can only keep a roof over his wife's head." And there were tears in Madge Broderick's eyes as she took up her work. "I at least will do my duty." Caesar. Young Mrs.
Thornton's eyes were for Ben Broderick alone. And, it would seem, Broderick's for Thornton. But in their expressions there was nothing of similarity; in Thornton's was a stern readiness to mete out punishment while from Broderick's there looked forth a sudden furtiveness, a feverish desire for escape. Broderick had never drawn to himself the epithet of coward.
On the following day he chanced again upon Richardson, who, to Broderick's astonishment, still brooded over Cora's "impudent remark." He did not seem to know just what it was, but the offensive flavor of it lingered. "Wonder where he is?" he kept repeating. "Deserves to be thrashed. Confound his impertinence. May do it yet." He was drinking. Broderick glanced apprehensively about.
"If we do not, then the cause lies on Lone Mountain," says Valois, pointing westward toward the spot where a tall shaft already bears Broderick's name. Hardin nods assent. "It was terrific, that appeal of Baker's," he murmurs. Neither could foresee the career of the eulogist of Broderick, after his last matchless appeals to an awakening North.
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