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One was forced to acknowledge her perfection in the part she had chosen as the arbitress of social honours. The candidates were rapidly increasing; almost every month, it seemed, someone turned up with a fortune and the aspirations that go with it, and it was Mrs. Durrett who decided the delicate question of fitness.
I felt that I needed her as I never had needed anyone in all my life.... I was aroused by the sound of lowered voices beside me. "That's Mrs. Hambleton Durrett," I heard a woman say. "Isn't she beautiful?" The note of envy struck me sharply horribly.
If you do not know it, I tell you." Next, Nancy was introduced. "So you are Mrs. Hambleton Durrett?" Nancy acknowledged her identity with a smile, but the next remark was a bombshell. "The leader of society." "Alas!" exclaimed Nancy, "I have been accused of many terrible things." Their glances met. Nancy's was amused, baffling, like a spark in amber. Each, in its way, was redoubtable.
They all called him "Robert," and they made it clear by their manner that they knew they were addressing one who fulfilled his obligations and asked no favours. Crusty old Nathaniel Durrett once declared that when you bought a bill of goods from Robert Breck you did not have to check up the invoice or employ a chemist. Here was a character to mould upon.
The march was hard, for it rained so incessantly that it was difficult to keep the rifles dry. Every night they encamped in a hollow square, with the baggage and horses in the middle. Chillicothe, when reached, was found to be deserted. In the Durrett MSS. at Louisville. The account of the death of Joseph Rogers.
The men began to arrange themselves in congenial "messes" and to build pole cabins with fire places of sticks and mud plaster, and "bunks." At the camp a lot of boxes of provisions and clothing arrived in charge of Mrs. Jane Durrett from Tuscaloosa for different Tuscaloosa boys.
The morning of his departure, glancing through the personals a suspicious act, as it was rather unusual for him he read of his departure after a brief visit, and at the head of the column that Mr. and Mrs. Harrison Durrett announced the engagement of their daughter, Dorothy, to Mr. Howard Bradford, of Pittsburgh.
A sea story that my Cousin Donald Ewan gave me at Christmas inspired me to compose one of a somewhat different nature; incidentally, I deemed it a vast improvement on Cousin Donald's book. Now, if I only had a boat, with the assistance of Ham Durrett and Tom Peters, Gene Hollister and Perry Blackwood and other friends, this story of mine might be staged.
To what depths of despair they reduced me they never knew, and yet they were doing it all for my good! They only managed to convince me that my love of folly was ineradicable, and that I was on my way head first for perdition. I always looked, during these excruciating and personal moments, at the coloured glass bottle. "It grieves me to hear it, Hugh," Mr. Durrett invariably declared.
I was to take his word for it that the country would go to the dogs if the Democrats got in and the Tariff were taken away. Here, in a nutshell, though neither he nor I realized it, was the political instruction of the marching hordes. Theirs not to reason why. I was too young, they too ignorant. Such is the method of Authority! The steel-mills of Mr. Durrett and Mr.
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