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Updated: June 10, 2025


The night before, in a wood hard by, the 17th Mississippi had run into a Federal brigade. The latter had fired, at point blank, a withering volley. Many a tall Mississippian had fallen. Now in the early light their fellow soldiers had gone seeking them in the wood, drawn them forth, and laid them in a row in the wet sedge beside the road. Nearly every man had been shot through the brain.

It was in the same jocose spirit with which he regarded Olive's view of the sort of standard a Mississippian should live up to that he talked to Verena about the lecture she was preparing for her great exhibition at the Music Hall. He learned from her that she was to take the field in the manner of Mrs. Farrinder, for a winter campaign, carrying with her a tremendous big gun.

"I'm Colonel Stoneman, an old soldier." The Mississippian stretched forth his hand. "My name is Langdon, sir Senator Langdon of Mississippi. I am an old soldier, too." "Delighted, Senator," exclaimed the seedy-looking old man, taking the offered hand gratefully. Langdon's easy method of making friends was well illustrated as he clapped his new companion on the back.

"Wa'al now, that's right kind of you," said Whitley. "I for one might take your advice, but I was froze up so much in them wild mountains an' plains of the northwest that I like to go south when the winter's comin' on. It's hot now, all right, but in two months the chilly blasts will be seekin' my marrow." "I was speakin' for your own good," said the Mississippian gravely.

He was a friend of Peabody's," laughed the lobbyist to the Mississippian. "But in this case," said Stevens, "we must be very careful. Possibly some of your methods in handling the men you go after " "Say," interposed Steinert, "you know I don't do all pursuin', all the goin' after, any more than others in my business.

"Miss Langdon is very beautiful and attractive, sir," said Haines, resuming with the Senator. "Yes," drawled the Mississippian. "Girls in the South generally are." "Well, I must be going. I'll think about your secretaryship, Senator Langdon. Perhaps I can find some one." "Wish you'd think about it for yourself," observed the Senator, while Hope Georgia again nodded approval.

Roscoe Conkling, tall and distinguished in appearance, was arm in arm with Aaron Sargent, the California printer; Bruce, the colored Mississippian, was with Conover, the Florida carpet-bagger; the fair Anglo-Saxon cheeks of Jones, of Nevada, contrasted strongly with the Indian features of General Logan, and finally along came Oliver P. Morton, of Indiana. President pro tem.

'Do you remember, the statesman, soldier and orator continued, 'a young and handsome Mississippian, a member of Congress, by the name of Lamar? She said she didn't." I rather think that Lamar was the biggest brained of all the men I have met in Washington. He possessed the courage of his convictions. A doctrinaire, there was nothing of the typical doctrinaire, or theorist, about him.

"Here we've put Langdon on naval affairs because we knew he didn't understand what's going on, and you, Stevens, supposed to be the finished, product of the political mill, you fall asleep and let him take up a man whom nobody can control, one who knows the inside workings of Washington and who will take par-tic-u-lar pleasure in teaching your fellow Mississippian far too much for our good."

"That makes it all the worse," replied Clara. "But they had to have colonels, you know." "Is Mr. Flagg a Virginian, or a Mississippian, or a Georgian?" "No, my dear; he was born in the State of Maine; but he has lived so long in the South that he's quite one of them for the present. We must make allowances for him, Clara. Did he say anything else?" "Oh, yes." "What did he say?"

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