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Updated: September 5, 2025
And then, before Eleanor could get to her feet, Quinby Graham came unsteadily toward her, stumbled twice, then pitched forward on his face, striking his head on the banister as he fell. Two weeks later, when Quin struggled back to consciousness, he labored under the delusion that he was still in the army and back in the camp hospital.
The sun was getting ready to set on Sunday afternoon when a tall, trim-looking figure turned the corner of the street leading to the Martels' and broke into a run. In one hand he carried a large suit-case, and in the other he held a bead chain wrapped in tissue-paper. In the breast pocket of his uniform was a paper stating that Quinby Graham was thereby honorably discharged from the U.S.A.
He was present, and acted bravely, in almost every affair of consequence, in the brigade of Marion. At Quinby, Capt. Baxter, already mentioned, a man distinguished by his great strength and courage, as well as size, and by equally great simplicity of character, cried out, "I am wounded, colonel!" "Think no more of it, Baxter," was the answer of Horry, "but stand to your post."
"My name is Graham," stammered Quin "Sergeant Quinby Graham; Battery C, Sixth Field Artillery. And yours?" She was fussing with the starter by this time, but she smiled up at him and shook her head. "I? Oh, I haven't any! I'm just an irresponsible young person who is going to gets fits for having stayed out so late. But it was worth it, wasn't it Sergeant Slim?"
Sixty-one of these were killed or wounded; twenty-one died upon the field. The returns exhibit a loss of one hundred and fourteen rank and file killed, three hundred wounded, and forty missing an aggregate exceeding a fourth of all who marched into battle. Many of Marion's men were killed, though not so many as he lost in the affair of Quinby. Among his officers, Capt.
So far from putting a stop to the talk, I had given it a regular fillip: here were Quinby and his friends as keen as possible to see what would happen next, if not betting on a row. The situation had taken a sudden turn for the worse. I forgot the pleasant hours that I had passed with Mrs. Lascelles, and began to wish myself well out of the whole affair.
"Who started it. You may well ask! Who starts anything in a place like this? Ah, good shot, Sir John, good shot!" "Never mind the good shots, Quinby. I really rather want to talk to you about this. I sha'n't keep you long." "Talk away, then. I am listening." "Mrs. Lascelles and I are rather friends." "So I can see." "Very well, then, I want to know who started all this.
"Even a porcupine likes to have its head scratched, and I think sometimes she's kind of hungry for somebody to cotton up to her a bit. Don't you think you might " "Who left that front door open?" broke in a harsh, peremptory voice from the landing. "I don't care who opened it I want it shut, and kept shut. Where's Quinby Graham? I thought you said he was waiting."
A horrible pause followed, during which the walls seemed to rock around him and he felt the blood surging to his head. He was starting up from the table when Miss Enid laid a quieting hand on his sleeve. "Of course you are to be invited, Quinby," she said in her suavest tones; "the invitation will reach you to-morrow."
Other diplomatic posts have been filled by Thomas W. Palmer, '49, Minister to Spain under Harrison, William E. Quinby, '58, Minister to Holland under Cleveland, Thomas J. O'Brien, '65l, Minister to Denmark and later Ambassador to Japan and Italy under Roosevelt and Taft, and William Graves Sharp, '81l, Ambassador to France under Wilson.
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