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Randlett, as he prayed unctuously in front of the flowers massed on the platform. I vaguely resented his laudatory references to my father. The old church, with its severity, had actually stood for something. It was the Westminster Catechism in wood and stone, and Dr.
Pound would have put the emphasis of the Everlasting into those words! Against what was Mr. Randlett protesting? My glance wandered to the pews which held the committees from various organizations, such as the Chamber of Commerce and the Bar Association, which had come to do honour to my father. And there, differentiated from the others, I saw the spruce, alert figure of Theodore Watling.
Randlett, as he prayed unctuously in front of the flowers massed on the platform. I vaguely resented his laudatory references to my father. The old church, with its severity, had actually stood for something. It was the Westminster Catechism in wood and stone, and Dr.
Pound would have put the emphasis of the Everlasting into those words! Against what was Mr. Randlett protesting? My glance wandered to the pews which held the committees from various organizations, such as the Chamber of Commerce and the Bar Association, which had come to do honour to my father. And there, differentiated from the others, I saw the spruce, alert figure of Theodore Watling.
Ask a man flat-footed if that wasn't a capital scout of Striker's last winter in the Tonto Basin, or if Jake Randlett hadn't done a daring thing in going all alone through the Sioux country to drum up Crow scouts for Crook's command, or what he thought of Billy Ray's cutting his way out through the Cheyennes to bring help to Wayne last June, and ten to one he'll hum and haw and say yes, he did hear something about that, and now that I mentioned it he believed Striker or Jake or Billy had really behaved quite creditably, but the whole tone was significant of nothing like what some other fellow I might mention, modesty only forbidding, would have done under similar circumstances. It's just the damnation of faint praise.
Randlett, as he prayed unctuously in front of the flowers massed on the platform. I vaguely resented his laudatory references to my father. The old church, with its severity, had actually stood for something. It was the Westminster Catechism in wood and stone, and Dr.
Pound would have put the emphasis of the Everlasting into those words! Against what was Mr. Randlett protesting? My glance wandered to the pews which held the committees from various organizations, such as the Chamber of Commerce and the Bar Association, which had come to do honour to my father. And there, differentiated from the others, I saw the spruce, alert figure of Theodore Watling.
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