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Updated: May 5, 2025
She did not hasten her steps, nor did she soon turn back toward the field hospital. She saw a cottage half hidden behind a hedge of evergreens. It stood in a small square of muddy garden. There was a figure at work in this patch the tall, stoop-shouldered figure of a man. He was digging parsnips that had been left out for the frost to sweeten. He used the mattock slowly and methodically.
The company in question was composed of eight persons, five of whom were Indians of the Seneca tribe; the others a thin-faced, gaunt, stoop-shouldered man past the middle age a rather corpulent, masculine looking woman, a few years his junior a little fair-haired, blue-eyed, pretty-faced girl of six were white captives.
Over across the table, Carlotta was talking vivaciously to a pasty-visaged, narrow-chested, stoop-shouldered youth who scarcely opened his mouth except to consume food, but whose eyes drank in every movement of Carlotta's. One saw at a glance he was another of that spoiled little coquette's many victims. Tony asked Hal who he was.
Between their skin and their bones there seemed to be little or no flesh, and they were mostly stoop-shouldered and weary looking, even to the little children.
He was a medium-sized, rather stoop-shouldered little gentleman, decidedly commonplace-looking, with a closely-trimmed brown beard turning grey, and rosy cheeks such as all Englishmen have. He was escorted by the head of the hospital staff; and behind him came a lady, a severe-looking lady dressed in black, with a couple more doctors escorting her, and behind them several officers in uniform.
For some months he carried with him a young man whom he called a secretary and paid a large salary for his ability to tell stories and sing clever songs, only to discharge him suddenly for telling a foul tale that reminded Sam of another tale told by the stoop-shouldered old man in the office of Ed's hotel in the Illinois town.
Jack went down alone, and found waiting for him a grizzly, heavily- bearded man, rather stoop-shouldered. He glanced from under his shaggy eyebrows at Jack. "You left a message for Enos Hardy?" the man asked. "I did, in reference to Orion Tevis," admitted Jack. "Have you the emblems?" Jack showed the rings and card. "Um!" grunted the man. "What do you want?"
At which Vincent tints up embarrassed. "He said he wished to talk to a young fellow known as Torchy, Sir," says he. "Almost a description of me, ain't it?" says I. "Well, tow him in, Vincent, until I see if his map's any more familiar than his name." It wa'n't. He's a middle-aged gent, kind of tall and stoop-shouldered, with curly hair that's started to frost up above the ears.
We overheard, because Manton's voice carried across to us in the stillness. "Kauf!" The name I remembered as that of the technical, or art, director under Werner, responsible for the sets of "The Black Terror." "Yes, Mr. Manton!" Kauf was a slim, stoop-shouldered man, gray, and a dynamo of energy in a quiet, subservient way. He ran to Manton's side.
Two score ugly old women, wrinkled and blear-eyed, and with tangled hair hanging over their faces, every one a match for Macbeth's witches, and with them a number of old men stoop-shouldered, and of wizard aspect, each a very Caliban. Even the boys and girls have an impish, unearthly look, like the dwarfs that figure on the stage in a Christmas pantomime.
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