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Whipple continued. "From time immemorial it has been the pleasant habit of old communities to be shocked at newer settlements, built by their own countrymen. Are you shocked, sir?" Stephen flushed. Fortunately the Judge did not give him time to answer. "Why didn't your mother let me know that she was coming?" "She didn't wish to put you to any trouble, sir."
The Judge shot out of his chair like a long jack-in-the box, and towered to his full height. "Mr. Brice, did you, or did you not, buy a woman at auction to-day?" "I did, sir." Mr. Whipple literally staggered. But Stephen caught a glimpse of the Colonel's hand slipping from his chin cover his mouth. "Good God, sir!" cried the Judge, and he sat down heavily. "You say that you are an Abolitionist?"
I want a practical proposition, sir," said Mr. Whipple, "one that we can use to-night. It is now one 'clock." As Stephen was silent, the Judge advised him to go to bed. And the next morning, while Mr.
The occasion of Mrs. Pett's reading of the article in the Sunday Chronicle descriptive of the Lord Percy Whipple affair had been unique in the little man's domestic history. For the first time since he had known her the indomitable woman had completely broken down.
"That's why he's took this scarlet rash of socialism and holy rolling that's going the rounds. Of course there are plenty that are holy rollers through and through, but not this boy. It's only a skin disease with him. I know him. Shut off his cream." "I said the same!" declared Sharon Whipple, feeling firm ground beneath his feet for the first time. "You said right!" approved Dave.
The tall man read it, and continued on his walk his head bent and his feet taking long strides, Later in the day he was met by a friend. "Abe," said the friend, "I'm almighty glad there somebody in this town's got notorious at last." In the early morning of their return from Chicago Judge Whipple and Stephen were standing in the front of a ferry-boat crossing the Mississippi.
So the Judge, laying his hand upon the knee of his friend, reminded him gravely. But the Colonel shook his head. The very calmness of their argument had been portentous. "No, Whipple," said he. "You are a straightforward man. You can't disguise it. You of the North are bent upon taking away from us the rights we had when our fathers framed the Constitution.
The day there would have been pleasant enough but for my wretched condition. The next morning we set out for Fort Whipple, making a long day's march, and arriving late in the evening. The wife of the Quartermaster, a total stranger to me, received us, and before we had time to exchange the usual social platitudes, she gave one look at the baby, and put an end to any such attempts.
It seemed as if the grunt this time had in it something of approval. Stephen had doubt as to the propriety of discussing Mr. Lincoln there, and he reddened. Virginia's expression bore a trace of defiance, and Mr. Carvel stood with his feet apart, thoughtfully stroking his goatee. But Mr. Whipple seemed to have no scruples. "So you admired Lincoln, Mr. Brice?" he went on.
He had visualized it as something that could be handed about. Later had come the disappointing realization that each Whipple had a complete nose at all times for his very own; that the phrase by which he had been misled denoted merely the possession of a certain build of nose by Whipples. But even this simple phenomenon offered some distraction from his present miseries.