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Updated: June 3, 2025
I have known fraternally several war correspondents Dick Davis, Fred Remington, John Fox, Caspar Whitney, and others and it seems to me that, while differing one from another as average men differ, they had in common a kind of veteran superiority to trivial surprise, a tolerant world wisdom that mere newspaper work in other departments does not bring.
"Did she say nothing to you and Minna when you were with her before the doctor arrived?" questioned Miss Kiametia, smothering her eagerness with difficulty. "Nothing that made sense." Whitney ran his fingers through his gray hair until it stood upright. "She babbled Spencer's name, alternating with the moaning cry, 'Kaiser blumen."
And as for Parson Whitney himself, the day and its fun had taken twenty years from his age. And nothing would answer but the deacon must go with him and help eat the New Year's pudding at the parsonage. And he did. At the table they laughed and talked over the funny incidents of the day and joked each other as merrily as two boys.
Are you still complaining of the cold, Aunt Jane?" she cried, in desperation, turning toward Mrs. Whitney. "I find it quite warm over here. Mr. Glover and I are still watching the freight train. Come over, do." Going back, Glover rode near to Gertrude, who had grown restless and imperious. To hunt this queer mountain-lion was recreation, but to have the mountain-lion hunt her was disquieting.
The pilots waddled out to their planes and climbed up. Ground crews moved back. They had serviced and checked the fighters and now their Pratt and Whitney twin bank radial engines were turning over smoothly. Exhausts flared blue flames which sent wavering shadows across the wet cement of the apron. Flight Officer Mickle was running about like an old hen with a scattered brood of chicks.
His work is pregnant with life and is thoroughly individual, so that you feel when you look upon his figures that you have met more than mere bronze or marble. His portraits are of a very high order, many of which can be seen in medal form in the Fine Arts Palace. He lives in New York, where he is well appreciated. Mrs. Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney Mrs.
Notable indeed is it that on the very day Watt obtained his first patent, January 5th, 1769, Arkwright got his spinning-frame patent. Only the year before Hargreaves obtained his patent for the spinning-jenny. These are the two inventors, with Whitney, the American inventor of the cotton-gin, from whose brains came the development of the textile industry in which Britain still stands foremost.
Whitney had now returned to New Haven to establish a gin factory, and Miller wrote him in 1794 urging prompt shipments and saying: "The people of the country are running mad for them, and much can be said to justify their importunity.
Occupying a prominent place were Ralph Mainwaring and his son, accompanied by Mr. Whitney, the sensitive face of the attorney more eager and alert than ever! At some distance from them, but seated rather conspicuously where she could command a good view of all that occurred, was Mrs. LaGrange, while in a remote corner of the court-room, partially concealed by the crowd, was Richard Hobson.
Hardy paused, considered for a moment the glowing end of his cigarette, and finally looked up gravely; there was a slight hesitation, almost an embarrassment, in his manner. "I don't exactly know how to put it," he began. "I don't want you chaps to imagine anything wrong; it was all very nebulous and indefinite, you understand Mrs. Whitney was a wonderful woman.
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