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Updated: May 11, 2025
I am a man of powerful self-restraint, one of those strong, silent men, and I can curb my emotions. But I fear that Comrade Windsor's generous temperament may at any moment prompt him to start throwing ink-pots. And in Wyoming his deadly aim with the ink-pot won him among the admiring cowboys the sobriquet of Crack-Shot Cuthbert.
But two centuries and more have elapsed since there happened any justification for this frown of stone, steel and feathers; Rupert's futile demonstration on it in 1642 having been Windsor's last taste of war, its sternest office after that having been the safe-keeping of Charles I., who here spent his "sorrowful and last Christmas." Once inside the gate, visions of peace recur.
I must hear all the notes of the nightingales Do they sing to a God or to graven things And not till the last faint flute-note fails Will I stay my flight, will I fold my wings. When the last chord died away, Mrs. Windsor's voice was heard saying "I remember now, it made me cry. How dismal it is." "Yes," said Madame Valtesi, "as dismal as a wet Derby or a day at the seaside.
Windsor's cottage that evening in an amazing condition of shiny rosiness, with round cheeks that seemed to focus the dying rays of the setting sun, and hair brushed perfectly flat to their little bullet-shaped heads, in which the brains worked with much excitement and anticipation.
Big golden bees buzzed slowly and pertinaciously in and out of the sweet flowers in the formal rose garden, chaunting a note that was like the diapason of some distant organ. Mrs. Windsor's pug, "Bung," lay on his fat side in the sun with half-closed eyes, snoring loudly to indicate the fact that he seriously meditated dropping into a doze.
"In prison," said Psmith sorrowfully. "In prison!" Psmith nodded. "It is too true. Such is the generous impulsiveness of Comrade Windsor's nature that he hit a policeman, was promptly gathered in, and is now serving a sentence of thirty days on Blackwell's Island." Mr. Wilberfloss looked at Mr. Philpotts. Mr. Asher looked at Mr. Wilberfloss. Mr. Waterman started, and stumbled over a cat.
The flag which sails o'er Windsor's stately towers must soon be lost to sight. Thy course once more through silent fields is laid; but not for long; for, Hampton Court's fair palace passed, already canst thou hear the wondrous roar of unceasing footsteps in the busy haunts of men. Courage! thy goal is nearly reached: already thou art great, and greater still shalt thou become.
Harrington, a still more celebrated hunter and pioneer, and who furnished a good idea of old Leatherstocking, and who was with Winchester at the battle of River Raisin, from which he escaped, and was one of Harrison's scouts, had been often at Basil Windsor's. Hunters often found shelter there. He was there both before and after the war; and he fully corroborated McConough.
Adele had signed photographs of almost all the actors and actresses in the country and could give interesting bits of personal history about many of them. Having launched the company on this safe topic, Molly seized the old blue suit and departed into her bedroom. Judy and presently Nance also were soon absorbed in an account of Miss Windsor's visit at the home of a famous actress.
The visitors looked at each other. "This is exceedingly annoying," said the man who had said "Pardon me!" "I came for the express purpose of seeing Mr. Windsor." "So did I," chimed in the rest. "Same here. So did I." Psmith bowed courteously. "Comrade Windsor's loss is my gain. Is there anything I can do for you?" "Are you on the editorial staff of this paper?" "I am acting sub-editor.
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