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Updated: June 28, 2025
Crocker's limousine and was about to descend to those lower depths where he had his being, turned, and a grave smile of welcome played over his face. "Good morning, Mr. James," he said. Jimmy Crocker was a tall and well-knit young man who later on in the day would no doubt be at least passably good-looking.
The big roan was going better, but still we did not reach Crocker's, which disappointed Uncle Beamish, who wanted to be assured that the greater part of his journey was over. "We must have passed it," he said, "when the snow was so blindin'."
Before leaving Port Gibson we were reinforced by Crocker's division, McPherson's corps, which had crossed the Mississippi at Bruinsburg and come up without stopping except to get two days' rations. McPherson still had one division west of the Mississippi River, guarding the road from Milliken's Bend to the river below until Sherman's command should relieve it.
Crocker's own age, grey-haired and thin with brown eyes that gazed meekly through rimless glasses. Nobody could have been less obtrusive than this person, yet it was he who gripped Mr. Crocker's attention and caused that home-sick sufferer's heart to give an almost painful leap.
Only the latter use the Abonsá for transport purposes I think very unwisely. My descent of the stream will show all its dangers of snags, rapids, and heavy currents. Here it rises high during the floods, and sometimes it swamps the lower courtyards. I put up at Mr. Crocker's establishment, which was, as usual, nice and clean; and the officials went on to Effuenta.
Crocker's studio about this place, nor any of the comforting companionship of the jolly old cashier, who made the minutes fly as if they had wings; and that, too, in a musty bank far more uninviting even than the club. He remembered his mother's message now and he remembered her face and the anxious expression as we always remember duties when we are uncomfortable.
Before leaving Port Gibson we were reinforced by Crocker's division, McPherson's corps, which had crossed the Mississippi at Bruinsburg and come up without stopping except to get two days' rations. McPherson still had one division west of the Mississippi River, guarding the road from Milliken's Bend to the river below until Sherman's command should relieve it.
Crocker at home? Please tell her that Mrs. Pett wishes to see her." There was a rush and scurry in the corridors of Mr. Crocker's brain, as about six different thoughts tried to squash simultaneously into that main chamber where there is room for only one at a time. He understood now why this woman's appearance had seemed familiar.
They rode miles around, and though they did again see the hounds, they did not see the hunt. To have seen the hounds as they start, and to see them again as they are clustering round the huntsman after eating their fox, is a great deal to some men. On this occasion it was Hampstead's lot and Crocker's to do much more than that.
The panelled walls were hung with prints of celebrated Greek remains; the soft, thick carpet on the floor was grateful to his tired feet; the backs of many books gleamed richly in the light of the oil lamps; the culture and tobacco smoke stole on his senses; he but vaguely comprehended Crocker's amiable talk, vaguely the answers of his little host, whose face, blinking behind the bowl of his huge meerschaum pipe, had such a queer resemblance to a moon.
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