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Updated: June 8, 2025
"What sort of characters have these boys?" he asked of the Regimental Sergeant-Major. "Accordin' to the Bandmaster, Sir," returned that revered official the only soul in the regiment whom the boys feared "they do everything but lie, Sir." "Is it like we'd go for that man for fun, Sir?" said Lew, pointing to the plaintiff.
"Lew, I can't run away an' leave you to fight those devils alone, after all these years we've been together, I can't." "No other chance to save the lass." Jonathan quivered with the force of his emotion. His black eyes glittered; his hands grasped at nothing. Once more he was between love and duty. Again he fought over the old battle, but this time it left him weak.
Among the writers, Lew Wallace, soldier, diplomat, and author, was self-educated. John Stuart Mill, who is distinguished as a philosopher, is innocent of a college training. James Whitcomb Riley, our American Burns, is not a "college man." Hugh Miller, the Scotchman, whose fame as a geologist is known to all the world of science, did not go to college. Take statesmanship.
But he wasn't bad to me or to H lne or Nelton or Old William, and we're the ones that knew him best." For a time they were silent, then Natalie said: "Lew, you're older than you ever were before. Is it just losing your dad?" Lewis shook his head. "No," he said, "it wasn't that. I finished growing up just after I got back to London. I'm not the only thing that has grown.
Now if.... Vaneski had moved around behind Mike to watch the play. Not one of them noticed Lieutenant Lew Mellon, the Medical Officer, come into the room. That is, they knew he had come in, but they had ignored him thereafter. He was such a colorless nonentity that he simply seemed to fade into the background of the walls once he had made his entrance.
To Williamson it was anything but a simple thing. He could never broach the subject there on the sidewalk. The matter must be led up to in some way; to brace in cold blood was impossible. He moved his fingers in nervous irresolution, and the dollar touched them significantly. "Say, Lew, let's not stand here all night; come to dinner with me, can't you?
He was a burly Kentuckian, all of six feet tall and with a bushy black beard and a breath which smelt strongly of whiskey. "Don't don't shoot us!" cried Lew Flapp, in terror. "Don't shoot!" "I won't if you'll treat me proper-like," answered the Kentuckian. "How many on board?" "Four two young ladies and ourselves," answered Dan Baxter. He was doing some rapid thinking.
There was then a perceptible lull for a couple of hours, when the attack was renewed, but with much less vehemence, and continued up to dark. Early at night the division of Lew Wallace arrived from the other side of Snake Creek, not having fired a shot. A very small part of General Buell's army was on our side of the Tennessee River that evening, and their loss was trivial.
Lew Flapp followed with Nellie, who pulled his hair and scratched his face unavailingly. "Where where you going to put 'em?" queried Flapp. "In here," answered Dan Baxter, leading the way to one of the staterooms that usually occupied by Mrs. Stanhope and Dora. "Now you stay in there and keep quiet, or it will be the worse for you," Baxter went on to the girls.
She was, withal, a frolicsome, romping witch, and as he turned the corner, she came scampering along right toward him with three or four white children at her heels, and all the little woolly heads of the establishment, numbering something less than a score. "Here, Lew!" she said, as she came in sight, "you take the tag and run."
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