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Updated: June 17, 2025
Behind her, to the intense surprise of both gentlemen, loomed the stalwart figure of Mr. Jack Butler. "I thought he might be useful, uncle," said Miss Garland, coming into the room. "Auntie wouldn't let me come down before." Mr. Sharp rose in a dazed fashion and saw Mr. Culpepper grasp Mr. Butler by the hand. More dazed still, he felt the large and clumsy hand of Mr.
On Saturday, February 27th, the corps, leaving its camp and sick in charge of a small guard, marched through Culpepper and proceeded to James City, a Virginia city of two or three houses, where the bivouac for the night was made.
The old fellow planted himself on his sturdy legs. He laughed pleasantly at the pair of them. 'An' you had not been very drunk I could never have done that, he said to Culpepper, 'for I am passed of sixty, God help me. 'God help thee for a gay old cock, Culpepper said. 'You could not have done it without these gloves in your fist. 'See you, but the gloves are not cut, the knight answered.
It was nine o'clock when the limping boy and the slender girl followed the tall youth and the plump little girl down the walk from the Culpepper home through the gate and into the main road. And the couple that walked behind took the opposite direction from that which they took who walked ahead.
He hurried into the Culpepper yard, past the lilac bushes heavy with blooms, and up the broad stone steps with the white pillars looming above him. It was a quarter to eight, and at that minute Bemis was saying to Adrian Brownwell, "All right, if you don't believe it, don't take my word for it, but go home right now and see what you find."
Partisan spirit at that time ran high in the foot-hills; crimination and recrimination, challenge, reply, accusation, and retort had already inflamed the meeting, and Colonel Bungstarter, after a withering review of his opponent's policy, culminated with a personal attack upon the career and private character of the eloquent and chivalrous Colonel Culpepper Starbottle of Siskiyou.
But, unfortunately for General Meade, he was still in the dark as to the actual amount of Lee's force in Culpepper. The movement toward Warrenton might be a mere ruse.
And the guests in the Thayer House next morning asked, "Well, for heaven's sake, who was that playing 'Silver Threads among the Gold' along there about midnight? he surely must know it by this time." And Adrian Brownwell, sitting on the Culpepper veranda the next night but one, said: "Colonel, your harness-maker friend is a musical artist.
"If I ever get to be a Turk or anything like that," said Watts McHurdie, in October, two months after the events recorded in the last chapter had occurred, as he sat astraddle of his bench, sewing on a bridle, "I'm going to have one red-headed wife but not much more'n one." Colonel Culpepper dropped a "Why?" into the reflections of the poet. Watts replied, "Oh, just to complete the set!"
But Mrs. Culpepper looked up for an instant from her tea, and said, "You know you forgot the mail to-day, father," and he replied, "Yes, that's so." Then added: "Molly dear, will you bring me my overcoat please?" The girl bundled her father into his threadbare blue army overcoat with the cape. He stood for a moment absently rattling some dimes in his pocket.
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