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[Image unavailable.] JAMES LOUIS PETIGRU. Miniature by Fraser. {47} John, clever and witty, but the ne’er-do-well of the family. Tom, who died a captain in the U. S. navy. Charles, who graduated at West Point. The daughters were: Jane Gibert, who married John North. Mary, who never married. Louise, married Philip Johnston Porcher. Adèle, marriedRead More

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“We, in France, have been learning tolerance to God as well as to man,” he was saying. “Possibly before the war we have been drastic, but the truly remarkable revival——” France again! France and Italy and Oregon—on and on and on—the clock on the mantel clicked away the minutes ruthlessly, the precious minutes that belongedRead More

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“Pshaw!” with the accustomed sharp, impatient contempt. “My mother knows no more about wine than a baby. To drink bad wine is absolutely to poison oneself. I can’t do it, and I don’t mean to let you do it, either. And when one knows that it is only a question of a few months, moreRead More