You don't know Fitz? Most extraord'nary man; a great mind,
suh; literature, science, politics, finance, everything at his fingers'
ends. He has been of the greatest service to me since I have been in
New York in this railroad enterprise, which I am happy to say is now
reachin' a culmination. You shall hear all about it after dinner. Put
yo' body in that chair and yo' feet on the fender--my fire and yo'
fender! No, Fitz's fender and yo' andirons! Charmin' combination!"
It is always one of my delights to watch the colonel as he busies
himself about the room, warming a big chair for his guests, punching
the fire, brushing the sparks from the pile of plates, and testing the
temperature of the claret lovingly with the palms of his hands.
He is perhaps fifty years of age, tall and slightly built. His iron
gray hair is brushed straight back from his forehead, overlapping his
collar behind. His eyes are deep-set and twinkling; nose prominent;
cheeks slightly sunken; brow wide and high; and chin and jaw strong
and marked.
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