So in this case, it was not wasted.
And Mr. Bohlmann, Christian though he was, as he read his paper that
evening cried, "Och! Dod Beder Stirling he always does say chust der
righd ding!"
CHAPTER LVI.
CUI BONO?
Of the further doings of that day it seems hardly necessary to write,
for the papers recorded it with a fulness impossible here. The gathering
crowds. The reinforcement of the militia. The clearing and holding of
Forty-second Street to the river. The arrival of the three barge-loads
of "scabs." Their march through that street to the station safely,
though at every cross street greeted with a storm of stones and other
missiles. The struggle of the mob at the station to force back the
troops so as to get at the "rats." The impact of the "thin line" and
that dense seething mass of enraged, crazed men. The yielding of the
troops from mere pressure. The order to the second rank to fix bayonets.
The pushing back of the crowd once more. The crack of a revolver.
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