His
own words I will not give, but will speak of Phil Boldrick as I remember
him and as Roscoe described him to us.
Of all the men in the valley, none was so striking as Phil Boldrick. Of
all faces his was the most singular; of all characters his the most
unique; of all men he was the most unlucky, save in one thing--the regard
of his fellows. Others might lay up treasures, not he; others lose money
at gambling, not he--he never had much to lose. But yet he did all things
magniloquently. The wave of his hand was expansive, his stride was
swaying and decisive, his over-ruling, fraternal faculty was always in
full swing. Viking was his adopted child; so much so that a gentleman
river-driver called it Philippi; and by that name it sometimes went, and
continues still so among those who knew it in the old days.
Others might have doubts as to the proper course to pursue under certain
circumstances; it was not so with Phil. They might argue a thing out
orally, he did so mentally, and gave judgment on it orally. He was final,
not oracular. One of his eyes was of glass, and blue; the other had an
eccentricity, and was of a deep and meditative grey.
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