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Excerpt from Lily Lass
Brian Fermanagh was unmarried; he had no relations in the United States it was only after considerable difficulty that his executors discovered some distant connections in the Old country, to whom his few possessions, his farm in Illinois, and what little money he had saved, finally went. He had not made much money: he never seemed to care for money or for the things that money gives; he had lived, until the war broke out, the tranquil life of a man who might have been a philosopher but who was a soldier in somewhat stirless times. When the war did come, he ¿ung himself into the struggle with the keenest enthusiasm. He fought with reckless bravery; he planned with rare military skill. In words like those which Freiligrath used about the German poet Platen, he lay dead in the South while the North was ringing with his praise.
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