Dire was the confusion which reigned at such times.

Books were hurled from side to side.

Then followed in quick succession shovel, tongs, poker, water cup, water pail, water and all; and to cap the climax, Jim Brown once seized the large iron pan, which stood upon the stove, half-filled with hot water, and hurled it in the midst of the enemy.

Luckily nobody was killed, and but few wounded.
Years in their rapid flight have rolled away since then, and he, my brother, is sleeping alone on the wild shore of California.
"For scarcely had the sad tones died Which echoed the farewell, When o'er the western prairies There came a funeral knell; It said that he who went from us, While yet upon his brow The dew of youth was glistening, Had passed to heaven now." James Brown, too, is resting in the churchyard, near his own home, and 'neath his own native sky..