In the summer of 1900 my brother, General Mills, and a sister paid Mrs.
Mills and myself a visit at the United States Consulate at Chihuahua.
One evening he, being in a reflective mood, said, “Will, you and I have
had many difficulties, and quarrels and fights with our personal
enemies, and it is very gratifying to know, as I am growing old, that
these are all over with me. My enemies are all reconciled to me, and I
wish you could say as much.”
I replied: “I do not know that my enemies are all reconciled to me, but
they are all _dead_, and that is better, or at least _safer_.” And it is
the literal truth. All my bitterest foes have been taken hence, most of
them by violence, and I neither rejoice at nor regret their taking off.
I do not claim that I was always right and they always wrong, for I
tried to return blow for blow, but it is certain that they often
resorted to means which I would, under no circumstances, employ. Alas,
most of my friends are gone also. Why I have been spared through it all
is a mystery which I do not attempt to explain.