That would be Brutus at the oar. He was the stalwart one, the stable one. Never excited, never disturbed, when trouble or danger came he simply bowed his head and pushed on, as his sort will always push on, to their last day.
When others panic or shout, when they wail and shed bitter tears, decrying the changing times, there are those like Brutus who simply go on. Changing times, anger, disappointment, defeat - all these they take in stride, living their lives with quiet persistence.
(from How the West Was Won, by Louis L'Amour)
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