| 3 | Author: | Hawthorne
Nathaniel
1804-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fanshawe  | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | In an ancient, though not very populous settlement, in
a retired corner of one of the New-England States, arise
the walls of a seminary of learning, which, for the convenience
of a name, shall be entitled `Harley College,'
This institution, though the number of its years is inconsiderable,
compared with the hoar antiquity of its European
sisters, is not without some claims to reverence on
the score of age; for an almost countless multitude of
rivals, by many of which its reputation has been eclipsed,
have sprung up since its foundation. At no time, indeed,
during an existence of nearly a century, has it acquired
a very extensive fame, and circumstances, which
need not be particularized, have of late years involved it
in a deeper obscurity. There are now few candidates
for the degrees that the college is authorized to bestow.
On two of its annual `Commencement days,' there has
been a total deficiency of Baccalaureates; and the lawyers
and divines, on whom Doctorates in their respective
professions are gratuitously inflicted, are not accustomed
to consider the distinction as an honor. Yet the sons
of this seminary have always maintained their full share
of reputation, in whatever paths of life they trod. Few
of them, perhaps, have been deep and finished scholars;
but the College has supplied—what the emergencies of
the country demanded—a set of men more useful in its
present state, and whose deficiency in theoretical knowledge
has not been found to imply a want of practical
ability. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 4 | Author: | Sargent
Epes
1813-1880 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fleetwood, Or, the Stain of Birth | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Midnight brought with it no abatement of the
violence of the gale. During the day it had swept
in eddying gusts through the broad avenues and
narrow cross-streets of the city, carrying desolation
and dismay—prostrating chimneys—scattering
the slates from the roofs—and making sad havoc
with the wooden signs, which adorned the districts
devoted to traffic. One man, as he was passing up
Broadway, had been knocked on the head by the
shaft of a canvass awning, and instantly killed.
Others had been severely bruised by the flying
fragments, strewn at random by the blast. “You were decidedly right in resisting your
mother's importunities to leave Soundside until you
had heard from me. I shall not forget such a proof
of your attachment and fidelity. My business here
is of that importance that I cannot possibly quit the
city till Friday afternoon. Otherwise I would
most gladly fly to you at once. Under these circumstances,
and since your mother is so exceedingly
anxious to have you accompany her, I do not
see but that we had better yield to her wishes.
Our marriage can as well take place here as at
Soundside; and I see no good reason why it should
be deferred beyond the period we originally fixed.
Present my respects to your mother, and tell her
that for her daughter's sake she shall be dear.
Should you see Glenham, remember me to him
kindly. I owe him much. Poor fellow! he has
cause to envy me your affection; but I know that
he is incapable of any such passion. Apply to him
unreservedly, should you have occasion for friendly
and discreet advice. Let me know you mother's
address, that I may call as soon as you reach the
city. I am compelled to write in haste, as I only
received your letter a few minutes since, and mine
will miss the mail if I delay even to tell you with
how much sincerity and love, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 5 | Author: | Kirkland
Caroline M.
(Caroline Matilda)
1801-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Forest Life | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | If any body may be excused for writing a book,
it is the dweller in the wilderness; and this must, I
think, be evident to all who give the matter a moment's
reflection. My neighbor, Mrs. Rower, says,
indeed, that there are books enough in the world,
and one too many; but it will never do to consult
the neighbors, since what is said of a prophet is
doubly true of an author. Indeed, it is of very
little use to consult any body. What is written
from impulse is generally the most readable, and
this fact is an encouragement to those who are conscious
of no particular qualification beyond a desire
to write. People write because they cannot help
it. The heart longs for sympathy, and when it
cannot be found close at hand, will seek it the
world over. We never tell our thoughts but with
the hope of an echo in the thoughts of others.
We set forth in the most attractive guise the treasures
of our fancy, because we hope to warm into
life imaginations like our own. If the desire for
sympathy could lie dormant for a time, there would
be no more new books, and we should find leisure
to read those already written. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 6 | Author: | Kirkland
Caroline M.
(Caroline Matilda)
1801-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Forest Life | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | A year and a half had elapsed since the abstraction
of the grapes, and the skin had grown over
Seymour's knuckles, and also the bark over certain
letters which he had carved in very high places on
some of Mr. Hay's forest-trees; and, sympathetically
perhaps, a suitable covering over the wounds
made in his heart by the scornful eyes of the unconscious
Caroline. His figure had changed its
proportions, as if by a wire-drawing process, since
what it had gained in length was evidently subtracted
from its breadth. The potato redness of
his cheeks had subsided into a more presentable
complexion, and his teeth were whiter than ever,
while the yawns which used to exhibit them unseasonably
had given place to a tolerable flow of
conversation, scarcely tinctured by mauvaise honte.
In short, considering that he was endowed with a
good share of common sense, he was really a handsome
young man. Not but some moss was still
discoverable. It takes a good while to rub off
inborn rusticity, especially when there is much
force of character. The soft are more easily
moulded. Is it possible, my dear Williamson, that after your
experience of the world's utter hollowness—its
laborious pleasures and its heart-wringing disappointments—you
can still be surprised at my preference
of a country life? you, who have sounded to its
core the heart of fashionable society in the old
world and the new, tested the value of its friendship,
and found it less than nothing; sifted its
pretensions of every kind, and expressed a thousand
times your disgust at their falseness—you think it
absurd in me to venture upon so desperate a plan
as retirement? You consider me as a man who has
taken his last, worst step; and who will soon deserve
to be set aside by his friends as an irreclaimable
enthusiast. Perhaps you are right as to the folly
of the thing, but that remains to be proved; and
I shall at least take care that my error, if it be one,
shall not be irrevocable. * * * Since my last we have taken up our
abode in the wilderness in good earnest,—not in
“sober sadness,” as you think the phrase ought to
be shaped. There is, to be sure, an insignificant
village within two or three miles of us, but our
house is the only dwelling on our little clearing—
the immense trunks of trees, seemingly as old as
the creation, walling us in on every side. There
is an indescribable charm in this sort of solitary
possession. In Alexander Selkirk's case, I grant
that the idea of being “monarch of all I survey,”
with an impassable ocean around my narrow empire,
might suggest some inconvenient ideas. The
knowledge that the breathing and sentient world
is within a few minutes' walk, forms, it must be
owned, no unpleasant difference between our lot
and his. But with this knowledge, snugly in the
background, not obtrusive, but ready for use, comparative
solitude has charms, believe me. The
constant sighing of the wind through the forest
leaves; the wild and various noises of which we
have not yet learned to distinguish one from the
other—distinct yet softly mingled—clearly audible,
yet only loud enough to make us remark
more frequently the silence which they seem scarcely
to disturb, such masses of deep shade that even
in the sunny spots the light seems tinged with
green—these things fill the mind with images of
repose, of leisure, of freedom, of tranquil happiness,
untrammelled by pride and ceremony;—of unbounded
opportunity for reflection, with the richest
materials for the cultivation of our better nature. Why have I not written you a dozen letters
before this time? I can give you no decent or
rational apology. Perhaps, because I have had
too much leisure—perhaps too many things to
say. Something of this sort it certainly must be,
for I have none of the ordinary excuses to offer
for neglect of my dear correspondent. Think
any thing but that I love you less. This is the
very place in which to cherish loving memories.
But as to writing, this wild seclusion has so many
charms for me, this delicious summer weather so
many seductions, that my days glide away imperceptibly,
leaving scarcely a trace of any thing accomplished
during their flight. I rise in the morning
determined upon the most strenuous industry. I hoped to have been before this time so
deeply engaged with studs and siding, casings and
cornice, that letter-writing would have been out of
the question. But my lumber is at the saw-mill, and
all the horses in the neighborhood are too busy to
be spared for my service. I must have, of course,
horses of my own, but it is necessary first to build
a stable, so that I am at present dependent on
hiring them when necessary. This, I begin to
perceive, will cause unpleasant delays, since each
man keeps no more horses than he needs for his
own purposes. Here is a difficulty which recurs
at every turn, in the country. There is nothing like
a division of labor or capital. Every body tills the
ground, and, consequently, each must provide a
complete equipment of whatever is necessary for
his business, or lose the seasons when business
may be done to best advantage. At this season,
in particular, this difficulty is increased, because
the most important business of the year is crowded
into the space of a few months. Those who hire
extra help at no other period, now employ as much
as they are able to pay, which increases much the
usual scarcity of laborers. It is the time of year,
too, when people in new countries are apt to be attacked
by the train of ills arising from marsh miasmata,
and this again diminishes the supply of able
hands. I studied your last in the cool morning
hour which I often devote to a ramble over the
wooded hills which rise near our little cottage. I
seated myself on a fallen tree, in a spot where I might
have mused all day without seeing a human face,
or hearing any sound more suggestive of civilization
than the pretty tinkling of the numerous bells
which help to find our wandering cattle. What a
place in which to read a letter that seemed as if it
might have been written after a stupid party, or in
the agonies which attend a “spent ball.” (Vide T.
Hood.) Those are not your real sentiments, my
dear Kate; you do not believe life to be the scene
of ennui, suffering, or mere endurance, which you
persuaded yourself to think it just then. If I
thought you did, I should desire nothing so much
as to have your hand in mine for just such a ramble
and just such a lounge as gave me the opportunity
for reflecting on your letter; I am sure I could
make you own that life has its hours of calm and
unexciting, but high enjoyment. With your capabilities,
think whether there must not be something
amiss in a plan or habit of being that subjects
you to these seasons of depression and disgust.
Is that tone of chilling, I might say killing
ridicule, which prevails in certain circles, towards
every thing which does not approach a particular
arbitrary standard, a wholesome one for our
mental condition? I believe not; for I have never
known one who adopted it fully, who had not at
times a most uneasy consciousness that no one could
possibly be entirely secure from its stings. Then
there is a restless emulation, felt in a greater or less
degree by all who have thrown themselves on the
arena of fashionable life, which is, in my sober
view, the enemy of repose. I am not now attempting
to assign a cause for that particular fit of
the blues which gave such a dark coloring to the
beginning of your letter. I am only like the physician
who recalls to his patient's mind the atmospheric
influence that may have had an unfavorable
effect upon his symptoms. You will conclude I
must have determined to retort upon you in some
degree the scorn which you cannot help feeling for
the stupidity of a country life, by taking the first
opportunity to hint that there are some evils from
which the dweller in the wilds is exempt. On the
other hand, I admit that in solitude we are apt to
become mere theorists, or dreamers, if you will.
Ideal excellence is very cheap; theory and sentiment
may be wrought up to great accuracy and perfection;
and it is an easy error to content ourselves
with these, without seeking to ascertain whether we
are capable of the action and sacrifice which must
prove that we are in earnest. You are right, certainly,
in thinking that in society we have occasion
for more strenuous and energetic virtues; but yet,
even here, there is no day which does not offer its
opportunities for effort and self-denial, and in a very
humble and unenticing form too. But we shall
never settle this question, for the simple reason that
virtue is at home every where alike; so I will
spare you further lecture. Next to seeing yourself, my dear Williamson,
I can scarcely think of any thing that would have
afforded me more pleasure than the sight of a friend
of yours bearing credentials under your hand and
seal. And over and above this title to my esteem,
Mr. Ellis brings with him an open letter of recommendation
in that very handsome and pleasing
countenance of his, and a frank and hearty manner
which put us quite at ease with him directly, notwithstanding
a certain awkward consciousness of
the narrowness of our present accommodations,
which might have made a visit from any other
stranger rather embarrassing. His willingness to be
pleased, his relish for the amusing points of the
half-savage state, and the good-humor with which
he laughed off sundry rather vexatious contre-temps
really endeared him to us all. Half a dozen
men of his turn of mind for neighbors, with wives
of “kindred strain,” would create a paradise in
these woods, if there could be one on earth. A letter is certainly your due, my dear Catharine;
but yours of some fortnight since,—all kind,
and lively, and sympathizing, and conceding, as it
is,—deserves a better reply than this dripping sky
will help me to indite. Why is it that I, who ever
loved so dearly a rainy day in town, find it suggestive
of—not melancholy—for melancholy and
I are strangers—but of stupid things, in the country?
To account for the difference drives me into
the region of small philosophies. In the one case
there is the quiet that bustle has made precious,
the leisure which in visiting weather one is apt to
see slip from one's grasp unimproved; a contrast
like that which we feel on turning from the dusty
pathway into the cool shade—a protected shade,
as of a garden, where one locks the gate and looks
up with satisfaction at high walls, impassable by
foot unprivileged. In the other—the contrary
case—we have leisure in sunshine as well as leisure
in the rain; we have abundance of quiet at all
seasons, and no company at any, so that when the
rain comes it can but deprive us of our accustomed
liberty of foot. The pattering sound so famed for
its lulling powers is but too effectual when it falls
on roofs not much above our heads; and the disconsolate
looking cattle, the poor shivering fowls
huddled together under every sheltering covert, and
the continuous snore of cat and dog as they doze
on the mats—all tend towards our infectious
drowsiness, that is much more apt to hint the
dreamy sweetness of a canto or two of the Faery
Queene, than the duteous and spirited exercise of
the pen, even in such service as yours. Yet I have
broken the spell of
“Sluggish Idleness, the nurse of sin.”
by the magic aid of a third reading of your letter.
And now I defy even the
“Ever drizling raine upon the lofte,
Mixt with a murmuring winde.”
* * * Ought a letter to be a transcript of
one's better mind, or only of one's present and
temporary humor? If the former, I must throw
away the pen, I fear, for some time to come. If
the latter, I have only to scrawl the single word
AGUE a thousand times on the face of my paper,
or write it once in letters which would cover the
whole surface. I have no other thought, I can
no longer say,
“My mind my kingdom is.”
Didn't I say something, in one of my late
letters, about an October landscape? I had not yet
seen a November one in the forest. Since the splendid
coloring of those days has been toned down by
some hard frosts, and all lights and shades blended
into heavenly harmony by the hazy atmosphere of
the delicious period here called “Indian summer,”
Florella and I have done little else but wander
about, gazing in rapture, and wishing we could
share our pleasure with somebody as silly as ourselves.
If the Indians named this season, it must
have been from a conviction that such a sky and
such an atmosphere must be granted as an encouraging
sample of the far-away Isles of Heaven,
where they expect to chase the deer forever unmolested.
If you can imagine a view in which the
magnificent coloring of Tintoretto has been softened
to the taste of Titian or Giorgione, and this
seen through a transparent veil of dim silver, you
may form some notion of our November landscape. I have grown very lazy of late,—so much so,
that even letter-writing has become quite a task.
Perhaps it is only that I so much prefer flying over
this fine, hard, smooth snow in a sleigh, that I feel a
chill of impatience at in-door employment. I make
a point of duty of Charlotte's daily lessons, but beyond
that I am but idle just now. The weather
has been so excessively cold for some days that we
have had much ado to keep comfortably warm, even
with the aid of great stoves in the hall and kitchen,
and bountiful wood fires elsewhere. These wood
fires are the very image of abundance, and they are
so enlivening that I am becoming quite fond of
them, though they require much more attention than
coal, and will, occasionally, snap terribly, even to the
further side of the room, though the rug is generally
the sufferer. An infant of one of our neighbors was
badly burned, a day or two since, by a coal which
flew into the cradle at a great distance from the
fire. I marvel daily that destructive fires are not
more frequent, when I see beds surrounded with
light cotton curtains so near the immense fires
which are kept in log-houses. How much more
rational would be worsted hangings! Once more, with pen in hand, dearest Catharine;
and oh, how glad and how thankful to find
myself so well and so happy! I could have written
you a week ago, but Mr. Sibthorpe, who is indeed
a sad fidget, as I tell him every day, locked
up pen, ink, and paper, most despotically, leaving
me to grumble like Baron Trenck or any other
important prisoner. To-day the interdict is taken
off, and I must spur up my lagging thoughts, or I
shall not have said forth half my say before I shall
be reduced to my dormouse condition again. I have examined the sheets you put into my hands, and am happy to say, that I
think your work will be found, both by teachers and pupils a valuable auxiliary
in the acquisition of the French language. The manner in which you have
obviated the principal difficulties in the first lessons, and the general plan of the
work, make it a very useful first book for those who are old enough to study with
some degree of judgment and discrimination. I have examined the sheets of the New Practical Translator, and believe that
the work will be very useful as an introduction to the translating French into
English, as it affords an easy explanation of most of the difficulties that are apt to
embarrass beginners. I have long felt the want of a “First Book” for beginners in the French Language,
upon the progressive principles which you have adopted, and shall show
how sincere I am in this recommendation of your undertaking, by the immediate
introduction of the “New Practical Translator” into my school. I have looked over the sheets of your “New Practical Translator,” and am
much pleased both with the plan of the work, and with the style of its execution.
It must form a valuable accession to the means already within the reach of the
young for acquiring a knowledge of the French Language; and, if it finds with
the public that measure of favour which it merits, I am satisfied that you will
have no cause to complain that your labours, in this department of instruction,
have not been well received or well rewarded. I have examined attentively the plan of your “New Practical Translator,” and,
to some extent, the mode in which the plan has been executed. The work appears
to me to be well adapted to promote the improvement of those who are commencing
the study of the French Language. The real difficulties, in the progress of
the student, he is furnished with the means of overcoming, while such as will
yield to moderate industry, he is judiciously left to surmount by his own efforts. I have examined, with care, “The New Practical Translator,” by Mr. Bugard.
The plan and execution of the author appear to me judicious, and I am acquainted
with no elementary work, so well adapted for communicating a knowledge of the
French language. I have examined with much pleasure the sheets of the French Practical Translator,
which you were kind enough to send me. As far as I am able to judge, I
should think it would be found a very useful auxiliary to the French instructer. I
concur fully in the opinion of the work, expressed by Mr. T. B. Hayward. —It gives me much pleasure to express the high opinion I entertain of the
“New French Practical Translator,” as an introduction to the study of the French
language. The plan of it is very judicious. While those difficulties are removed
which perplex and discourage young learners, it demands sufficient exercise of the
pupil's own powers to keep alive the interest arising from the consciousness of
successful effort. I should be happy if I could from my own knowledge give you a recommendation
of your book, the Practical Translator. But, from my own little knowledge
and from the most thorough information I can obtain, I am satisfied that we have
no so valuable book of its kind for the study of the French language, and have
therefore introduced it into my school. I have examined with much pleasure the new French Practical Translator,
which you were so kind as to send me. I consider it a very valuable book for beginners,
as it removes many difficulties, which have heretofore embarrassed them.
I shall immediately introduce it into my school. —It gives me great pleasure to add my testimonial in favour of your
“New Practical Translator,” to the many you have already received. I have
used the work with a great many pupils in this institution, and find it a very excellent
and interesting manual. It is of great service in removing the difficulties
which beginners encounter at the commencement of their French Studies. I wish
you much success in introducing it into our Schools and Academies. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 7 | Author: | University of Virginia
Library | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | First Annual Report of the Archivist, Library of the University of Virginia, for the Year 1930-31 | | | | Published: | 2005 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | A YEAR ago, as a preliminary step to beginning the inventory of
manuscript materials in Virginia, the newly appointed archivist
interviewed a number of historians and librarians in the State to
discuss the general situation regarding depositories, public and semipublic,
and the possibility of gaining access to private collections. An
outline of the various sources of historical materials was subsequently
drawn up1
1.A copy of this outline, "State Survey of Historical Materials" is appended
to this report, page 8.
and submitted to these same individuals and others within
and outside the State for criticism. Their comments were helpful and
encouraging and it is gratifying to find that, at the end of the year's
work, the outline, with a few additions, has measured up to actual conditions
as found in widely separated counties in the State. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 8 | Author: | University of Virginia
Library | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fourth Annual Report of the Archivist, Library of the University of Virginia, for the Year 1933-34 | | | | Published: | 2005 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE movement for the preservation of research materials, sponsored
by the Social Science Research Council in 1929, is steadily
becoming national in scope, and the report of another year's work
in Virginia affords good evidence for this contention. While the project
for the survey and collection of social science source materials in
this State originated with the Institute for Research in the Social Sciences
and the Library of the University of Virginia, its inception was
made possible by the recommendation of the Joint Committee on Materials
for Research of the SSRC and the American Council of Learned
Societies;1
1.Cf. First Annual Report of the Archivist . . . 1930-31 (University, Va.,
1931), page 7.
and during the past two or three years the activity of other
national and local organizations along the same line has further demonstrated
its fundamental importance for all related fields of scholarship. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 9 | Author: | University of Virginia
Library | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fifth Annual Report of the Archivist, Library of the University of Virginia, for the Year 1934-35 | | | | Published: | 2005 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | AN ANNUAL stock-taking in archival work during this era of
rapid change gives pause for reflection. Expansion and planning,
with wide variation in the modification of each by the other,
may be said to characterize these recent years. The sudden expansion
of research activity in the social sciences and related fields, quickened
by the World War debacle, created a heavy demand for the necessary
raw materials. Since economic and social planning were the crux of
the new viewpoint in research, scholars called for every kind of published
or unpublished material bearing upon human relationships, and
those librarians in closer contact with this research took up the challenge
to accomplish the impossible. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 10 | Author: | University of Virginia.
Library | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fourteenth annual report on historical collections, University of Virginia Library, for the year 1943-44 | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | WHEN an institution preserves historical records according
to plan, we generally assume that they will be used
sooner or later in research. Their usefulness depends to
a large degree, of course, upon their accessibility. However slightly
some custodians may feel their responsibility on this score,
certain rudimentary controls and procedures can be established
without great difficulty. The system need not be complicated—in
fact, experience in the Rare Books and Manuscripts Division of
the University of Virginia Library has shown that simplicity
of arrangement, along with observance of a few sound archival
principles, makes the records available in good order with a
minimum of delay.1
1.Thirteenth Annual Report on Historical Collections, University of
Virginia Library, for the Year 1942-43 (University, Va., 1943), pages
1-14.
Once the records are within the walls of the
library, they are readily susceptible to some control; but what is
to be said about "system" and "control" while they are still outside? | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 11 | Author: | University of Virginia.
Library | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fifteenth annual report on historical collections, University of Virginia Library, for the year 1944-45 | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | TO understand the pursuit of collecting historical materials,
both manuscripts and imprints, four parties must be
considered. They may regard their activities, under varying
circumstances, as hard-headed business or a fascinating game.
Certain parties may be intense rivals at one time, or loyal partners
at another. Self satisfaction and altruism are often motivating
forces that work hand in hand because, whatever the immediate
gain or advantage, there is an ultimate cultural objective
that cannot honestly be gainsaid. In this perennial pursuit is there
a winner? And if so, are the cards stacked in anyone's favor? | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 12 | Author: | Belknap
Jeremy
1744-1798 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Foresters | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | To perform the promise which
I made to you before I began my journey,
I will give you such an account of this,
once forest, but now cultivated and pleasant
country, as I can collect from my
conversation with its inhabitants, and
from the perusal of their old family papers,
which they have kindly permitted
me to look into for my entertainment.
By these means I have acquainted
myself with the story of their first
planting, consequent improvements and
present state; the recital of which will
occupy the hours which I shall be able to
spare from business, company and sleep,
during my residence among them. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 13 | Author: | Child
Lydia Maria Francis
1802-1880 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fact and Fiction | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | In very ancient times there dwelt, among the Phrygian
hills, an old shepherd and shepherdess, named
Mygdomus and Arisba. From youth they had tended
flocks and herds on the Idean mountains. Their only
child, a blooming boy of six years, had been killed by
falling from a precipice. Arisba's heart overflowed
with maternal instinct, which she yearned inexpressibly
to lavish on some object; but though they laid
many offerings on the altars of the gods, with fervent
supplications, there came to them no other child. —Black and hevy is my hart for
the news I have to tell you. James is in prison, concarnin
a bit of paper, that he passed for money.
Sorra a one of the nabors but will be lettin down the
tears, when they hear o' the same. I don't know the
rights of the case; but I will never believe he was a
boy to disgrace an honest family. Perhaps some
other man's sin is upon him. It may be some comfort
to you to know that his time will be out in a year
and a half, any how. I have not seen James sense I
come to Ameriky; but I heern tell of what I have
writ. The blessed Mother of Heaven keep your harts
from sinkin down with this hevy sorrow. Your
frind and nabor, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 14 | Author: | Flint
Timothy
1780-1840 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Francis Berrian, or, The Mexican patriot | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | The first night after the junction, I passed in the tent
of my classmate, of whom I have spoken. He gave me
a succinct, but most interesting narrative of his fortunes
since we had separated from each other in the halls of
our alma mater. As the materials, the character, and the
fate of that interesting body of young men, who were now
united with the Mexican patriots, and many of whom at
this moment fill the first offices in Louisiana, have never
yet been given to the public, and as they are henceforward
identified in the same cause with myself, I shall take
leave to digress from the thread of my narrative, to give
you a very brief outline of the rise and progress of this
expedition on Texas, as my classmate gave it to me. “I have wept over the ruin of the amiable family,
with whom you fled to the mountains, victims of a
sympathy, for which the subjects of it do not thank you.
I have a kind of right in what remains of the family, for
Wilhelmine has been my companion, and my fixed friend, and
she was very amiable and good. Now, that her father and
sisters are dead, I feel it to be a duty due to her, to claim,
that you now either marry her, or send the poor forlorn
girl to me. However you may have thought before, you
must surely feel now, that she can no longer reside with
you, as formerly. I will receive, cherish, and comfort her,
will ask no questions, and will answer for her safety. You
cannot mistake your duty, nor my right to this kind of
interference. Present her my love and condolence, and
show her this.” “I informed you in my last, of my arrival here from
Durango. My father was in a continual fret of impatience,
lest we should not arrive in season, to anticipate
the decree of confiscation. That terrible word confiscation!
There is nothing on earth I hate like Don Pedro,
and the worst name I can call him, is Confiscation. I am
wholly unable to conceive how, or why old men should
become so intensely fond of money, about the time that
they cease to be able to make any use of it. I believe,
he loves me, as the next best thing to money, and the
power he has lost, As to my dear, good mother, he may
have loved her once; but that is a thing quite gone by.
Do you begin to love your husband less, than you did at
first, Jacinta? More than once, on the way, he looked
sufficiently sternly upon me, reminding me frequently,
that if I had not been a perverse and disobedient child, I
should have been, at this time, lady of the minister of war,
and he, perhaps, prime minister! All would have been
safe, and I in a fair way to ascend the topmost round in the
ladder of eminence. I have found the advantage of
keeping up the fair ascendency that I have won, when
this hated subject is discussed. So I told him, that he
must have singular notions of the power of the said minister,
to communicate honor, for that he well knew, that he
was a coward, a liar, and an assassin; and I know not, if
I added other epithets; but I had plenty more in my
thoughts, and told him, that if it would comfort him to
have me die, I was ready to gratify him, but not in that
way. Upon the word, I had to encounter a long and bitter
philippic, by way of comfortable even ng domestic confabulation.
He rung upon the old changes, the folly and
idle romanticity of foolish girls, and the absolute necessity
of wealth, to any thing like comfortable, or respectable
existence, and that one week's endurance of real poverty,
genuine love, and a cottage, would restore my brain to
VOL. II. 16
common sense, and bring me to beg, as a boon, the favor,
which I was now, in the wildness of folly, casting
from me. Then it was easy to digress to that dear
young man, and to say, that since that ruinous acquaintance,
all other men were liars, assassins, and all that
My mother, good woman, as the conversation grew
sometimes a little warm, put in a kind of neutral interpolation,
partaking equally of assent and dissent, attempting
to smooth down my father's brow, and remind me of
the rights of paternity. Between apprehensions from
Indians, patriots, robbers and Royalists, for we seem to
be equally obnoxious to all, and this last and most
horrid evil of all, confiscation, I had but an uncomfortable
time to the city. I had travelled the same journey
before, and had seen and felt the grand and beautiful
scenery. At this time, my heart was too heavy, and too
painfully occupied for me to have any eyes for nature. Our Lady of the Pillar preserve us! I have seen him
again, and my heart beats even now so loud, that it disturbs
my thoughts, and my pen. I never needed a second
look to assure me that it was the very man. I had
been driven to the alameda, with our old duena, who
was ill, and in company with my daily tormentor. The
carriage windows were drawn up on account of the air.
He was walking in the streets, and an Irishman, formerly
a servant of my father's, was walking behind him.
How well I remember the calm and lofty port, the
countenance so animated, benevolent, and mild! I gave
a half shriek, before I recollected myself; and then it
was too late, for my countenance told the tale of what I
had seen. His prying and malignant eye soon discovered
in the group the person that had arrested mine.
He expressed ironical regret at the cause of my alarm,
and muttered something implying that he would
not have such terrible objects in the way, to annoy me.
I gave him a look that I trust he understood, and told
him that to filial regard to my father, he must be sensible
he owed all my endurance of his presence. “I know,” I
cried, “that you are equally cowardly and vindictive.
But, venture to touch a hair of his head, and I will move
heaven and earth, until an avenger of his cause shall be
found. Not that I have or expect ever to have any personal
interest in his preservation beyond the common interest,
which all ought to have in preserving the virtuous
and the good. In this country of distraction and crime,
we ought to preserve at least one good person. If you
really wish endurance from me, much more, if you
expect kindness, expect it only from using moderation
and forbearance towards him. Make no use of your bad
power towards him, and in the same proportion, you
will be sure of my taking a less active part in his favour.
If you would promise me with a pledge, on which I
might rely, that you would avail yourself of your influence
to protect him, I should be willing to promise in my
turn, never to see him again.” The standard of the Patriots is again unfurled, I am
told, and directly in view of your castle, in the city of
Vera Cruz. With how little ceremony they treat emperors,
and kings, and great men in these evil days, upon
which we are fallen. I suppose the royal cavalier, so
dear to you, sees with an equal eye the fighting of Patriots
and Imperialists. Both are alike hostile to him
and when these parties have mutually worried and
weakened each other, he, the third person, can with so
much the more ease fall upon the victor and destroy him.
To him all this fighting may be matter of indifferent regard.
Not so to me. A man dearer to me than liberty,
or country, or home, or all the world, except my
dearer parents, and, the Virgin forgive me! except my
mother, dearer than even they, is going to join himself
VOL. II. 17
to the Patriot standard. I sometimes flatter myself
that I am a Patriot by instinct. Since I have been acquainted
with this man I have learned to read English;
I have been deeply engaged in the American history.
What a great country! What a noble people! Compare
their faces and persons with those of the people
here, and what a difference! There is something independent
and severe in the appearance and person of
these people. There is not a book in my father's library
that treats of them, or their history, but what I have
thoroughly conned. But to my story; I am extremely
cautious how I indulge in the society of this man. If he
learned the half of my impatience to enjoy his society,
I fear he would hold me cheap. For they say, at least
my mother says, that men will not love too much love,
or value any thing that comes cheap. In fact I dare
not treat myself too much, or too often with that high
and intoxicating enjoyment, and I economize every
moment of it, and feel as though I had acquired
a title to enjoy it by forbearance before the
treat. I affect a distance and reserve in his presence,
that appears to give him pain, as I know it does me. It
is true, he has not complained in words. But there is
often a modest remonstrance in his manner which taxes
me with cruelty, more painfully than any words he
could utter. We had a long walk together yesterday.
To give us countenance, and to screen our purpose, Laura
started with us, and as soon as we were beyond view,
she kindly left us to ourselves. How deeply this child
has read the chapter of the heart! And what was the
fruit of this solitary ramble? the very anticipation of
which was sufficient to rouse my pulses to fever quickness!
Why, we walked side by side most lovingly indeed,
but as silent as stock doves. He sighed, poor
fellow, and I sighed. He said Yea—and I said Amen.
He looked at San Puebla, which is now casting up ruddy
flames amidst its pillars of smoke, and his eye kindled
for a moment, but he soon returned to his sighs
again. Once he met me, as I well remember, with a kind
of saucy recklessness. But now, when he steals a
glance at me, his eye quails, and when to assist me in
passing, he takes my hand, his absolutely trembles.
My heart thanks him, for I feel that these are the tremors
of a subdued heart. He came out at last with the
principal secret, and told me that he was about leaving
this city for Vera Cruz. It was now my turn to show
emotion; and it was at first too great for words. As soon
as I became collected from the first surprise, I told him
that those who wished him best, wished him nothing
better than to stay where he was, and that it was a conduct
that militated against his professions to me, to leave
a place where he could visit me at his choice. He then
informed me, that the Patriot flag was unfurled at Vera
Cruz; that his principles, his predilections, and he added,
as his cheek reddened, his detestation of Iturbide
and his minions forbade him to remain in an inglorious
pursuit here, although he could at any moment look at
the town of the Mansion of Martha, where honorable
men his compatriots were rushing to the tented field.
He added, that his determination had been approved
by the Conde de Serrea; that he expected appointment
and rank in the Patriot army; that there was but one
vista through the darkness of his prospects to the only
hope of his heart, and that he saw no way for him, but
to cut his path through it with his good sword. I know
not if I give them rightly, but at the time I thought them
pretty words, and I understood the meaning to be that,
he had no hope of gaining me, but by gaining distinction
and power at the same time. I saw that his heart sunk
at the prospect of leaving me; and as he looked dejected
and on the minor key, I believe that I threw as much
encouragement as I well could into my manner. I am
afraid that he thought me too fond, for I think that I
pressed his hand and gave him well and fully to know
that, in me he had a tried and sure friend in the garrison.
Indeed more soft things were said than there is
any use in writing. I conjured him to take care of himself
and not be rash. I cautioned him against the assassin-dagger
of Don Pedro, who is to command the imperial
forces against the Patriots; and then I placed before
him the dangers of that sultry and sickly climate.
I conjured up so many horrors in prospect that my eyes
actually filled with tears, and I was obliged to turn
away to prevent his seeing them. He had harped on the
right string, and I became talkative. I said a thousand
things, and some of them I suppose more tender than
I should have said. I am sure that he discovered that
I was a traitor, for I expressed a decided wish that the
Patriots might prevail, and that he might acquire consideration
and glory; and if they established a new government,
above all things, that he might acquire influence
enough to save my father's estate from confiscation.
He clearly understood me to mean that, whenever this
should be the case, he would be the favored man of
my father, as he was now of me. And here, the man
habitually so guarded in the expression of his feelings,
fell into a most amiable fit of raptures, and made a great
many protestations of love and respect and all that, and
he talked so fast, and so fervently, and withal managed
the thing so well, that I was obliged to let him run on.
At seven in the evening I was obliged to tear myself
away from him and see my persecutor. I told him so;
and told him moreover that when he saw with how
much patience I bore this torture, I wished him to
copy it. I envy you, for you are daily near him, who occupies
all my thoughts. And yet such are the horrible barriers
of party and opinion, your noble minds must be at
variance, and you cannot meet him, for he is a Patriot
and you are a Royalist. So once was I, and I think fiercer
than you. See this man, and but for your husband you
would be a Patriot too. But you are married, and for
your loyalty to your husband and your king you had
best not see him. We have had a large pacquet from
the Patriots, that is, the Conde has had one, and they
have had a battle, the Patriots and Imperialists, and the
latter had the advantage. Heaven be praised, my beloved
is safe, and Sant' Anna writes that, he behaved
gloriously. He was every where in the thickest of he
fight, hunting, I dare say, for his Excellency, my admirer.
They have appointed him a Colonel, and he has gained
influence and respect far beyond his nominal command.
Every despatch is full of his conduct and his praises.
I rejoice in his glory with trembling. Angels and the
blessed Virgin preserve him, and bring him back in safety
with his glory! To be admired and promoted in a
cause which the Conde espouses, must be real glory.
Then I read his own letter to the Conde written in Spanish.
The purity of the language and style, would have
done credit to the Royal Academy. Of himself he writes
with the perfect modesty and simplicity of a great man.
There was a chasm in the letter, and there, thought I,
had he dared, would have been love for me. I kissed
the white interval at the thought. He says, that Sant'
Anna is full of courage, that the Patriots are no ways
disheartened, and that the people are every day flocking
to their standard. Indeed the emperor himself looks
in doubt, and his eternal simper was this evening exchanged
for a look of anxiety, and he appeared the better
for it. He had a great deal to say about his Excellency,
and his being the firmest prop of his throne, and how
impatient I must be to hear from the army, and how
anxious for his return! This man of the muddy head
has not yet been admitted to the secret of my likes and
dislikes; and he is too destitute of penetration to see
what is most palpably passing immediately under his
eye. And then, having praised his Excellency, thick
and three fold, he began to anoint me in the same way.
There are certain little liberties which he thinks it a
great honor to bestow upon his favorites. He seemed
disposed to take them with me. I repelled them, and
in a manner, which could not be mistaken. I will aver,
that the man is not wholly destitute of good feeling; for
he blushed even to his red whiskers. You have made my heart glad with your letter. You
say, that you espouse no cause, that blinds your understanding,
or takes away the power of discriminating
truth from error, pretension from reality. That is like
you. You have taken interest enough in him from his
being dear to me, to inquire him out. You delight me
by saying, that his deportment has won all praise, triumphed
over envy, and even gained the applauses of
your husband. Every generous heart ought to feel the
difference between an unprincipled adventurer, and the
partizan, whose private life and deportment show, that
his heart and his principles are in the cause he espouses;
and who in private pities, relieves, and spares those
men for whose cause he professes to have taken up
arms. It is only necessary to look at him, to see that
the motives that have carried him to the field are neither
interest nor to take side with the strongest. There
is something that speaks out when the heart is in earnest.
I have never seen a man whose manner so strongly
evinces that every thing he does, is matter of conscience
and principle. I have this day received a package of your letters at
once. I do not wonder at your astonishment that you
have had no news of me for a long time. It is a miracle
that you should ever hear of me again as an inhabitant
of this earth. Oh! what have I not suffered? I have
lived fifty years in a month, and I have performed, Oh!
such a penance for my sins. Surely, I must have sinned
deeply. But I hope my trials have not been without
their use. I am sure that I am more sober; that I have
acquired some practical philosophy, and that my pulses
will never beat so tumultuously again. But you shall
have the sad story of my sufferings. The evening after
my mother had at last come out with that decided preference
for Mr. Berrian, that I mentioned to you; too
happy to sit still, and in a frame of mind to muse in the
moon-light and inhale the delicious evening breeze, and
think upon that man, I bade the dueña walk with me
and I took the direction of the lake, for we live near that
extremity of the city. It was very imprudent I grant
you, in these times of distraction and misrule. But I
felt so happy and in such a delightful frame of mind to
enjoy the evening! and I felt too as if I was strong in the
strength of his protecting arm. We had cleared the
city and were approaching the lake before we remarked
that a carriage with servants wearing the Imperial livery
followed us. An apprehensive suspicion flashed across
my mind, but was instantly driven out by a pleasanter
train of thought. We continued to walk on for nearly
half a league, and the dueña remarked to me that the
carriage followed at the same pace and kept the same
distance. Ashivering terror of some unknown danger pervaded
my mind, as I perceived that she remarked rightly.
We immediately turned on our steps for the city. The
carriage stopped in a notch of the causeway. Petrified
with terror, I stopped too; but not long, for a man muffled
in a cloak and followed by two servants made towards
me. I shrieked and ran as fast as the unwiedly
dueña could follow me. I was overtaken in a moment.
The stranger grasped me in his arms, and the servants
at the same moment caught the screaming and struggling
dueña Indignation and the spirit of my father returned
upon me. I sternly asked him what he wanted, for
that if it was my money and jewels they were at his
service. He replied that he was aware that I had not
so mistaken his object; that I could not but have conjectured
by whom, and for what purpose he was employed.
Lest I should still doubt, he told me that he was
ordered to convey me safely and respectfully, if I would
allow him, to Xalapa, there to meet my affianced husband;
that he was instructed to explain so much of his
object in order to allay any unfounded apprehensions,
and to set my mind at ease as to my destination. That
for the rest, he hoped I would enter the carriage that
waited for me, cheerfully, when I knew his purpose;
for in that case he was charged to use his best and most
respectful exertions to render the journey pleasant.
But that his commands were positive, and his business
urgent, admitting neither hesitation nor delay; and that
his instructions were to bring me to his Excellency at
Xalapa, respectfully, if I would, or forcibly if he must;
and he begged me to fix upon the alternative. I am too happy to write to any being but you, and I
begin to credit the old saw, which asserts that happiness
makes us selfish. I left myself at the close of my last,
along with my general, at Xalapa. Instead of two
hours which he promised me, he staid until late at night.
Before he left me, he arranged the terms by a message,
on which I might stay at the Carmelite convent in that
city, as long as he occupied it with his troops. Protestant
and heretic as they held him, he has present power,
and, I fear me, that is the divinity most devoutly worshipped
here, as elsewhere. He promises the sisterhood
protection. He stations a guard without the walls, and
is to be admitted within them at any hour that he
chooses. They are to afford the shelter of their sanctuary
to me, until he carries me back in triumph to Mexico.
The convent is a sweet place, the exact retirement
for a mind and a heart like mine. It is in valley,
like a sweet isle sheltered in a sea of mountains. Here
are fine oaks, the sure indications of health. It has
orange groves, and the delicious fruits and flowers of
every clime. Amidst its bowers run a number of beautiful
and limpid brooks, chafing over pebbles. Hither I
was removed, escorted by the youthful general and a
select body of troops. At midnight he retired and left
me to the notes of the pealing organ, the midnight
prayers of the sisters, and to communion with my own
thoughts. He returned next day in safety to Xalapa. Don
Pedro was too far in advance of him, to be overtaken.
He immediately selected a garrison and appointed a
commander for this city. He has had news from Sant'
Anna, who has captured Queretaro. Having settled his
arrangements for leaving this city, he spent the greater
part of the day alone with me, in the charming gardens
and groves of the convent, and such a day! A
year of such days would be too much for a state of trial.
The next morning he started with his whole force,
except the garrison, for Mexico. It was a cheering, and
heart-stirring sight, the ceremonial of our leaving,
and I think, intended as a kind of fête for me. The troops
appeared to be in their gayest attire and in high spirits
They filed off in front of the convent gate. The piazza
of the convent was filled with all the gaiety and beauty
of the city. My general rode a spirited white charger,
and many an encomium did the ladies pass upon him
little knowing how my heart concurred in all their
praises. They all admitted he was the finest looking
man they had ever seen. This with ladies is no small
praise. As he came up in front and doffed his military
cap and waved his plumes, there was a corresponding
waving of handkerchiefs, and fair hands, and a general
shout of Viva la Republica, and Viva el Capitan Liberador.
He dismounted and came up to the gate, which
was thrown open for the occasion, kissed the hand of
the prioress and other religious sisters, and asked their
prayers for the success of his cause. The prioress presented
him with a consecrated handkerchief. which
received with a respectful address, and what surpris
them most, was not his uncommon beauty of form and
person, nor his gallant and dignified bearing as an officer,
but that he bowed like a king, spoke the true Castilian,
and kissed the hand of the prioress, like a devout
catholic. I confess, that a little pride mixed with the
love in my heart, when he came to me in the presence
of such a concourse, and begged the honor of escorting
me to Mexico, and to my mother. Some in my case, and feeling as I do, would odiously
affect indifference and tranquillity and all that. But I
confess I am impatient with the tedious progress of these
miserable negotiations. The cities and the provinces
are all leaving the standard of the Emperor, and my
father's countenance brightens daily, for he too, has become
a Patriot; and it is quite amusing to hear one of
the most ancient grandees of the Spanish monarchy,
talking about liberty and the rights of man, as if a thing
of very recent discovery. The Emperor has made the
Patriot general proposals, and the papers are all brought
to my future husband. I tremble even now, as I read
the hated name of the minister of war, signed at the bottom.
How everlastingly tedious are these miserable
politicians; and they will spin out the simplest trifle to a
volume. I have the satisfaction, however, to perceive
that the good man is as impatient and as much vexed at
this delay, as I am. He says nothing about it, and sturdily
continues the air of self-control and the affectation
of philosophy. But I see by his manner that he will be
glad when all this business is settled. I am glad that it
vexes him. We love to see that others have no more
philosophy than ourselves. Why should I complain
we constantly pass the day together, and we chat like
old acquaintances. Instead of fighting the enemy with
guns and swords, we fight with proclamations and long
speeches. It is a hard thing to keep these stupid gen
erals from quarrelling among themselves. My general
is constantly throwing water on their fire. Sant' Ann
confessed to my father to-day, that but for the North
American general, they would all fall together by the
ears, and the cause would fail. This evening is to see me no longer Doña de Alvaro.
My hand trembles, and if the characters which I trace
are a little flurried, I hope you will pardon me, for you
have passed through the same ordeal. Let me tell you
something about these important arrangements. I well
remember and can produce your account of this same
business to me in three whole sheets. I will have more
conscience with you. First then, the Bishop of Mexico
is to solemnize the wedding. He is a venerable man,
dignified and unblameable in the discharge of his holy
functions, and has retained the confidence and respect
of all parties. He could never be prevailed on to take
any part in the usurpation of the Emperor. He has always
been a friend of my father's, and is known to incline
in his feelings towards the Patriots. Secondly, we
are to be publicly married in the church of `Nuestra
Senora de Guadaloupe,' my patroness, and Laura is to
be bridemaid. Poor little thing, her bosom beats almost
as mine! The day, too, is my birth-day! What a singular
coincidence! Thirdly, my father being president
of the provincial junta, there is to be a general illumination.
Fourthly, immediately after my return to my father's
house, Bryan is to be married to a pretty Irish
girl, whom he has found here in the city. Lastly, the
first and last wish of my duena's heart is to be gratified
in her being immediately after married to Matteo
Tonato, the stoutest man in my father's establishment,
and the bridegroom and the bride have charged
themselves with the expense of a shanty for the one
and a casa for the other. The whole is to conclude
with a splendid tertulia and fandango. I shall wish
all this matter in the Red sea. It is all over. I will give you the details in their order.
Just as the sun was setting, my mother and Laura,
and two other distinguished young ladies of the city,
were assisted by the bridegroom into the state coach.
Thirty coaches of invited guests followed. The whole
was escorted by a select body of troops, lately under
the command of my husband. At the head of the procession
was my father accompanied by the Conde de
Serra and the first officers of the Junta. Military
music, firing of cannon, and ringing of bells marked the
commencement of the procession. At the door of the
magnificent church we were received by the Bishop
and the priesthood of the city, all in their most solemn
robes of office. The church, was full to overflowing,
and adorned with evergreens, and covered quite to the
centre of its vaulted dome with that profusion of splendid
flowers in which our city abounds. We walked on
flowers up to the altar. The bridegroom conducted himself
with his usual dignity and calmness, and, after all, the
ceremony was so imposing, and the duties assumed of a
character so formidable, that I felt myself trembling and
faint, and should have conducted myself foolishly but for
the sustaining manner and countenance of my husband.
Amidst clouds of incense, the pious minister, dressed in
robes of the purest white, performed the solemn services
of this Sacrament, and we both pronounced our vows in
a firm and decided voice, after the manner of those who
had meditated the duties of this relation, and resolved to
be faithful to them. The moment the vows were pronounced,
we were literally covered with flowers, and
saluted with vivas from every quarter of the church.
My mother and father embraced and kissed me; and
my husband, you know, had now acquired the right to do
so. Laura too, kissed me, and whispered me, when
returned from the States, to bring her just such a husband,
as mine. The Bishop led me back through the
aisle of the church, and gave me his benediction at the
door. The organ was pealing its grand symphonies, a
I was assisted into my carriage. The city, as we drove
back, was one dazzling mass of illumination. On all
sides was the gaiety of fête, and I much fear of drunk
enness. To my great relief after a night of so much fête and
gaiety, we were entirely en famille in the morning. I
dreaded to see company, and could have chosen to spend
the day alone with my husband. But immediately after
breakfast drove up the Conde's coach. A card was
handed me from Laura, requesting the pleasure of a
drive with me. I sent her for word, that, unless she was
disposed to give a place to my husband, she must positively
excuse me. The message back was, that if he
chose to accompany me back, so much the better. He
consented to accompany me, and the drive was a pleasant
one, except that occasionally when my husband
looked another way, Laura gave me looks so wickedly
and impertinently inquisitive, that I was obliged to assume
matronly airs, look grave, and show her all the
difference in deportment, between a wife and a spinster.
But she is really a most forward child, and answered me
by looks of such merry defiance back again, that I see
nothing will cure her but to be able to put on the same
official dignity herself. I have received your kind letter and the beautiful
rosary accompanying it. I thank you a thousand times
for your kind wishes. I have no apprehension on the
score on which you warn me. I have no terrors of the
weather getting duller after honey moon, as you call it,
VOL. II. 22 *
I only fear that this more intimate view of things will
inspire an idolatry too blind, and that I shall only be
too much tempted to surrender my judgment and my reason
to the keeping of another. When I loved him at a
distance, I knew but the half of his deserts. You must
see the manner, and the motive, that he carries with him
to the sanctuary of our privacy; you must walk and
ride with him, as I do; you must catch his eye as we
scramble together up the mountains, or listen to his conversation
as we sail together on these sweet lakes; in
short you must find him, as I do most full, and rich, and
delightful in that “dear spot, our home,” to do full justice
to his character. Let the Stoics preach that this
life never does, or can yield any thing, but satiety and
disappointment. I know better on experience. I could
live happily on the treasured recollection of the few days
we have had together, for a whole year. If I ever hear
foolish girls affecting to be witty again, as I have so often
heard them before, in declaiming against the wedded
life—by the way, you and I know, with how much
sincerity they do it—I will say to them, “Foolish girls, this
talk is all stuff.” Be married to worthy men as soon as
possible. I have experienced more enjoyment in a day
since marriage, than in a year before. Indeed my
duena seems another sort of person, she is so happy; and
Bryan too, in his strange way, eulogizes matrimony,
and his red-cheeked and yellow-haired spouse blushes
her consent. I am so much the more delighted with the regularity
of your correspondence, as I know you have so many
important occupations. You still express curiosity to
hear from me, though I have passed that dread bourne
where all curiosity and interest generally cease. But I
feel that the energies of my affections, so far from having
become paralyzed by having passed this bourne, have
become more unchanging and more powerful. My conscience
tells me it is a duty to write to you so long as
you feel any desire to hear from me. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 15 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fanny, or, The hunchback and the roué | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | The Charles river flows through many a sweet vale in its
inland meanderings; mirrors upon its bosom many a dark hill of
wood and rock; conveys beauty and grace to many a fair scene of
upland and lowland; and flows calmly and brightly past many a
peaceful cot and pleasant village! But the vale of Rose Mead is
the fairest of all its vallies; its banks and wooded heights the
most beautiful, which it mirrors upon its bosom; the fairest of all
others are its scenes of upland and lowland; more peaceful the
cottage-homes which share its grace and beauty; and, lovelier
than all the pleasant villages past which it flows in calmness and
brightness, is that of Hillside. I have at last seen the ideal of all that my most glowing fancy
has pictured, woman! I have within the half hour, beheld the realization
of all the beautiful creations of my imagination, when I
have loved to conceive in my thoughts, the beautiful, the true and
the good in one! Such a face as has ever appeared in my happiest
dreams of boyhood, when forms of love and beauty would float
around me; and when I heard her speak the tones were familiar,
like the voices of the beautiful ones who have spoken to me in my
hours of fancy! But you are full of curiosity to know who I have
seen! That I cannot tell, for her history is a mystery. She is an
orphan. I saw her in the yard of the Inn in this village, as I alighted
from my horse! Her beauty and grace, had an effect upon me
that was irresistible! You well know, dear, good mother, that I am
not susceptible, and that few females have drawn from me expressions
of admiration! you know I am not easily impressable by
mere female loveliness.' She was conveying a burden, all too
weighty for her strength, and I tendered my assistance, which she
thanked me for with a sweet, yet timid, gratitude that went to my
heart. Her mistress, the hostess, observed the act and my sympathy,
and poured upon me a torrent of invectives, saying the cruel task
was imposed upon the maiden by her orders! She was a virago,
and I saw was a tyrant. My heart bled for the young girl; and
of one near by I inquired her history. He told me that her parents
had arrived from England during the cholera season, and had died
in the village; when the landlord of the Inn, now dead, had adopted
her; but that since his decease the widow had made a servant
of her. He said the parents were evidently very genteel people,
but that no one knew their names, and that the child only went by
that of `Fanny.' I have met her—spoken with her, and—but I will not anticipate.
I must forestal your opinion, at the first, that `she could not be a
discreet maiden to meet a stranger.' She got my note, but did not
meet me in consequence of it. So rigidly is she kept at labor that
she had no opportunity to learn its contents till the moon rose,
when she stole out by her mother's grave, to open it by moonlight.
I saw her graceful figure kneeling by the grave-side, for I had been
lingering near, with hope, and approached near enough to hear her
soliloquize upon the contents of my note. I heard her say, `no,
no, I may not meet him—kind, generous as he seems to be. No—
I cannot accede to his request!' I drew nearer, and she recognized
me, and would have fled. But I detained her with gentle
and eloquent appeal. She grew trusting and remained to listen to
me. I urged her to fly her bondage, and offered her, dear mother,
your protection. But she was firm—but finally promised, if some
evil which she did not name, but which she dreaded would come
upon her, should befal her, she would then avail herself of my
proffer of your roof, if you came for her; and this you must do.—
What propriety in all her conduct! But if I was charmed with her
sweet, maidenly modesty, I was enchanted with the character of
her lovely and natural mind. I wish you could have heard her
speak her thoughts. Her language is pure and singularly expressive
of every shade of feeling. She is an extraordinary character,
and I wish you to see and know her. The study—a brief but sweet
lesson it was—of her mind to-night, has opened to me a new world
of beauty. She is as pure and guileless as a child of seven—yet
she is seventeen or eighteen. She soon grew more confiding, and
opened her soul's treasures to me. What a mine of unworked
gold lay in the foundation of her being. She is a very gentle and
single spirit. She talked in a strange, sweet, low voice, like one
musing aloud, and I listened breathless, as to pure and spiritual
communication. Her words recalled the thoughts and hopes of
my early years, and such as I love to indulge when in my better
hours. I thought then, as I listened, 'tis for such thoughts as
these, alone, we exist. How wide the contrast of their singleness
with the double-minded wordiness of the cautious and courteous
world. She is a wild, beautiful, gentle creature; for these opposite
terms just suit her. She is heart-aspiring, and loves to soar
into the new and the unrealized. She is full of fanciful memories,
and discourses sweetly and gravely of what she calls her `Fanciful
Life.' You should listen to her to know her. Blessings on her
generous and confiding heart; blessings on her delightful fancy,
which creates only to love. Let her trust in them to the end, and
without end, whilst they are so pure and hallowing. I have heard
that gigantic thinker, R. Waldo Emerson, say, `nothing is so natural
as the supernatural.' The body stands in the soul's light, and
casts a shadow upon it, and the world of minds is in twilight kept
out of its best powers and possessions. This pure, artless girl has
it always sunshine at her heart. One pure spirit broods over all
her thoughts. Her existence seems divine in human. She lives
in an ideal world of ever changing beauty, and every word she utters
enriches the soul of the listener. But most I value her for is
the loveliness of her piety. There is a holy and perpetual Sabbath
at her heart which is the house of peace. You will say, my dear
mother, that such a person may be a shrine fit, perhaps, to receive
the votaries of worshippers of the ideal and the beautiful, but not
a suitable friend and companion for common life. But this peace
and heart-spirituality is consistent with the most useful activity.—
Here is the piety of character, not of habit. I love the seclusion
of her spirit—the gentle fancies of her inner life—the fresh upspringings
of her untaught thoughts which come from unfathomed
fountains in her soul. teryble materss iss hapendd sinss you wass heer vitch iss wot
korses me phor too tak mi penn inn han witch iss a badd wunn
andd so i hop youle xkus thee spelinn andd itts thiss wot's hapendd
Phany hass loped andd I cutt Gon Hamersmith chin andd he nokt
Snipp our tayllur ovr inntu mi slopp tubb but ile tel you thee pertiklars
ov wots hapendd Snipp tels itt furs tu mee andd i cuts Gon
the smyth andd hee noks himm ovurr phannys run awa andd noe
mystak cozz thee roape wos foun she hangd hurselff with oute ov
thee widers 2 stora windur and itt wos foun ther andd shee wosnt
foun andd thatts wots hapendd andd itts inn ev boddis mouth
andd noe bodi noes wots beekum ov hur, norr i Snipp sedd a
koche tuk hurr off, butt thatts wun ov Snippes lise andd hes a
grat lierr andd dyrnks vich i donte, nott nevur taikin butt wun
tum'lar ov agg-popp—no twass jinger popp, wich gutt inter mi
hedd wich iss troo forr i sorr hur traks undur thee windurr andd
thee bedd kordd twass 12 larste nite wen shee runn awa andd itss
nou 01 inn the phoarnun i maik no dela butt rite rite orf hopin
yool com rite doune orr rite orr heare phrom phahny phor thars
no mistaik shes sloapt. After the most persevering efforts I have at last got on the scent of the
hare. A person answering her description came in town the morning after
the night you said she escaped in a stage, and got out at the tavern in Brattle
street. She was seen to go into a negro's in Ethiopian Row, and then
to go out with him up the street. I have been in the black's, whose name
is Pompey Slack; but he is as mysterious as a fortune-teller, and gravely
shakes his woolly head, and wants to know my business `wid her.' Your
money will get it out of him. I send, as you instructed me to do, a carriage
for you; call for me, and I will accompany you there. I am sure we
are on the track. I reply to your letters in one. I cannot yet visit you. My mind is made
up to prosecute this search. Since I wrote you of her escape I have been
to Hillside, but could glean no intelligence of her. I, however, saw there
a person whom I suspect has had something to do with her flight. If so, I
despair! I have been seeking him at his house, and every where, to accuse
him, and demand her at his hands, and to punish him if she be lost to me,
which God forbid. I hope every thing, yet I fear every thing. He is in
town but keeps himself close. I am more and more persuaded that he has
something to do with her flight, and that she has been deceived. I rode
hard after him the night he left Hillside, but could not overtake him before
he reached town. If I had have done so, I should have known all; for I
would have drawn the truth from him with his life. He is one of those despicable
wretches, who, aided by wealth and leisure, and being destitute of
principle, pass all their time in seeking the indulgence of the lowest vices,
and directing all their skill and talent to ensnaring the young and beautiful
of your sex. I go out again to pursue my inquiries, though with little hope
of success. That she is in Boston I know, for such a person was seen at
the inn to get out of one of the stages; and while I write she is probably
in the snares of this heartless scoundrel. But hope of the best buoys me
up. She is too lovely and pure for me to harbor the idea of her ruin. I
will write you again; but do not ask me to visit you or study till I have pursued
this matter to the end. I am once more going to the tavern in Brattle
street, to seek a clue. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 16 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fleming Field, or, The young artisan | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | THE soft, roseate haze of an autumnal sunset was just deepening
into the obscurity of twilight, as a young man came forth from
the door of a humble dwelling that stood in a narrow court not
far from Cornhill. The air was mild, and not a breath moved the
scarlet leaves of the maple that overshadowed the lowly roof of the
house. There was a little yard in front between the step and the
court, which was ornamented by a few shrubs and plants, and by
each side of the door stoop were three or four pots of geraniums and
rose-trees. These were green and fragrant, and the former were in
flower, thus betraying careful nurture, while all else in the yard was
feeling the first touch of autumn. The two round plats of closely
shaven grass, not larger than a chaise wheel, with the circular paths
around them, were strewn and filled with dead leaves, which rustled
to the tread of the youth, as he passed with a quick step from the
door to the latticed gate. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 17 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Forrestal, or, The light of the reef | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | The loftier turrets of the Moro Castle were still
sheathed with gold, from the reflection of the setting
sun, while its embrasures and bastions lower down —
its walls, still lower — and the harbor and town, far
beneath, lay in the soft shadows of the first tremulous
twilight. A moment more, and the last sunbeam disappeared,
like a blaze suddenly extinguished, from the
topmost pinnacle of the cloud-capped fortress; and the
simultaneous roar of a heavy piece of ordnance, from
the platform of the Castle, told the world of Havana
that the sun had set. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 18 | Author: | Flint
Timothy
1780-1840 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Francis Berrian, or, The Mexican patriot | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | In the autumn of this year I set out from Massachusetts
for the remote regions of the southwest on the
Spanish frontier, where I reside. When I entered the
steam-boat from Philadelphia to Baltimore, having taken
a general survey of the motley group, which is usually
seen in such places, my eye finally rested on a young
gentleman, apparently between twenty-five and thirty,
remarkable for his beauty of face, the symmetry of his
fine form, and for that uncommon union of interest,
benevolence, modesty, and manly thought, which are
so seldom seen united in a male countenance of great
beauty. The idea of animal magnetism, I know, is
exploded. I, however, retain my secret belief in the
invisible communication between minds, of something
like animal magnetism and repulsion. I admit that this
electric attraction of kindred minds at first sight, and
antecedent to acquaintance, is inexplicable. The world
may laugh at the impression, if it pleases. I have,
through life, found myself attracted, or repelled at first
sight, and oftentimes without being able to find in the
objects of these feelings any assignable reason, either
for the one or the other. I have experienced, too,
that, on after acquaintance, I have very seldom had
occasion to find these first impressions deceptive. It is
of no use to inquire, if these likes and dislikes be the
result of blind and unreasonable prejudice. I feel that
they are like to follow me through my course. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 19 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Freemantle, or, The privateersman! | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | The scenes of the following story are laid about the beautiful shores and
among the pleasant islands of Boston Bay, near the close of the last war with
Great Britain. This contest, it will be remembered, was remarkably characterised
for the great number, boldness and success of the privateers which
sailed out of the New England ports and covered every sea whitened by British
commerce. `Hebert Vincent, late midshipman in the Navy of the United States, having
deserted his ship at Newport, is dismissed from the service; his expulsion to
take effect from the 14th inst. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 20 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The free-trader, or, The cruiser of Narragansett Bay | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Our story opens in the harbor and
town of Newport in the “Old Colony
Days.” At the period in which we
shall lay the scenes of our romance, this
town was second in New England only
to Boston in wealth and commercial
importance. Its trade was far more extensive
than it is at the present day,
and was mainly carried on with the
West Indies and Spain, with its dependencies,
in vessels of all classes from
the shallop of twenty tons to the imposing
merchant-ship. Its merchants
were enterprising and intelligent, and
rivalled those of Boston in the opulence
of their style of living and show of state.
They dressed in velvet on holidays and
Sundays, and in their counting-rooms
wore ruffles of lace and powdered curls. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 21 | Author: | EDITED BY
A Son of Temperance. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The fountain and the bottle | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | By Father Frane. “My dear Daughter,—As I write this, you are
playing about my room, a happy child, and all unconscious
of the great loss you will soon have to bear in
the death of your mother. Not long have I now to
remain upon the earth. The sands in my glass have
run low; the life-blood in my heart is ebbing; a few
more fluttering pulses, and my spirit will take its
flight from earth.—Ah, my child! not until you are
yourself a mother, can you understand how I am distressed
at the thought of leaving you alone in this
selfish and cruel world! But I will not linger on
this theme. “Mr. Guzzler,—Dear Sir:—I find that it won't
be convenient for me to lend you the money we
talked about. In fact, to tell the plain truth, I hardly
think it prudent to risk any thing with a man who
neglects his business. No one who lies in bed until
eleven or twelve in the morning, need expect to get
along. Pardon this freedom; but he is the best
friend, generally, who speaks the plainest. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 22 | Author: | Myers
P. Hamilton
(Peter Hamilton)
1812-1878 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The first of the Knickerbockers | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | The great State of New York, rejoicing now in its
separate sovereignty, and in its vast metropolis, the
conceded capital of the western world, and vieing in
resources, both of money and muscles, with the old
nations of Europe, seems scarce possibly the same
which, less than two centuries ago, was the colonial
appendage alternately of England and Holland, and
but lightly valued by either. But let it not lower thy
honest pride, oh vaunted Empire State! to remember
those earlier days, when, in the shuttlecock state of
thy existence, thou wast bandied about from owner
to owner, now seized by force, and now a mere makeweight,
thrown in to settle some more important bargain.
And thou, oh gorgeous city of Manhattan!
mart of nations! blush not to own thy former self in
a small provincial town, clustered around its parent
fortress, to carry out the pleasing illusion of protection
beneath its dread armament of sixteen frowning
guns. Formidable at least were they to the prowling
savage, lurking in undiscovered haunts, where now
the tide of human life rolls thickest, and where loudest
comes the busy hum of commerce to the ear. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 24 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Father Abbot, or, The home tourist | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | The members of the Monastery—our merry
Monks of the Moon—had accomplished a third
rubber of whist, when it was perceptible that a
general cloud of gravity—it would be irreverent
to call it dulness—had fallen upon the assembly.
Our excellent Father Abbot himself was detected
in a most expansive yawn, showing an extremity
of condition such as had never befallen him before.
We had our Jester, but he failed, in a laboured
effort, to provoke the merriment of the order at
the expense of our venerable head; and we were
fast sinking into that state of collapse, which betokens
dissolution and departure in social as in
human bodies, when our excellent Father Abbot
startled the brotherhood into sudden vitality, by
an exclamation as unnatural in his case as it was
uncongenial with the faith professed by the fraternity. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 26 | Author: | Smith
Richard Penn
1799-1854 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The forsaken | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | More than half a century ago, there stood in Darby,
a small village near Philadelphia, an humble inn, denominated
“The Hive;” which name the house acquired
in consequence of a rude sign, that yielding to every
blast of wind, creaked in front of the building; although
one who was not a connoisseur in painting, might have
mistaken the hive for a hay-cock, and the bees for
partridges, had not the ingenious artist, to prevent all
mistakes of this nature, judiciously painted, in capital
letters, the name of his design, which at once put an
end to the illiberal cavilling of such critics as could
decipher the alphabet. You may judge of the extent of my perplexities when
I apply to you for pecuniary assistance. Were you in
funds you would be the first I should apply to, but in
your present circumstances you should be the last.
But, as I do not know what fortune may have done for
you since our last interview, I have ventured to make
known my distresses to you. I have an insuperable
objection to my father's becoming acquainted with the
cause of my present embarrassment, and have therefore
employed every means to extricate myself before
a knowledge of the circumstance shall reach him. To
change the subject, I feel that I should fight the battles
of my king with better heart, if my earliest and best
friend were still by my side. Reflect again upon the
nature of the contest; reflect, I beseech you, until you
view it in the light that it is viewed by “Meet me at the sign of the Crooked Billet, on the
evening of the first of October, as I have something to
communicate that concerns you nearly. Fail not to be
punctual. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 27 | Author: | Baldwin
Joseph G.
(Joseph Glover)
1815-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The flush times of Alabama and Mississippi | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | And what history of that halcyon period, ranging from the
year of Grace, 1835, to 1837; that golden era, when shin-plasters
were the sole currency; when bank-bills were “as
thick as Autumn leaves in Vallambrosa,” and credit was a
franchise,—what history of those times would be complete,
that left out the name of Ovid Bolus? As well write the
biography of Prince Hal, and forbear all mention of Falstaff.
In law phrase, the thing would be a “deed without a
name,” and void; a most unpardonable casus omissus. My Dear Sir,—Having established, at great expense,
and from motives purely patriotic and disinterested, a monthly
periodical for the purpose of supplying a desideratum in
American Literature, namely, the commemoration and perpetuation
of the names, characters, and personal and professional
traits and histories of American lawyers and jurists, I
have taken the liberty of soliciting your consent to be made
the subject of one of the memoirs, which shall adorn the columns
of this Journal. This suggestion is made from my
knowledge, shared by the intelligence of the whole country,
of your distinguished standing and merits in our noble profession;
and it is seconded by the wishes and requests of
many of the most prominent gentlemen in public and private
life, who have the honor of your acquaintance. Dear Sir—I got your letter dated 18 Nov., asking me
to send you my life and karackter for your Journal. Im
obleeged to you for your perlite say so, and so forth. I got
a friend to rite it—my own ritin being mostly perfeshunal.
He done it—but he rites such a cussed bad hand I cant rede
it: I reckon its all korrect tho'. My Dear Sir—The very interesting sketch of your life
requested by us, reached here accompanied by your favor of
the 1st inst., for which please receive our thanks. Dear Mr. Editor—In your p. s. which seems to be the
creem of your correspondents you say I can't get in your
book without paying one hundred and fifty dollars—pretty
tall entrants fee! I suppose though children and niggers
half price—I believe I will pass. I'll enter a nolly prossy
q. O-n-e-h-u-n-d-r-e-d dollars and fifty better! Je-whellikens! We can only give it in our way, and only such parts as
we can remember, leaving out most of the episodes, the casual
explanations and the slang; which is almost the play of
Hamlet with the Prince of Denmark omitted. But, thus
emasculated, and Cave's gas let off, here goes a report about
as faithful as a Congressman's report of his spoken eloquence
when nobody was listening in the House. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 28 | Author: | Cooke
John Esten
1830-1886 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fairfax, or, The master of Greenway Court | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | ON an evening of October, in the year 1748, the
slopes of the Blue Ridge at Ashby's Gap were all
ablaze with the red light of the sinking sun. “Mr. Falconbridge:—After much doubt I address you,
to warn you, as a friend, against allowing your affections to be ensnared
by Miss B. Argal. I have no right, sir, to pry into your matters, and
maybe I will get no thanks, but your courtesy to me makes it impossible
for me to see you duped. Captain Wagner will not speak out—he
says that he has already said more than he had a right to—and I will,
therefore, do so myself. The paper which I put in this letter will tell
you all. The poor young man was a distant relative of mine, and died
at my house. He wrote the paper just before his death. I will add no
more, except that I have no private grudge against Miss Argal, and so
remain, “I am about to commit suicide. Before putting an end to my miserable
life, I will relate the circumstances which impel me to the act. My
mind is perfectly sane, my memory good—I will speak calmly. This is
my history: “The poor young man was found dead when we ran at
the explosion of his pistol. This paper was lying on the
table. Mr. Harley Austin returned it to me, not wishing to
keep it; he has since left the country.” “I desire, and if necessary require that the prisoner Powell may be
treated with all respect, and especially brought to Court without hand-cuffs. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 30 | Author: | Hall
Baynard Rush
1798-1863 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Frank Freeman's barber shop | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Our southern coast, as the reader doubtless knows,
is fringed with a net-work of islands, many of which
have not yet a growth sufficient for introduction to
a school atlas. Some of these miniature lands are
not inhabited and rarely visited; while others are,
at certain seasons, resorts for “marooning”—a picnic
sort of life passed for weeks in extemporaneous
sheds of boards and canvas. A few of the islets
are large enough for one or more plantations; and,
hence, are like immense gardens in which are embowered
lordly mansions with spacious lawns in
front and comfortable “quarters” at convenient
distances—a negro village of neat cabins, usually
white-washed, and always each surrounded with its
own domain of truck-patch, and boasting of its henhouse,
pig-pen, and other offices. “Nephew, I send $2,000—I know your scruples.
But I will positively take no denial. See here—
don't refuse the additional—I'll pitch it in the fire, if
you send any back. You'll have it hard enough
with the remaining $2,000. “Edward, my dearest:—May the Lord sustain
you!—and He will. But we have both been long
prepared for this:—Dr. Jordan thinks there is no
hope of my life beyond next summer! Edward!
can we not meet once—the last? And your dear
wife—my much beloved—my only daughter, since
Sophia preceded me home!—will she not come
again? Ah! Edward! if I might go to my rest—
in your arms and hers! “Edward! oh, Edward!—I would—but, no! no!
you never can believe me now! I call God to witness—I
never, no never, loved any but you—I love
none other now! By the unutterable agony of my
frenzied soul, do not for God's sake, oh! do not
curse me!.... Good God! can it be possible!
I did not mean it! I know not why I did
it! I have not—I have not! I will not! Oh! say,
Edward! is it not a dream?—wake me from it!
Forgive, forgive, forgive me! Bid me come and
lie down at your feet and die! Call me only once
by the dear name—and then kill me! Oh! why,
why did you not command me to stay ever near
you! You were to blame—no! no! how dare I reproach?
One trial, Edward—but one! I would
give the universe—I would give my life—God knows
I would—to stand where I did for a moment....
Vain! I cannot—cannot!—I am going mad!....
But I am not—I am not so fallen! I will not so
fall! I will leap into the sea first!..... Stay!
don't curse me! Pray for me! Yes, yes, I that
laughed at prayer, now with deep groanings of my
soul, and with my face in the dust call on you, Edward!
my wronged husband, and as a minister of
Christ, to pray for me. I am penitent—I have not
sinned—I will die rather! I will plunge into the
ocean. Oh! dear Edward!—husband, dear husband!
and for the last, I write those sacred words—
farewell, farewell!” “Rev. and very dear Brother:—I remain, this
year, at Point Lookout, where we shall establish our
new paper. It is to be called “The Scarifier and
Renovator.” I expect to edit awhile, myself. We'll
make an impression on the soul-killers. Besides, I
can do a vast amount of good here, in other ways.
I have been instrumental, by the blessing of God, in
freeing more than twenty-five, since my last, in
March! Most of them, with a little help from my
secret assistants in the lower countries, succeeded
(you will be rejoiced to learn) in bringing off property
enough to pay expenses, and afford a handsome
remuneration. I forwarded the poor fugitives to the
old fellow—you know where. “Master!—a dear name yet—though I appear as
a traitor!—a name I shall ever love, even if my new
friends(?) constrain me to use their cold language.
Yes, dear master! you knew me better than I know
myself: you would never let me vow! Oh! I remember
that one sermon—`Is thy servant a dog,
that he should do this thing?' They look on me as
noble and free!—alas!—I feel myself a slave now,
and worse than before; I have become in my own
eyes `a dog!'—I have done it. “Rev. and dear Sharpinton:—My soul is fairly
on fire—it fairly cries out, `Away with the accursed
slavers from the earth!' Oh, heavens! doctor,
they've killed our Somerville; and in defence of his
press! Freedom!—where's our right to publish the
truth—the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?
Don't tell me of freedom! Union or no union!
down with the gag-loving, press-muzzling, slavery-aiding,
colonization-scheming, God-defying, double-dyed,
negro-lashing, humanity-crushing, base, grovelling,
truckling villains, that, in face of the sun, will
assault and pull down a printing-office, and pitch the
types into the street, and shoot down, spite of law,
justice, and rights of man, the noble Somerville, and
standing to defend his rights! It hadn't ought to be
the 19th century! no, it hadn't ought to!— I
know it cannot be done; but, still, follow me, ye
friends of the poor, down-trodden, brute-degraded,
blood-squeezed, and sweat-defrauded sons of Africa!
oh! ye men of tried souls, ye true Americans, and
we will drive the accursed South into the earth-girdling
ocean! I did you a great, a very great wrong—and I am
very sorry for it. And yet I always more than half
believed you must be true. God be thanked—that
dear Edward redeemed you—how would I now feel,
if that infernal dealer had got you!—poor Edward,
how he looked when he got my note and bid up the
$4,000! “* * I told uncle I would write about Sarah
—your dear mother. She died many months ago,
and very suddenly, and full six weeks before we left
the north or arrived at Evergreen. And while you
now mourn that you can never see her again—yet
15
you will rejoice your oversight had nothing to do
with her death. God, Frank, is kind to his people,
that they may not have over much sorrow! | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 31 | Author: | Howells
William Dean
1837-1920 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | A foregone conclusion | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | As Don Ippolito passed down the long narrow
calle or footway leading from the Campo San
Stefano to the Grand Canal in Venice, he peered
anxiously about him: now turning for a backward
look up the calle, where there was no living thing
in sight but a cat on a garden gate; now running
a quick eye along the palace walls that rose vast on
either hand and notched the slender strip of blue
sky visible overhead with the lines of their jutting
balconies, chimneys, and cornices; and now glancing
toward the canal, where he could see the
noiseless black boats meeting and passing. There
was no sound in the calle save his own footfalls and
the harsh scream of a parrot that hung in the sunshine
in one of the loftiest windows; but the note
of a peasant crying pots of pinks and roses in the
campo came softened to Don Ippolito's sense, and
he heard the gondoliers as they hoarsely jested together
and gossiped, with the canal between them,
at the next gondola station. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 32 | Author: | Jones
J. B.
(John Beauchamp)
1810-1866 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Freaks of fortune, or, The history and adventures of
Ned Lorn | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | It was Christmas eve. The snow was descending
rapidly. Gusts of wind howled mournfully through the
streets, and ever and anon they burst from the alleys and
narrow courts in explosions. Many a face was turned
quickly away from the rude blasts of the storm in the
vain endeavor to escape their unfriendly peltings. But
it might not be. Every street had its pedestrians. From
the Delaware to the Schuylkill; from the grimly frowning
Moyamensing prison to the extreme northern limits of the
environs of Philadelphia; human beings might have been
seen passing with unceasing tramp along the pavements.
Some on business; some in quest of pleasure, and others—
poor miserable creatures!—because they were destitute of
homes; unfortunate outcasts, relying upon some chance
occurrence for the means of shelter. And, perhaps, a
majority of these were females, with delicate cheeks and
throbbing hearts; and yet with light and tattered garments;
no sufficient covering to protect their heads from
the howling frost-laden blasts; and no effectual defences
for their feet against the chilling snow. “My dear Ned—I was pained to learn the nature of
your note to Mr. Lonsdale. If I had been acquainted
with the character of its contents, I should not have been
the bearer of it. It was, however, a mere indiscretion on
your part, superinduced by provocations sufficient to have
tempted almost any young man to commit a far greater
extravagance. I have seen and conversed with Lonsdale,
and have undertaken to say that the matter will not be referred
to again on your part. Indeed I have withdrawn
the offensive note, and doubt not the act will be sanctioned
by you, since you have had ample time to meditate deliberately
on the subject. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 33 | Author: | Mitchell
Donald Grant
1822-1908 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fudge doings | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | I MUST confess that I feel diffident in entering
upon the work which I have taken in hand.
Very few know what it is to assume the position
that I now occupy; viz., endeavoring to entertain
the public with a record of the observations, fancies,
history, and feelings of one's own family. Many people
do this in a quiet way; but I am not aware that
it has heretofore been undertaken in the unblushing
manner which I propose to myself. “Mr. Fudge will much consult his own advantage
in abstaining from the imposition of any more
of his drunken and impertinent fooleries upon the
society of my daughter. “My dear boy,” she says, “I hope you are quite
well, and have got over the cold in the head you
spoke of. It is charming weather in New-York,
and old Truman Bodgers is dead; died aboard the
Eclipse, which burnt up two weeks ago, and a great
many valuable lives lost, which we regret very
much, making true the words of the Psalmist, which
I hope you read, that in the middle of life death
comes and overtakes us. He has left considerable
property, which your father says will be divided
between Aunt Fleming and myself, which will make
a pretty sum for you by-and-by, being eighty
thousand dollars, as Solomon says, in all. “Cruel! cruel! et vous, mon cher! And can you
think that I would suffer your blood to flow under
the hands of that monstre, whom I will not name?
No! no! I know all. I have detained him, but
only for a little time, perhaps. Will you fly? | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 34 | Author: | Mitchell
Donald Grant
1822-1908 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fudge doings | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | I SHALL open this volume with a few observations
upon an individual, who may possibly
have important relations with the Fudge family:
I refer to Mr. Blimmer, of Blimmersville. Mr.
Blimmer has a very snug office, full of diagrams
of Blimmersville. Indeed, the plots, sites, buildings,
and accounts, of that prospective town
may be said to fill up the office. There is,
among other charts, a beautiful lithograph of
Blimmersville, very attractive, with a proposed
church, and a proposed clergyman's cottage; both
of them highly picturesque, highly Gothic, and
highly flattering to the proposed Christian feeling
of the township—much more flattering, indeed, than
such buildings are apt to be in earnest. “My Dear Washington:—I cannot pay longer
your frequent drafts upon me. My affairs are not
in so good case as at last writing. Practise economy,
and make arrangements to return speedily,
when I hope you will enter immediately upon some
sound business-calling. “My Dear Washy:—I have very much to tell
you. We are terribly disturbed; you have heard
of Mr. Bodgers' death, and how he left no will, as
any one can find. Your father was made administrator,
with Mr. Bivins, and things were going very
well, as we thought, and Kitty would have had a
handsome slice, which would have made her perhaps
to be considered as a match for you, my dear son,
although she is a cousin, when, on a sudden, Mr. Quid,
the father of the young gentleman you know, called
on Mr. Fudge, and, showing him some old papers
he has, which I suppose are testimonials, made a
claim for the whole of the property, and what it all
is, I don't know; and your father is anxious, besides
that; the bank is doing badly, and our expenses
with you and Wilhe are heavy. “My Dear Madam:—Duty compels me to inform
you that the claims of Mr. Quid upon the estate of
your deceased kinsman, Truman Bodgers, Esq., of
which I have already given you brief advisement,
are very strong. He has shown to me, in connection
with my legal adviser, papers which appear to
establish, beyond doubt, the rights of his son, as
heir at law. Deeply distressing as this event must
be to both branches of the Bodgers family, I see
no resource. I would advise you, therefore, to
limit your expenses accordingly, as the usual annuity,
which I believe you have been in the habit of
receiving through the generosity of Mr. Bodgers,
will now be cut off. I trust you will bear the
reverse with resolution. “My Dear Jemima:—I should be very ungrateful
for all your kindness if I forgot to write you, as
I promised I would, and to tell you all about my
country home, which I am so glad to welcome
again. “Letitia, ma Chère Letitia:—After our sudden
parting last summer, so very provoking as it was, I
5*
have been pining away in the Avenue. I am well
enough to be sure, and take a drive every day upon
Broadway with mamma; and the Count is civil and
attentive as usual, and the Spindles are as jealous
as ever (which is some comfort), yet somehow it
seems very dull. Papa has a terribly long face;
more than all, when I ask him for money. Mamma
says he is disturbed about his coal-stocks, and business,
and all that. What a horrid thing business
is! It made us come away from the Springs just
as a good set was forming about mamma; and
there's no hope, I fear, of getting it together again.
How is it, dear Letitia, that people will be very
kind, and chatty, and attentive at the Springs, and
then never come near you in town? I should love
to live at Saratoga, that is, provided the Count
and you, and the rest were there, and the set was
good. “Mr. Blimmer's compliments to Mr. Quid, and
begs to advise him that the instalments now due on
lots Numbers seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty,
twenty-one, etc., in the town of Blimmersville, are
still unpaid: he also begs to advise Mr. Quid
(hoping he will not take offence) of his (Blimmer's)
natural reluctance to place in the hands of
so entire a stranger the original document intrusted
to him by a certain deceased party; he believes,
however, that the writing which he had the honor
to place in Mr. Quid's hands, was a true copy of the
same; and, in the event of pending negotiations
being happily matured, he (Blimmer) would have
no objection to add to it the original instrument. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 35 | Author: | Roe
Edward Payson
1838-1888 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | From jest to earnest | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | ON a cloudy December morning, a gentleman,
two ladies, and a boy, stepped down from the
express train at a station just above the Highlands
on the Hudson. A double sleigh, overflowing with
luxurious robes, stood near, and a portly coachman
with difficulty restrained his spirited horses while
the little party arranged themselves for a winter
ride. Both the ladies were young, and the gentleman's
anxious and almost tender solicitude for one
of them seemed hardly warranted by her blooming
cheeks and sprightly movements. A close observer
might soon suspect that his assiduous attentions
were caused by a malady of his own rather than
indisposition on her part. IT is a common impression that impending disasters
cast their shadows before; and especially in
the realm of fiction do we find that much is made
of presentiments, which are usually fulfilled in a
very dramatic way. But the close observer of real
life, to a large degree, loses faith in these bodings
of ill. He learns that sombre impressions result
more often from a defective digestion and
disquieted conscience than any other cause; and
that, after the gloomiest forebodings, the days pass
in unusual sereneness. Not that this is always
true, but it would almost seem the rule. Perhaps
more distress is caused by those troubles which
never come, but which are feared and worried over,
than by those which do come, teaching us, often,
patience and faith. “Mr. Hemstead, I sincerely ask your forgiveness
for my folly, which you cannot condemn as
severely as I do. Though unworthy, indeed, of your
friendship and esteem, can you believe that I am
not now the weak, wicked creature that I was when
we first met? But I have not the courage to plead
my own cause. I know that both facts and appearances
are against me. I can only ask you,
Who told His disciples to forgive each other,
`seventy times seven'? “My Friend: “I am in receipt of your splendid book. It is full of valuable information,
not only to beginners but to those of the ripest experience. In fact, it is the most elegant in
its illustrations and execution, comprehensive in its investigations, and judicious in its
teachings, of any work on the same subject ever published in our country. More than
this, it is a fine illustration of what industry, intelligence, and devotion can accomplish.
I give it a hearty welcome. Success to `Success with Small Fruits.' | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 36 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The forayers, or, The raid of the dog-days | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | The district of Orangeburg, in South Carolina, constitutes
one of the second tier (from the seaboard) of the political and
judicial divisions or districts of that state. It is a vast plain,
with a surface almost unbroken, in the southern and western
portions, by elevations of any sort. In this region, it is irrigated
by numerous watercourses, rivers, and creeks, that make
their way through swamps of more or less width and density.
These are all thickly covered with a wild and tangled forest-growth,
skirted with great pines, and dwarf-oaks, to say nothing
of a vast variety of shrub-trees; the foliage of which,
massed together by gadding vines, usually presents, in midsummer,
the appearance of a solid wall, impervious to sight and
footstep. “These, old Sinkeler, are to signify that ef you don't surrender
up our friend and brother officer and sodger, Leftenant Joel
Andrews sometimes called `Hell-fire Dick,' of his royal majesty's
regiment of loyal rangers, third company of foragers,
we'll have your heart's blood out of your body, and thar shant
be stick or stone standing of your big house after we've gone
through it. These is to say to you that you must give him up
to the barrer of dispatches, in hafe an hour after you reads 'em,
or you may expeck the eternal vengeance of all consarned. “If he of H— D— [Holly-Dale] is honest, and will
speak the truth, giving proof as he promises, he shall have the
guaranty which he seeks. I will give him the meeting. See
to the arrangemeuts for it as soon as possible. We have reached
that stage of the game, when the loss of a pawn may be
that of a castle; when the gain, even of a pawn, may enable us
to give check-mate to a king! “Let him of H. D. know that I see no reason to depart from
our arrangement as originally made. “I shall take the liberty, my dear Captain Porgy, of bringing
with me a couple of additional guests, in General Greene
and Colonel Lee, knowing that your provision will not only be
ample, but that the taste which usually presides over your banquets
will give to our friends from Rhode Island and Virginia
such a notion of the tastes of Apicius and Lucullus, as certainly
never yet dawned upon them in their own half-civilized regions.
Your own courtesy will do the rest and will, I trust, sufficiently
justify the confidence with which I have insisted upon their
coming. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 39 | Author: | Willis
Nathaniel Parker
1806-1867 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fun-jottings, or, Laughs I have taken a pen to | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | “Where art thou, bridegroom of my soul? Thy Ione S—
calls to thee from the aching void of her lonely spirit! What
name bearest thou? What path walkest thou? How can I,
glow-worm like, lift my wings and show thee my lamp of guiding
love? Thus wing I these words to thy dwelling-place (for thou
art, perhaps, a subscriber to the M—r). Go—truants!
Rest not till ye meet his eye. “Dear Tom: If your approaching nuptials are to be sufficiently
public to admit of a groomsman, you will make me the happiest
of friends by selecting me for that office. “Dear Phil: The devil must have informed you of a secret
I supposed safe from all the world. Be assured I should have
chosen no one but yourself to support me on the occasion; and
however you have discovered my design upon your treasure, a
thousand thanks for your generous consent. I expected no less
from your noble nature. “Sir: I am intrusted with a delicate commission, which I
know not how to broach to you, except by simple proposal.
Will you forgive my abrupt brevity, if I inform you, without further
preface, that the Countess Nyschriem, a Polish lady of high
birth and ample fortune, does you the honor to propose for your
hand. If you are disengaged, and your affections are not irrevocably
given to another, I can conceive no sufficient obstacle to
your acceptance of this brilliant connexion. The countess is
twenty-two, and not beautiful, it must in fairness be said; but
she has high qualities of head and heart, and is worthy of any
man's respect and affection. She has seen you, of course, and
conceived a passion for you, of which this is the result. I am
directed to add, that should you consent, the following conditions
are imposed—that you marry her within four days, making no
inquiry except as to her age, rank, and property, and that, without
previous interview, she come veiled to the altar. “You will pardon me that I have taken two days to consider
the extraordinary proposition made me in your letter. The subject,
since it is to be entertained a moment, requires, perhaps,
still further reflection—but my reply shall be definite, and as
prompt as I can bring myself to be, in a matter so important. “On a summer morning, twelve years ago, a chimney sweep,
after doing his work and singing his song, commenced his descent.
It was the chimney of a large house, and becoming embarrassed
among the flues, he lost his way and found himself on the hearth
of a sleeping-chamber occupied by a child. The sun was just
breaking through the curtains of the room, a vacated bed showed
that some one had risen lately, probably the nurse, and the
sweep, with an irresistible impulse, approached the unconscious
little sleeper. She lay with her head upon a round arm buried
in flaxen curls, and the smile of a dream on her rosy and parted
lips. It was a picture of singular loveliness, and something in
the heart of that boy-sweep, as he stood and looked upon the
child, knelt to it with an agony of worship. The tears gushed to
his eyes. He stripped the sooty blanket from his breast, and
looked at the skin white upon his side. The contrast between
his condition and that of the fair child sleeping before him brought
the blood to his blackened brow with the hot rush of lava. He
knelt beside the bed on which she slept, took her hand in his
sooty grasp, and with a kiss upon the white and dewy fingers,
poured his whole soul with passionate earnestness into a resolve. “You will recognize my handwriting again. I have little to
say—for I abandon the intention I had formed to comment on
your apparent preference. Your happiness is in your own hands.
Circumstances which will be explained to you, and which will
excuse this abrupt forwardness, compel me to urge you to an immediate
choice. On your arrival at home, you will meet me in
your father's house, where I shall call to await you. I confess,
tremblingly, that I still cherish a hope. If I am not deceived—
if you can consent to love me—if my long devotion is to be rewarded—take
my hand when you meet me. That moment will
decide the value of my life. But be prepared also to name
another, if you love him—for there is a necessity, which I cannot
11
explain to you till you have chosen your husband, that this choice
should be made on your arrival. Trust and forgive one who has
so long loved you!” I have not written to you in your boy's lifetime—that fine lad,
a shade taller than yourself, whom I sometimes meet at my
tailor's and bootmaker's. I am not very sure, that after the first
month (bitter month) of your marriage, I have thought of you
for the duration of a revery—fit to be so called. I loved you—
lost you—swore your ruin and forgot you—which is love's climax
when jilted. And I never expected to think of you again. Start fair, my sweet Violet! This letter will lie on your
table when you arrive at Saratoga, and it is intended to prepare
you for that critical campaign. You must know the ammunition
with which you go into the field. I have seen service, as you
know, and from my retirement (on half-pay), can both devise
strategy and reconnoitre the enemy's weakness, with discretion.
Set your glass before you on the table, and let us hold a frank
council of war. My dear Widow: For the wear and tear of your bright eyes
in writing me a letter you are duly credited. That for a real
half-hour, as long as any ordinary half-hour, such well-contrived
illuminations should have concentrated their mortal using on me
only, is equal, I am well aware, to a private audience of any two
stars in the firmament—eyelashes and petticoats (if not thrown
in) turning the comparison a little in your favor. Thanks—of
course—piled high as the porphyry pyramid of Papantla! My dear neph-ling: I congratulate you on the attainment
of your degree as “Master of Arts.” In other words, I wish
the sin of the Faculty well repented of, in having endorsed upon
parchment such a barefaced fabrication. Put the document in
your pocket, and come away! There will be no occasion to air
it before doomsday, probably, and fortunately for you, it will then
revert to the Faculty. Quiescat adhuc—as I used to say of my
tailor's bills till they came through a lawyer. All asleep around me, dear Ernest, save the birds and insects
to whom night is the time for waking. The stars and they are
the company of such lovers of the thought-world as you and I,
and, considering how beautiful night is, nature seems to have arranged
it for a gentler and loftier order of beings, who alternate
the conscious possession of the earth with those who wake by day.
Shall we think better of ourselves for joining this nightingale
troop, or is it (as I sometimes dread) a culpable shunning of the
positive duties which belong to us as creatures of sunshine?
Alas! this is but one of many shapes in which the same thought
comes up to trouble me! In yielding to this passion for solitude
—in communing, perhaps selfishly, with my own thoughts, in preference
to associating with friends and companions—in writing,
spiritually though it be, to you, in preference to thinking tenderly
of him—I seem to myself to be doing wrong. Is it so? Can I
divide my two natures, and rightfully pour my spirit's reserve
freely out to you, while I give to him who thinks me all his own,
only the every-day affection which he seems alone to value? Yet
the best portion of my nature would be unappreciated else—the
noblest questionings of my soul would be without response—the
world I most live in would be utterly lonely. I fear to decide
the question yet. I am too happy in writing to you. I will defer
it, at least, till I have sounded the depths of the well of angels
from which I am now quenching my thirst—till I know all the joy
and luxury which, it seems to me, the exchange of these innermost
breathings of the soul can alone give. You refuse to let me once rest my eyes upon you. I can
understand that there might be a timidity in the first thought of
meeting one with whom you had corresponded without acquaintance,
but it seems to me that a second thought must remind you
how much deeper and more sacred than “acquaintance,” our
interchange of sympathies has been. Why, dear Ermengarde,
you know me better than those who see me every day. My
most intimate companion knows me less. Even she to whom I,
perhaps, owe all confidence, and who might weep over the reservation
of what I have shared with you, had she the enlargement
of soul to comprehend it—even she knows me but as a child
knows the binding of a book, while you have read me well.
Why should you fear to let me once take your features into my
memory, that this vague pain of starry distance and separation
may be removed or lessened? | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 53 | Author: | University of Virginia. Board of Visitors | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | File: 2009 JUNE 19 MEETING MINS  | | | | Published: | 2009 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia::Board of Visitors | DCP-66 | UVA-LIB-BoardOfVisitorsMinutes | | | | Description: | June 19, 2009
The Board of Visitors of the University of Virginia met, in Open Session, at 9:35 a.m., Friday, June 19, 2009, in the Board Room of Dominion Resources, 100 Tredegar Street, Richmond, Virginia. W. Heywood Fralin, Rector, presided by telephone.
A quorum of Members was present: John O. Wynne, Daniel R. Abramson, The Honorable Alan A. Diamonstein, Ms. Susan Y. Dorsey, Thomas F. Farrell, II, and The Honorable Lewis F. Payne.
Also participating by telephone were A. Macdonald Caputo, Ms. Helen E. Dragas, Robert D. Hardie, Ms. Glynn D. Key, Austin Ligon, and Vincent J. Mastracco, Jr. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 64 | Author: | University of Virginia. Board of Visitors | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | File: 2012 AUG BOV RETREAT MINS | | | | Published: | 2012 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia::Board of Visitors | DCP-66 | UVA-LIB-BoardOfVisitorsMinutes | | | | Description: | August 15-16, 2012
All members of the Board of Visitors of the University of Virginia, save R.J. Kirk, met, in Retreat and in Open and Executive Session, at the Omni Hotel in Richmond, Virginia on Wednesday and Thursday, August 15-16, 2012; Helen E. Dragas, Rector, presided.
Frank B. Atkinson, A. Macdonald Caputo, Hunter E. Craig, The Honorable Alan A. Diamonstein, Ms. Allison Cryor DiNardo, Marvin W. Gilliam Jr., Ms. Victoria D. Harker, Ms. Bobbie G. Kilberg, Stephen P. Long, M.D., George Keith Martin, Vincent J. Mastracco Jr., Edward D. Miller, M.D., John L. Nau III, Timothy B. Robertson, Linwood H. Rose, Ms. Hillary A. Hurd, William H. Goodwin Jr., and Leonard W. Sandridge Jr., were present.
Also present were Ms. Teresa A. Sullivan, John D. Simon, Ms. Susan G. Harris, and Assistant Attorney General Ronald C. Forehand. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 65 | Author: | University of Virginia. Board of Visitors | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | File: 2012 DEC 7 Full Board Minutes | | | | Published: | 2012 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia::Board of Visitors | DCP-66 | UVA-LIB-BoardOfVisitorsMinutes | | | | Description: | December 7, 2012
The Board of Visitors of the University of Virginia met, in Open Session, at 10:15 a.m. on Friday, December 7, 2012, in the David J. Prior Convocation Center at The University of Virginia’s College at Wise; Ms. Helen E. Dragas, Rector, presided.
Present were Frank B. Atkinson, the Honorable Alan A. Diamonstein, Ms. Allison Cryor DiNardo, Marvin W. Gilliam Jr., Stephen P. Long, M.D., George Keith Martin, and Timothy B. Robertson.
Also present were Ms. Teresa A. Sullivan, Ms. Susan G. Harris, Patrick D. Hogan, Simeon E. Ewing, John Sanders Huguenin, and Ms. Debra D. Rinker. Members of the College at Wise Board and many faculty, staff, and students attended the meeting. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 71 | Author: | University of Virginia. Board of Visitors | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | File: 2013 AUG BOV RETREAT MINS | | | | Published: | 2013 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia::Board of Visitors | DCP-66 | UVA-LIB-BoardOfVisitorsMinutes | | | | Description: | August 2-3, 2013
All members of the Board of Visitors of the University of Virginia met in Retreat and in Open and Executive Session, in the Abbott Center at the Darden School of Business in Charlottesville, Virginia on Friday and Saturday, August 2-3, 2013; George Keith Martin, Rector, presided.
Frank B. Atkinson, Hunter E. Craig, Allison Cryor DiNardo, Helen E. Dragas, Kevin J. Fay, Frank E. Genovese, Marvin W. Gilliam Jr., William H. Goodwin Jr., John A. Griffin, Victoria D. Harker, Bobbie G. Kilberg, Stephen P. Long, M.D., Edward D. Miller, M.D., John L. Nau III, Timothy B. Robertson, Linwood H. Rose, Blake E. Blaze, and Leonard W. Sandridge Jr., were present on Friday and all were present on Saturday except Mr. Atkinson.
Also present were Teresa A. Sullivan, John D. Simon, Patrick D. Hogan, Betsy V. Ackerson, J. Milton Adams, Anthony de Bruyn, Paul J. Forch, Susan G. Harris, McGregor McCance, and Debra D. Rinker. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 80 | Author: | University of Virginia. Board of Visitors | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | File: 2015 AUG BOV RETREAT MINS | | | | Published: | 2015 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia::Board of Visitors | DCP-66 | UVA-LIB-BoardOfVisitorsMinutes | | | | Description: | August 16-17, 2015
Members of the Board of Visitors of the University of Virginia met in Retreat and in Open and Executive Session, in the Forum Room of the White Burkett Miller Center of Public Affairs in Charlottesville, Virginia on Sunday and Monday, August 16-17, 2015; William H. Goodwin Jr., Rector, presided.
Frank B. Atkinson, Mark T. Bowles, L.D. Britt, M.D., Whittington W. Clement, Frank M. Conner III, Kevin J. Fay, Barbara J. Fried, Frank E. Genovese, John A. Griffin, Victoria D. Harker, Bobbie G. Kilberg, John G. Macfarlane III, James V. Reyes, Jeffrey C. Walker, and Daniel T. Judge were present.
Present as well were Teresa A. Sullivan, Thomas C. Katsouleas, Patrick D. Hogan, Richard P. Shannon, M.D., Donna P. Henry, Susan G. Harris, David W. Martel, Debra D. Rinker, Nancy A. Rivers, Roscoe C. Roberts, and Farnaz F. Thompson. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 90 | Author: | University of Virginia. Board of Visitors | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | File: 2016 NOV 1 MCOB AND FULL BOARD MINUTES-Final | | | | Published: | 2016 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia::Board of Visitors | DCP-66 | UVA-LIB-BoardOfVisitorsMinutes | | | | Description: | November 1, 2016
The Medical Center Operating Board and the Board of Visitors of the University of Virginia met in open and closed session at 11:00 a.m. on Tuesday, November 1, 2016, in the Board Conference Room of CCA Industries located at 800 East Canal Street, Suite 1900, in Richmond VA. William H. Goodwin Jr., Rector, presided.
Present: Mark T. Bowles, L.D. Britt, M.D., Whittington W. Clement, Barbara J. Fried, James B. Murray Jr., Hunter E. Craig, Teresa A. Sullivan, Patrick D. Hogan, Richard P. Shannon, M.D., and David S. Wilkes, M.D.
Participating by telephone: Elizabeth M. Cranwell participated from 1911 Mountain View Road, Vinton VA 24179; Kevin J. Fay participated from 2111 Wilson Boulevard - 8
Floor, Arlington VA 22201; John A. Griffin participated from 660 Madison Avenue, New York NY 10065; Babur B. Lateef, M.D. participated from 9161 Liberia Ave, Manassas VA 20110; Tammy S. Murphy participated from 21 East Front Street - Suite 700, Red Bank NJ 07701; Constance R. Kincheloe participated from 18039 Birmingham Road, Culpeper VA 22701; Dorothy K. Fontaine participated from 225 Jeanette Lancaster Way - 3
Floor, Dean’s Suite – Room 3111; Charlottesville VA 22908; and Pamela M. Sutton-Wallace participated from 1122 PCC (Primary Care Center), Room 1113A; Charlottesville VA 22908. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 103 | Author: | University of Virginia. Board of Visitors | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | File: MINUTES-2016 NOV 11 SIF meeting | | | | Published: | 2016 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia::Board of Visitors | DCP-66 | UVA-LIB-BoardOfVisitorsMinutes | | | | Description: | November 11, 2016
The Board of Visitors of the University of Virginia met, in open and closed session, at 10:00 a.m. on Friday, November 11, 2016, in the Board Room of the Rotunda. William H. Goodwin Jr., Rector, presided.
Present: Mark T. Bowles, Whittington W. Clement, Frank M. Conner III, Elizabeth M. Cranwell, Thomas A. DePasquale, Kevin J. Fay, Frank E. Genovese, John A. Griffin, Babur B. Lateef, M.D., John G. Macfarlane III, James B. Murray Jr., Jeffrey C. Walker, Nina J. Solenski, M.D., and Phoebe A. Willis.
Participating by telephone: Ms. Fried participated in the morning closed session from 255 South West Temple, Salt Lake City, UT 84101; Ms. Murphy participated in the morning closed session from the Andover Inn, 4 Chapel Avenue, Andover, MA 01810; Mr. Reyes participated in the entire meeting from 3500 Fort Lincoln Drive NE, Washington, DC 20018. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 107 | Author: | Tayama, Katai | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Futon | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 小石川の
切支丹坂
(
きりしたんざか
)
から
極楽水
(
ごくらくすい
)
に出る道のだらだら坂を下りようとして
渠
(
かれ
)
は考えた。「これで自分と彼女との関係は一段落を告げた。三十六にもなって、子供も三人あって、あんなことを考えたかと思うと、馬鹿々々しくなる。けれど……けれど……本当にこれが事実だろうか。あれだけの愛情を自身に注いだのは単に愛情としてのみで、恋ではなかったろうか」 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 109 | Author: | Yosano, Akiko | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fujin kaizo to koto kyoiku | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 我国の婦人界は人の視聴を引く鮮かな現象に乏しいので毎年同じほどの平調な経過を取って行くように思われますけれど、七、八年前の婦人界を顧みて比較するとその変化の非常なのに驚かれます。例えば
小松原英太郎
(
こまつばらえいたろう
)
氏が文部大臣であった頃と今日との教育主義の推移はどうでしょう。あの頃は世界の大勢に逆行し
併
(
あわ
)
せて我我若い婦人の内部要求を無視した旧式な賢母良妻主義が一般女子教育家の聡明を
脅
(
おびや
)
かして、近く叙勲された女流教育家たちなどが
倉皇
(
あわ
)
てて「女学生べからず訓十カ条」を制定するような状態であったのです。そういう保守的逆潮に対して微力の許す限り不承認の意向を述べた私などは大分
厭
(
いや
)
な批難を
旧
(
ふる
)
い人たちから受けたようでしたが、それが今日ではどの有力な教育家も賢母良妻主義以上の教育を主張しない者は殆どなく、文部大臣自ら学制改革案で女子大学の必要を公認し、また途中で
遇
(
あ
)
う男子に目も触れるなと教えた当年の「べからず訓」制定者たちが若い婦人を指揮して街頭に立ち、通行の男子に呼び掛けて花を売るという有様にまで変っております。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 110 | Author: | Yosano, Akiko | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fujin kaizo no kisoteki kosatsu | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 改造ということは最も古くして併せて最も新らしい意味を持っています。人生は歴史以前の悠遠な時代に一たび文化生活の端を開いてこのかた、全く改造に改造を重ねて進転する過程です。男子は巧みにこの過程に乗って、その個性を開展し、幾千年の間に男子本位に傾いた文化生活を築き上げました。とかくこの過程に停滞し落伍する者は女子でした。人生の幼稚な過程に動物的本能がまだ余分に勢力を
振
（
ふる
）
っていた時代――腕力とそれの延長である武力と、それの変形である権力とが勢力を持っていた時代――では、すべての女性が男性に圧制されて、従属的地位に立たねばならなかったことは、やむをえなかった歴史的事実だともいわれるでしょう。しかしこれがために女子はその人格の発展を非常に鈍らせ、かつ一方に偏せしめてしまいました。それは蜂の女王が生殖機関たることに偏した結果、それ以外には
畸形
（
きけい
）
的無能力者となったのに
喩
（
たと
）
えても好いような状態に堕落してしまいました。『時事新報』の一記者が近頃その「財界夜話」の中で引用されたリバアブウル大学副総長の言葉の如く「国家が人民の半分だけを（即ち男子だけを）社会的、経済的、並びに公共的の業務に就かせている限り、強かるべきはずの者（即ち女子）も弱く、富むべきはずの者（即ち女子）も貧しいのだ」という状態になったことは、女子ばかりの不幸でなく、引いて人類全体の不幸であったのです。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 112 | Author: | Yosano, Akiko | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fujin to shiso | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 行うということ働くということは器械的である。従属的である。それ自身に価値を
有
(
も
)
っていない事である。神経の下等中枢で用の足る事である。わたしは人において最も貴いものは想うこと考えることであると信じている。想うことは最も自由であり、また最も楽しい事である。また最も
賢
(
かしこ
)
く優れた事である。想うという能力に
由
(
よ
)
って人は理解もし、設計もし、創造もし、批判もし、反省もし、統一もする。想うて行えばこそ初めて行うこと働くことに意義や価値が生ずるのである。人が動物や器械と異る点はこの想うことの能力を
有
(
も
)
っているからである。また文明人と野蛮人との区別もこの能力の発達不発達に比例すると思う。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 113 | Author: | Yosano, Akiko | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fujin mo sanseiken o yokyusu | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | Japanese Text Initiative | | | | Description: | 二月に入って
俄
（
にわ
）
かに普通選挙の運動が各地に起り出しました。かつて明治四十一年に政友会の提出した普通選挙法案が一旦衆議院を通過しながら、元老や貴族院の保守的勢力の圧迫に依って頓挫してしまったことは、私たちの記憶にまだ新しいのですが、今年の議会に国民党、憲政会、政府等から各別に三つの選挙法改正案が提出された際ですから、これを好い機会として、久しく眠っていたこの運動が十幾年ぶりに復活して来たのだと思います。 | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 124 | Author: | Turner
Frederick Jackson
1861-1932 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Frontier in American History | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | In a recent bulletin of the Superintendent of the Census for
1890 appear these significant words: "Up to and including
1880 the country had a frontier of settlement, but at present
the unsettled area has been so broken into by isolated bodies
of settlement that there can hardly be said to be a frontier
line. In the discussion of its extent, its westward movement,
etc., it can not, therefore, any longer have a place in the census
reports." This brief official statement marks the closing
of a great historic movement. Up to our own day American
history has been in a large degree the history of the colonization
of the Great West. The existence of an area of free land,
its continuous recession, and the advance of American settlement
westward, explain American development. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 156 | Author: | Washington
Booker T.
1856-1915 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Future of the American Negro | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | In this volume I shall not attempt to
give the origin and history of the Negro
race either in Africa or in America.
My attempt is to deal only with conditions
that now exist and bear a relation
to the Negro in America and that are
likely to exist in the future. In discussing
the Negro, it is always to be borne
in mind that, unlike all the other inhabitants
of America, he came here without
his own consent; in fact, was compelled
to leave his own country and
become a part of another through physical
force. It should also be borne in
mind, in our efforts to change and improve
the present condition of the Negro,
that we are dealing with a race which
had little necessity to labour in its native
country. After being brought to
America, the Negroes were forced to
labour for about 250 years under circumstances
which were calculated not to
inspire them with love and respect for
labour. This constitutes a part of the
reason why I insist that it is necessary
to emphasise the matter of industrial
education as a means of giving the
black man the foundation of a civilisation
upon which he will grow and
prosper. When I speak of industrial
education, however, I wish it always
understood that I mean, as did General
Armstrong, the founder of the Hampton
Institute, for thorough academic
and religious training to go side by
side with industrial training. Mere
training of the hand without the culture
of brain and heart would mean
little. "The closing exercises of the city
coloured public school were held at St.
Luke's A. M. E. Church last night, and
were witnessed by a large gathering, including
many white. The recitations
by the pupils were excellent, and the
music was also an interesting feature.
Rev. R. T. Pollard delivered the address,
which was quite an able one; and
the certificates were presented by Professor
T. L. McCoy, white, of the Sanford
Street School. The success of the
exercises reflects great credit on Professor
S. M. Murphy, the principal, who
enjoys a deservedly good reputation as
a capable and efficient educator." | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 240 | Author: | Hume
Tobias
d. 1645 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The First Part of Ayres, French, Pollish, and others together, some in Tabliture, and some in Pricke-Song. With Pauines, Galliards, and Almaines for the Viole De Gambo alone, and other Musicall Conceites for two Base Viols, expressing fiue partes, with pleasant reportes one from the other, and for two Leero Viols, and also for the Leero Viole with two Treble Viols, or two with one Treble. Lastly for the Leero Viole to play alone, and some Songes to bee sung to the Viole, with the Lute, or better with the Viole alone. Also an Inuention for two to play vpon one Viole | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | Chadwyck-Healey, English Poetry | CH-EnglPoetry | | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 484 | Author: | Carvalho, David N. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Forty Centuries of Ink | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE ORIGIN OF INK—COMPOSITION OF THE COLORED INKS OF
ANTIQUITY—ANCIENT NAMES FOR BLACK INKS—METHODS OF THEIR
MANUFACTURE—THE INVENTION OF "INDIAN" INK—THE ART OF DYEING
HISTORICALLY CONSIDERED—THE SYMBOLIC ESTIMATION OF COLORS—THE
EMPLOYMENT OF TINCTURES AS INKS—CONSIDERATION OF THE ANTIQUITY OF
ARTIFICIAL INKS AND THE BLACK INKS OF INTERMEDIATE TIMES—ORIGIN OF THE
COLORED PIGMENTS OF ANTIQUITY-CITATIONS FROM HERODOTUS, PLINY AND
ARBUTHNOT—PRICES CURRENT, OF ANCIENT INKS AND COLORS—WHY THE NATURAL
INKS FORMERLY EMPLOYED ARE NOT STILL EXTANT—THE KIND OF INK EMPLOYED BY
THE PRIESTS IN THE TIME OF MOSES—ILLUSTRATIVE HISTORY OF THE EGYPTIANS
IN ITS RELATIONSHIP TO WRITING IMPLEMENTS—THE USE OF BOTH RED AND BLACK
INK IN JOSEPH'S TIME—ITS OTHER HISTORY PRECEDING THE DEPARTURE OF
ISRAEL FROM EGYPT—THE DISAPPEARANCE OF ALL BUT A FEW KINDS OF INK—INK
TRADITIONS AND THEIR VALUE—STORY ABOUT THE ORACLES OF THE SIBYLS—HOW
THE ANCIENT HISTORIANS SOUGHT TO BE MISLEADING—ILLUSTRATIVE ANECDOTE BY
RICHARDSON: | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 487 | Author: | Davis, Rebecca Harding, 1831-1910 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Frances Waldeaux | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | In another minute the Kaiser Wilhelm would push off
from her pier in Hoboken. The last bell had rung, the
last uniformed officer and white-jacketed steward had
scurried up the gangway. The pier was massed with people
who had come to bid their friends good-by. They were all
Germans, and there had been unlimited embracing and
kissing and sobs of "Ach! mein lieber Sckatz!" and
"Gott bewahre Dick!" | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 489 | Author: | Ferber, Edna | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fanny Herself | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | You could not have lived a week in Winnebago without
being aware of Mrs. Brandeis. In a town of ten thousand,
where every one was a personality, from Hen Cody, the
drayman, in blue overalls (magically transformed on Sunday
mornings into a suave black-broadcloth usher at the
Congregational Church), to A. J. Dawes, who owned the
waterworks before the city bought it. Mrs. Brandeis was a
super-personality. Winnebago did not know it. Winnebago,
buying its dolls, and china, and Battenberg braid and
tinware and toys of Mrs. Brandeis, of Brandeis' Bazaar,
realized vaguely that here was some one different. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 490 | Author: | Gale, Zona | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Friday | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | HEMPEL had watched the hands of the clock make all the motions of
the hour, from the trim segment of eleven to the lazy down-stretch of
twenty minutes past, the slim erectness of the half-hour, the
promising angles of the three quarters, ten, five to twelve, and last
the unanimity and consummation of noon. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 492 | Author: | Hamilton, Alexander; John Jay; and James Madison | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Federalist Papers | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | To the People of the State of New York:
AFTER an unequivocal experience of the inefficiency of the
subsisting federal government, you are called upon to deliberate on
a new Constitution for the United States of America. The subject
speaks its own importance; comprehending in its consequences
nothing less than the existence of the UNION, the safety and welfare
of the parts of which it is composed, the fate of an empire in many
respects the most interesting in the world. It has been frequently
remarked that it seems to have been reserved to the people of this
country, by their conduct and example, to decide the important
question, whether societies of men are really capable or not of
establishing good government from reflection and choice, or whether
they are forever destined to depend for their political
constitutions on accident and force. If there be any truth in the
remark, the crisis at which we are arrived may with propriety be
regarded as the era in which that decision is to be made; and a
wrong election of the part we shall act may, in this view, deserve
to be considered as the general misfortune of mankind. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 493 | Author: | Henry, O., 1862-1910 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The four million; | | | | Published: | 2001 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | TOBIN and me, the two of us, went down to Coney one day, for there
was four dollars between us, and Tobin had need of distractions.
For there was Katie Mahorner, his sweetheart, of County Sligo, lost
since she started for America three months before with two hundred
dollars, her own savings, and one hundred dollars from the sale of
Tobin's inherited estate, a fine cottage and pig on the Bog
Shannaugh. And since the letter that Tobin got saying that she had
started to come to him not a bit of news had he heard or seen of
Katie Mahorner. Tobin advertised in the papers, but nothing could be
found of the colleen. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 498 | Author: | Locke, William John | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Fortunate Youth | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | PAUL KEGWORTHY lived with his mother, Mrs.
Button, his stepfather, Mr. Button, and six little
Buttons, his half brothers and sisters. His was
not an ideal home; it consisted in a bedroom, a
kitchen and a scullery in a grimy little house in
a grimy street made up of rows of exactly similar
grimy little houses, and forming one of a hundred
similar streets in a northern manufacturing town.
Mr. and Mrs. Button worked in a factory and took
in as lodgers grimy single men who also worked in
factories. They were not a model couple; they were
rather, in fact, the scandal of Budge Street,
which did not itself enjoy, in Bludston, a
reputation for holiness. Neither was good to look
upon. Mr. Button, who was Lancashire bred and
born, divided the yearnings of his spirit between
strong drink and dog-fights. Mrs. Button, a
viperous Londoner, yearned for noise. When Mr.
Button came home drunk he punched his wife about
the head and kicked her about the body, while they
both exhausted the vocabulary of vituperation of
North and South, to the horror and edification of
the neighbourhood. When Mr. Button was sober Mrs.
Button chastised little Paul. She would have done
so when Mr. Button was drunk, but she had not the
time. The periods, therefore, of his mother's
martyrdom were those of Paul's enfranchisement. If
he saw his stepfather
come down the street with steady gait, he fled in
terror; if he saw him reeling homeward he lingered
about with light and joyous heart. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 500 | Author: | Munroe, Kirk, 1850-1930. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The flamingo feather | | | | Published: | 2001 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | ON a dreary winter's day, early in the year 1564, young Réné
de Veaux, who had just passed his sixteenth birthday, left the dear old chateau
where he had spent his happy and careless boyhood, and started for Paris.
Less than a month before both his noble father and his gentle mother had
been taken from him by a terrible fever that had swept over the country,
and Réné their only child, was left without a relative in the
world except his uncle the Chevalier Réné de Laudonniere, after
whom he was named. In those days of tedious travel it seemed a weary time
to the lonely lad before the messenger who had gone to Paris with a letter
telling his uncle of his sad position could return. When at length he came
again, bringing a kind message that bade him come immediately to Paris and
be a son to his equally lonely uncle, Réné lost no time in
obeying. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 501 | Author: | Myerson, Abraham, 1881-1948. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Foundations of Personality | | | | Published: | 1999 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | MAN'S interest in character is founded on an intensely practical
need. In whatsoever relationship we deal with our fellows, we base our
intercourse largely on our understanding of their characters. The
trader asks concerning his customer, "Is he honest?'' and the teacher
asks about the pupil, "Is he earnest?'' The friend bases his
friendship on his good opinion of his friend; the foe seeks to know
the weak points in the hated one's make-up; and the maiden yearning
for her lover whispers to, herself, "Is he true?'' Upon our success
in reading the character of others, upon our understanding of
ourselves hangs a good deal of our life's success or failure. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 504 | Author: | Poe, Edgar Allan | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | THE FACTS IN THE CASE OF M. VALDEMAR | | | | Published: | 2001 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | OF COURSE I shall not pretend to consider it any matter for
wonder, that the extraordinary case of M. Valdemar has excited
discussion. It would have been a miracle had it not-especially under
the circumstances. Through the desire of all parties concerned, to
keep the affair from the public, at least for the present, or until we
had farther opportunities for investigation --through our endeavors to
effect this --a garbled or exaggerated account made its way into
society, and became the source of many unpleasant
misrepresentations, and, very naturally, of a great deal of disbelief. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 510 | Author: | Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Flirt | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Valentine Corliss walked up Corliss Street the hottest afternoon
of that hot August, a year ago, wearing a suit of white serge
which attracted a little attention from those observers who were
able to observe anything except the heat. The coat was shaped
delicately; it outlined the wearer, and, fitting him as women's
clothes fit women, suggested an effeminacy not an attribute of
the tall Corliss. The effeminacy belonged all to the tailor, an
artist plying far from Corliss Street, for the coat would have
encountered a hundred of its fellows at Trouville or Ostende this
very day. Corliss Street is the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne, the
Park Lane, the Fifth Avenue, of Capitol City, that smoky
illuminant of our great central levels, but although it esteems
itself an established cosmopolitan thoroughfare, it is still
provincial enough to be watchful; and even in its torrid languor
took some note of the alien garment. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 514 | Author: | Aesop | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fables | | | | Published: | 1993 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | WOLF, meeting with a Lamb astray from the fold, resolved not to
lay violent hands on him, but to find some plea to justify to the
Lamb the Wolf's right to eat him. He thus addressed him:
"Sirrah, last year you grossly insulted me." "Indeed," bleated
the Lamb in a mournful tone of voice, "I was not then born." Then
said the Wolf, "You feed in my pasture." "No, good sir," replied
the Lamb, "I have not yet tasted grass." Again said the Wolf,
"You drink of my well." "No," exclaimed the Lamb, "I never yet
drank water, for as yet my mother's milk is both food and drink
to me." Upon which the Wolf seized him and ate him up, saying,
"Well! I won't remain supperless, even though you refute every
one of my imputations." The tyrant will always find a pretext for
his tyranny. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 516 | Author: | Anonymous | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Facts. By a Woman | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Debating the question of ways and means, . . . I was prompted instinctively to pick up a city
newspaper . . . my visionary mind was mechanically drawn down through its newsy page to a
single item of distinctive meaning, so electrifying and magically warming my freezing life-current,
that I was instantly thrown into complete respiration and retroaction. It was a simple
announcement, an advertisement only, of A. Roman & Co., who wanted agents to canvass "Tom
Sawyer," Mark Twain's new book. I had been led to it by a mysterious guidance . . . . | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 518 | Author: | Austin, Mary | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Frustrate | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | I KNOW that I am a disappointed woman and that nobody cares at all
about it, not even Henry; and if anybody thought of it, it would
only be to think it ridiculous. It is ridiculous, too, with my
waist, and not knowing how to do my hair or anything. I look at
Henry sometimes of evenings, when he has his feet on the fender,
and wonder if he has the least idea how disappointed I am. I even
have days of wondering if Henry isn't disappointed, too. He might
be disappointed in himself, which would be even more dreadful; but
I don't suppose we shall ever find out about each other. It is
part of my disappointment that Henry has never seemed to want to
find out. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 519 | Author: | Chesnutt, Charles Waddell, 1858-1932 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Free Colored People of North Carolina | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | IN our generalizations upon American history — and the American
people are prone to loose generalization, especially where the
Negro is concerned — it is ordinarily assumed that the entire colored
race was set free as the result of the Civil War. While this is true in
a broad, moral sense, there was, nevertheless, a very considerable technical exception in the case of several hundred thousand free people of
color, a great many of whom were residents of the Southern States.
Although the emancipation of their race brought to these a larger
measure of liberty than they had previously enjoyed, it did not confer
upon them personal freedom, which they possessed already. These
free colored people were variously distributed, being most numerous,
perhaps, in Maryland, where, in the year 1850, for example, in a state
with 87,189 slaves, there were 83,942 free colored people, the white population of the State being 515,918; and perhaps least numerous in
Georgia, of all the slave states, where, to a slave population of 462,198,
there were only 351 free people of color, or less than three-fourths of
one per cent., as against the about fifty per cent. in Maryland. Next
to Maryland came Virginia, with 58,042 free colored people, North
Carolina with 30,463, Louisiana with 18,647, (of whom 10,939 were in
the parish of New Orleans alone), and South Carolina with 9,914.
For these statistics, I have of course referred to the census reports
for the years mentioned. In the year 1850, according to the same
authority, there were in the state of North Carolina 553,028 white people, 288,548 slaves, and 27,463 free colored people. In 1860, the white
population of the state was 631,100, slaves 331,059, free colored people, 30,463. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 521 | Author: | Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Falk; Amy Foster; To-Morrow | | | | Published: | 1996 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Several of us, all more or less connected with the sea, were dining
in a small river-hostelry not more than thirty miles from London, and
less than twenty from that shallow and dangerous puddle to which our
coasting men give the grandiose name of "German Ocean." And through
the wide windows we had a view of the Thames; an enfilading view down
the Lower Hope Reach. But the dinner was execrable, and all the
feast was for the eyes. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 524 | Author: | Dodge, David | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | "The Free Negroes of North Carolina" | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | According to the census of 1860, there were in the United States,
in round numbers, 487,000 free negroes, of which the fifteen slave-holding States contained 251,000. Virginia stood first, with
58,000; North Carolina second, with 30,000; and in the seven States
south of these, in which the most rigorous free-negro laws
prevailed, there were a total of less than 40,000. In Virginia
they formed 10.60 per cent. of the negro population, in North
Carolina 8.42 per cent., and in the other seven States alluded to
considerably less than two per cent. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 526 | Author: | Du Bois, W. E. Burghardt | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Freedmen's Bureau | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE problem of the twentieth century is the problem of the
color line; the relation of the darker to the lighter races of men
in Asia and Africa, in America and the islands of the sea. It was
a phase of this problem that caused the Civil War; and however much
they who marched south and north in 1861 may have fixed on the
technical points of union and local autonomy as a shibboleth, all
nevertheless knew, as we know, that the question of Negro slavery
was the deeper cause of the conflict. Curious it was, too, how
this deeper question ever forced itself to the surface, despite
effort and disclaimer. No sooner had Northern armies touched
Southern soil than this old question, newly guised, sprang from the
earth, — What shall be done with slaves? Peremptory military
commands, this way and that, could not answer the query; the
Emancipation Proclamation seemed but to broaden and intensify the
difficulties; and so at last there arose in the South a government
of men called the Freedmen's Bureau, which lasted, legally, from
1865 to 1872, but in a sense from 1861 to 1876, and which sought to
settle the Negro problems in the United States of America. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 535 | Author: | Jewett, Sarah Orne | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | From A Mournful Villager | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | LATELY I have been thinking, with much sorrow, of the
approaching extinction of front yards, and of the type of New
England village character and civilization with which they are
associated. Formerly, because I lived in an old-fashioned New
England village, it would have been hard for me to imagine
that there were parts of the country where the front yard, as I
knew it, was not in fashion, and that grounds (however small) had
taken its place. No matter how large a piece of land lay in front
of a house in old times, it was still a front yard, in spite of
noble dimension and the skill of practiced gardeners. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 536 | Author: | Levick, Milne B. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Frank Norris | | | | Published: | 1996 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | FRANK NORRIS has been dead over two years. The rush of faddists, of
readers of new books only, has passed. Norris has been honored with a
limited, and, alas! complete edition. But his books are still in
demand, and if, as he thought, in the end the people are always right,
Norris will not soon be forgotten. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 543 | Author: | Oskison, John M. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | "Friends of the Indian." | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | At last year's "Lake Mohonk Conference of Friends of the
Indian and Other Dependent Peoples," Mr. Bonaparte quoted a naval
officer as once declaring that "the service would never be worth a
— until all the well-meaning people in it had been hanged." He
hinted that something of the same tenor might have been said with
equal justice of the activity of champions of the Indian who are
merely well-meaning. Knowledge and discretion in those who have
undertaken unofficially to influence the conduct of Indian affairs
would have tempered their zeal usefully in the years when service
was most needed; and, though little fault can now be found with the
methods and personnel of the Indian Rights Association and similar
bodies, there is still a too noticeable tendency to let good
intentions evaporate in earnest, purposeless talk. That "court of
final appeal, public opinion," has been appealed to so often that
the last advocate must needs be silver-tongued indeed to rouse more
than a momentary interest. The Indian service, bad as it has been
at times, has accomplished more for the disappearing natives than
it has been credited with in the popular mind. It would have done
still more if its critics had been inspired by accurate information
and good judgment. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 544 | Author: | Pokagon, Simon | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Future of the Red Man | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | OFTEN in the stillness of the night, when all nature seems
asleep about me, there comes a gentle rapping at the door of my
heart. I open it; and a voice inquires, "Pokagon, what of your
people? What will their future be?" My answer is: "Mortal man has
not the power to draw aside the veil of unborn time to tell the
future of his race. That gift belongs to the Divine alone. But it
is given to him to closely judge the future by the present and the
past." Hence, in order to approximate the future of our race, we
must consider our natural capabilities and our environments, as
connected with the dominant race which outnumbers us — three hundred
to one — in this land of our fathers. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 545 | Author: | Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft, 1797-1851 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Frankenstein | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an
enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings. I arrived here
yesterday, and my first task is to assure my dear sister of my welfare and
increasing confidence in the success of my undertaking. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 547 | Author: | Wallace, George | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | From the United States chronicle, Thursday, February 19, 1784. | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | IN this Page last Week a clear Consutation of
the original Claim to the Right of Slavery was given, by that Ornament
of his Profession Judge BLACKSTONE,—the Subject is now
concluded with the Sentiments of that ingenious Lawyer and excellent
Writer GEORGE WALLIS as published in his «
System of the Laws of Sreeland:» —
Speaking of the Negroes that are purchased from their Princes, who
pretend to have a Right to dispose of them, and that they are like other
Commodities, transported by the Merchants, who have bought them, into
America, in Order to be exposed to Sale, he says:—«If
this Trade admits of a rational or a moral Justification, every Crime,
even the most atrocious, may be justified. Government was instituted for
the Good of Mankind; Kings, Princes, Governors, are not Proprietors of
those who are subject to their Authority; they have not a Right to make
them miserable. On the contrary, their Authority is rested in them, that
they may, by the just, Exercise of it, promote the Happiness of their
People. Of course they have not a Right to dispose of their Liberty, and
to sell them for Slaves. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 551 | Author: | Wharton review: Anonymous | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | A Few Thought-Compelling Novels. | | | | Published: | 1996 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | It is possible to write about the «smart set» and not be
sophomoric or flippant. Edith Wharton does this, and her new
novel, «The Reef» (Appletons), is a serious and important criticism
of the aimless existence of the idle rich. Her criticism,
however, is made subtly; it is a matter not of statement but of
suggestion. George Darrow, a diplomatist, drifts into a foolish
intrigue with Sophy Viner, a commonplace little person who has been
making a dreary living as a companion to a vulgar woman of wealth.
After a Parisian sojourn they separate, and when next he meets her,
after three years, she is acting as governess to the little
daughter of Anna Leath, a widow whom he is courting. This is
embarrassing enough, but worse is in store. Sophy, he finds, is
affianced to Owen Leath, Mrs. Leath's stepson. There is something
reminiscent of Pinero in Mrs. Wharton's method of juggling these
troubled souls. «The Reef» could be made into an admirable drama.
The plot comes to its climax naturally, in the manner of life, with
that irony which is characteristic of the way of the gods with
foolish people. For Mrs. Wharton's people are foolish—they are
vain, selfish and flatly materialistic. She has knowledge of but
not love for mankind. Perhaps it is fairer to say that she has no
love for the class of which she writes with such cruel realism. It
is certain that the future historian who wishes a clear idea of the
thoughts and actions of the most worthless people of this
generation will need but two books—«The House of Mirth» and «The
Reef.» | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 555 | Author: | Davis, Rebecca Harding, 1831-1910 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Frances Waldeaux | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | In another minute the Kaiser Wilhelm would push off from
her pier in Hoboken. The last bell had rung, the last uniformed officer and
white-jacketed steward had scurried up the gangway. The pier was massed with
people who had come to bid their friends good-by. They were all Germans, and
there had been unlimited embracing and kissing and sobs of "Ach! mein lieber Sckatz!" and "Gott bewahre
Dick!" | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 556 | Author: | Ferber, Edna | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Fanny Herself | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | You could not have lived a week in Winnebago without being aware of Mrs.
Brandeis. In a town of ten thousand, where every one was a personality, from Hen
Cody, the drayman, in blue overalls (magically transformed on Sunday mornings
into a suave black-broadcloth usher at the Congregational Church), to A. J.
Dawes, who owned the waterworks before the city bought it. Mrs. Brandeis was a
super-personality. Winnebago did not know it. Winnebago, buying its dolls, and
china, and Battenberg braid and tinware and toys of Mrs. Brandeis, of Brandeis'
Bazaar, realized vaguely that here was some one different. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 557 | Author: | Locke, William John | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Fortunate Youth | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | PAUL KEGWORTHY lived with his mother, Mrs. Button, his stepfather, Mr. Button,
and six little Buttons, his half brothers and sisters. His was not an ideal
home; it consisted in a bedroom, a kitchen and a scullery in a grimy little
house in a grimy street made up of rows of exactly similar grimy little houses,
and forming one of a hundred similar streets in a northern manufacturing town.
Mr. and Mrs. Button worked in a factory and took in as lodgers grimy single men
who also worked in factories. They were not a model couple; they were rather, in
fact, the scandal of Budge Street, which did not itself enjoy, in Bludston, a
reputation for holiness. Neither was good to look upon. Mr. Button, who was
Lancashire bred and born, divided the yearnings of his spirit between strong
drink and dog-fights. Mrs. Button, a viperous Londoner, yearned for noise. When
Mr. Button came home drunk he punched his wife about the head and kicked her
about the body, while they both exhausted the vocabulary of vituperation of
North and South, to the horror and edification of the neighbourhood. When Mr.
Button was sober Mrs. Button chastised little Paul. She would have done so when
Mr. Button was drunk, but she had not the time. The periods, therefore, of his
mother's martyrdom were those of Paul's enfranchisement. If he saw his
stepfather come down the street with
steady gait, he fled in terror; if he saw him reeling homeward he lingered about
with light and joyous heart. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 559 | Author: | Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Flirt | | | | Published: | 1994 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Valentine Corliss walked up Corliss Street the hottest afternoon
of that hot August, a year ago, wearing a suit of white serge
which attracted a little attention from those observers who were
able to observe anything except the heat. The coat was shaped
delicately; it outlined the wearer, and, fitting him as women's
clothes fit women, suggested an effeminacy not an attribute of
the tall Corliss. The effeminacy belonged all to the tailor, an
artist plying far from Corliss Street, for the coat would have
encountered a hundred of its fellows at Trouville or Ostende this
very day. Corliss Street is the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne, the
Park Lane, the Fifth Avenue, of Capitol City, that smoky
illuminant of our great central levels, but although it esteems
itself an established cosmopolitan thoroughfare, it is still
provincial enough to be watchful; and even in its torrid languor
took some note of the alien garment. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
|
