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1Author:  Cary Alice 1820-1871Add
 Title:  The adopted daughter  
 Published:  2002 
 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 ALICE CAREY, AUTHOR OF “CLOVERNOOK,” “LYRA,” ETC. “Miss Pridore,—A conversation with your brother this afternoon, in which my father's misfortunes were the subject of ridicule, will make it necessary for me to forego the pleasure of seeing you at his birth-night party. Your friend,
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2Author:  Cary Alice 1820-1871Add
 Title:  The bishop's son  
 Published:  2002 
 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 sunshine was hot between the April showers, and the rude, rickety door-stones (they could hardly be called door-steps) of the old farmhouse to which, they led, were wet and dry almost at the same moment, happening at the moment in which our story opens, to be dry; the fickle clouds had scattered, and the sun was shining with pretty nearly midsummer heat. It was about noon-day, and the young girl who had been busy all the morning digging in the flower-beds that lay on either side a straight path running from the front door to the front gate, suddenly tossed aside her bonnet, and flung herself down on the steps. She was tired, and rather lay than sat; and a pleasant picture she made, her flushed cheek on her arm, the cape, lately tied at her throat, drawn carelessly to her lap, her tiny naked feet sunken in the grass, and all her fair neck and dimpled shoulders bare. “My sweet Sister Fairfax: When I was under your hospitable roof, a day or two since,” (he had not been under the roof at all, remember), “I had the rashness to make a proposal to your little daughter which I have not the courage to carry out without your permission. But to come at once to the head and front of my offending, I proposed to take her to see our unfortunate brother, Samuel Dale, of whom, by the way, I hear sad accounts. It seemed to me that it might gratify the childish fondness she appears to feel for him, and do no harm, but you, of course, are the best judge of this, and on second thoughts I have been led to distrust my first impulse; but the little darling has a strange power upon me, and I could not see her suffering without at least seeking to relieve it. If you approve of my suggestion I will report myself for duty in a day or two, so soon as I shall be well enough, and, as I am in the skilful hands of Dr. Allprice, I entertain the most sanguine hopes. If you do not approve, pray forgive me, and believe me, in the deepest penitence, “My sweet Kate: — To prove to you that your memory has been fondly cherished all these years, I return to you a little souvenir that is dearer to me than the `ruddy drops that visit this sad heart.' Suffer no harm to come to it, but let me have it back; I will hold it for a talisman, `and call upon it in a storm, and save the ship from perishing some time.' “I am off a little sooner than I expected, dear Sam,” he said, “and cannot well spare the money to pay the note that will be handed you with this; please arrange it for me and add one more to my many obligations. I will be back at farthest in six weeks, and then we will square up, once for all, I hope. Everything looks bright for me as a May morning. By the way, Kate is charmed with you; she comes near making me jealous! Always and always your affectionate
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3Author:  Cary Alice 1820-1871Add
 Title:  Hagar  
 Published:  2002 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: Fragments of clouds, leaden and black and ashen, ran under and over each other along the sky, now totally and now only in part obscuring the half moon, whose white and chilly rays might not penetrate the rustic bower within which sat two persons, conversing in low and earnest tones. But, notwithstanding the faintness of the moonlight, enough of their dresses and features were discernible to mark them male and female, for the dull skirts of night had now scarcely overswept the golden borders of twlight. The long and dense bar that lay across the west, retained still some touch of its lately crimson fires. “Dear Fren—This is Sunday, and deuced hot and uncomfortable. I have been lying under a maple by the mill-stream—my line thrown out a little way below, and a new book in hand—one of those bewildering productions which are making so much noise—of course you understand: that strange combination, the latest of Warburton's works. I have never forgotten that sermon—so full of eloquent warning to the sinner—so luminous with hope, comforting to the afflicted: the very words seemed leaning to the heart; and how well I remember his saying, `Oh, she was good, and in her life and her death alike beautiful! knowing her goodness, shall it be to us a barren thing? shall we not also shape our lives into beauty? shall we not wash and be clean?' But a truce to sermonizing. My coat is threadbare, and my pockets empty, but as soon as opportunity occurs I mean to do something. When I left the house Nancy had her bonnet on to go to church, but the discovery of a hole in her stocking obliged her to wait, and as the children had used the darning yarn for a ball, and she had dropped her thimble in the well, I fear she must be disappointed. And William too—poor fellow! I left him waiting patiently, and looking much as if he had dressed himself forty years ago, and never undressed since.
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4Author:  Cary Alice 1820-1871Add
 Title:  Married, not mated; or, How they lived at Woodside and Throckmorton Hall  
 Published:  2002 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
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5Author:  Cary Alice 1820-1871Add
 Title:  Pictures of country life  
 Published:  2002 
 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 rain had fallen slowly and continuously since midnight —and it was now about noon, though a long controversy among the hands had decided the time, finally to be three o'clock; no one among the dozen of them had a watch, except Lem Lyon, the most ill-natured, the least accommodating of all the work-hands on the farm, and no man ventured to inquire of him, for he was more than ordinarily unamiable to-day, and lay on the barn-floor apart from his work-mates, with a bundle of oat-straw for his pillow, and his hat pulled over his eyes, taking no part in the discussion about the time, and affecting to hear nothing of it. “I have so many things to say, and am so little used to writing, that I don't know how to begin; but as I promised to keep a sort of journal of every day's experience, I suppose I may as well begin now, for this is the second night of my being here. You can't imagine what a nice ride we had in the open wagon, so much pleasanter than being shut up in a coach—it was such a pleasure to see the stout horses pull us along, and trotting or walking just as Uncle Wentworth directed: I say uncle, because I like Mr. Wentworth, and wish all the time he was some true relation. The straw in the wagon smelled so sweet, sweeter than flowers, it seemed to me; and when we got into the real country everything looked so beautiful, that I laughed all the time, and Uncle Wentworth said folks would think he had a crazy girl. I was very much ashamed of my ignorance, for I thought all country people lived in holes in the ground, or little huts made of sticks, and that cows and horses and all lived together; but we saw all along the road such pretty cottages and gardens, and some houses indeed as fine as ours. I kept asking Uncle Wentworth what sort of place we were going to, for I could not help fearing it was a very bad place; but he only laughed, and told me to wait and see. A good many men were at work in fields of hay—some cutting and some tossing it about—and I kept wishing I was among them, they seemed so merry, and the hay was so sweet. In some places were great fields of corn, high as my head, with grey tassels on the tops of it. I thought men were at work there too, it shook so; but Uncle Wentworth said it was only the wind. And back of the fields, and seeming like a great green wall between the earth and the sky, stood the woods. I mean to go into them before long, but I am a little afraid of wild beasts yet; though uncle says I will find no worse thing than myself there. We met a good many carriages, full of gayly dressed people coming into town; and saw a number of young ladies dressed in bright ginghams, tending the flowers in front of the cottages, sometimes at work in the gardens, indeed, so my dresses will be right in the fashion. In one place we passed a white school-house, set right in the edge of the woods; and when we were a little by, out came near forty children, some girls as big as I, and a whole troop of little boys, all laughing, and jumping, and frolicking, as I never heard children laugh. I asked Uncle Wentworth if it were proper? and he said it was their nature, and he supposed our wise Father had made them right. Some of the boys ran and caught hold of the tail of our wagon and held there, half swinging and half riding, ever so long. Pretty soon uncle stopped the horses, and asked a slim, pale-faced girl, who was studying her book as she walked to ride; and thanking him as politely as anybody could do, she climbed up, right behind the horses, and sat down by me, and spoke the same as though she had been presented. She had a sweet face under a blue bonnet, but was as white, and looked as frail, as a lily. After she was seated, she looked back so earnestly, that I looked too, and saw the schoolmaster come out of the house and lock the door, and cross his hands behind him as he turned into a lane that ran by, which seemed to go up and up, green and shady as far as I could see. I could only see that his cheeks were red, and that he had curls under his straw hat. The girl kept looking the way he went; but if it were he she thought of, he didn't turn to look at her. Close by a stone-arched bridge, from under which a dozen birds flew as we rattled over it, Uncle Wentworth stopped the horses, and the young lady got out, and went through a gate at the roadside; and I watched her walking in a narrow and deep-worn path that was close by the bank of a run, till she turned round a hill, and I could not see her any more; but I saw a lively blue smoke, curling up over the hill-top, and in the hollow behind, Uncle Wentworth said she lived.
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6Author:  Catherwood Mary Hartwell 1847-1902Add
 Title:  A woman in armor  
 Published:  2002 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: 494EAF. Page 009. In-line Illustration. Decorative chapter heading. Bust of a boy surrounded by ivy.
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