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1Author:  Duganne A. J. H. (Augustine Joseph Hickey) 1823-1884Add
 Title:  Bianca, or, The star of the valley  
 Published:  2001 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: DUSK was deepening over the Alpine summits, and huge shadows stalked slowly downward, broadening gloomily through the valleys. All nature was sinking into the sealed quiet of a winter's night, only to be broken, during the long hours, by the rumbling thunders of shifting fields of snow in the passes and declivities of the mountains, or perchance the sudden rushing crash of an avalanchine slide of gathered ice, bearing terror and destruction to the slumbering villages below.
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2Author:  Duganne A. J. H. (Augustine Joseph Hickey) 1823-1884Add
 Title:  The Prince Corsair, or, The three brothers of Guzan  
 Published:  2001 
 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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3Author:  Duganne A. J. H. (Augustine Joseph Hickey) 1823-1884Add
 Title:  The tenant-house, or,, Embers from poverty's hearthstone  
 Published:  2001 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: WHEN a stranger, under guidance and protection of police, or a home missionary, fearlessly breaking bread with outcasts, penetrates some gloomy court or narrow alley in the great Christian city of New York, he beholds destitution and squalor of most repulsive feature: he discovers tottering buildings crowded with sickly and depraved human beings; stalwart, malign-looking men, glancing furtively at every passer-by; brazen-browed women, with foul words upon their reeking lips; children of impure thoughts and actions, leering with wicked precocity. When he enters the wretched abiding-places of these unhappy people, he may find, amid associations of vice and uncleanness, many suffering and patient souls bearing earthly martyrdom with serene trust in their Heavenly Father, and plucking, even out of their “ugly and venomous” adversity, the “jewel” of immortal peace. Such struggling ones do not dwell long in the darkness and dolor of their probation; for the celestial ladders, let down from Mercy's throne, rest quite as often upon the black pavement of a tenant-court as amid the flowers that tesselate a palace garden; and up, unceasingly, on the shining rounds, glide disenthralled spirits of the poor and lowly watchers for their Lord. “Your letter was received yesterday, and I have spent the hours since in weeping and prayer. I have prayed for you, dear Charles! with my heart sobbing, well-nigh to break. O could I ever dream that you would leave me for another? But I must not chide you—God knows how I love you, dearest—I would lay down my life for you cheerfully, without a murmur. But it is a hard sacrifice you require of me—to give you up to another woman, Charles! when you have sworn to love no other one but your Margaret. You tell me you do not love the lady—that you will marry her only for your worldly prospeets! O Charles! I feel this is all wrong; but, alas! what dare I say to you? I am poor—without fortune but my deep love—God knows, I would resign a throne for your affection, if I were a queen, instead of a portionless girl. Charles! what was it that you said?—O Heaven! did I understand your meaning?—that your love for me would remain unchanged, and we should be happy after your marriage! After your marriage, Charles! Do you not know me better? Do you think I would consent to do wrong, even of my great love for you? No, Charles! after your marriage, we must never meet more! Beloved, bear with me—it is the last time I shall annoy you. You will wed the lady, Charles! Do not wrong her trust!— be kind to her when she becomes your—wife! make her happy! love her—and forget me! I shall not live a great while, dear Charles; for my heart will break, in thinking of the past, and of my hopes, all, all withered. Farewell, dearest! I submit to your wishes, but I must never see you after you are another's. Adieu, Charles!— for the last time, my Charles! God bless and protect you! Dear, dear Charles — husband!—I resign you. Farewell, forever! “My dearest Rebecca,”—so the note ran—“I am thinking of you by day, dreaming of you at night, adoring you always. I have much to tell you, sweet one, and must see you to-day. Fail not to meet me, at the usual hour, at our trysting-place, darling of my soul.
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