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301Author:  Thorpe Thomas Bangs 1815-1878Add
 Title:  The hive of "The bee-hunter"  
 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: Originally, the wild turkey was found scattered throughout the whole of our continent, its habits only differing, where the peculiarity of the seasons compelled it to provide against excessive cold or heat. In the “clearing,” it only lives in its excellent and degenerated descendant of the farm-yard, but in the vast prairies and forests of the “far west,” this bird is still abundant, and makes an important addition to the fare of wild life.
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302Author:  Trowbridge J. T. (John Townsend) 1827-1916Add
 Title:  The deserted family, or, Wanderings of an outcast  
 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 the afternoon of a quiet summer's day, a weary foot traveller turned aside from a dusty country road, and on the grassy slope of a pleasant hillside sat down upon the ground. With a heavy sigh he removed from his brow a torn and faded straw hat, and brushing back the moist locks of gray hair that fell upon his forehead, gazed sadly down into the beautiful valley before him. “Dearest Cousin: The terrible excitement of this awful day, the confusion around me, the smell of murder which invades my nostrils, the weighty cares on my mind, my unsteady nerves, and the bruised state of the tin pan on the bottom of which I write this letter, must be my apology for the wretched scrawl I send you. “Adored Alice: How I shall write this note I know not. The tin pan which served me as a desk before has been wrested from me by a barbarous multitude. I am driven to use a rough board, which I hold upon my knee. The truth is, I am looked upon as a maniac by some; others consider me a reporter for the Gazette and Recorder. My friends shake their heads doubtfully at my enterprise. But nothing can daunt me. Write I must, and will! “Star of my Existence, dearest Cousin: In the midst of my imperative duties, I snatch a few minutes from my much-occupied time to keep you posted up. I have testified — told the truth — the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I feel relieved. I have done my duty. I have acted — a man! “Meet me to-morrow morning, at ten, in the spot we have called Shadowland.
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303Author:  Trowbridge J. T. (John Townsend) 1827-1916Add
 Title:  Neighbor's wives  
 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 three years since old Abel Dane laid down the compass and the chisel on his work-bench in the old shop, and himself on his bed in the new house which he had so lately built for his comfort, and which he never left again until he was carried out by his neighbors. “Come to me, Eliza. Do not remember my unkindness. Let nothing keep you. I am in great trouble. Come at once.
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304Author:  Phelps Elizabeth Stuart 1844-1911Add
 Title:  Men, women, and ghosts  
 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: None at all. Understand that, please, to begin with. That you will at once, and distinctly, recall Dr. Sharpe — and his wife, I make no doubt. Indeed, it is because the history is a familiar one, some of the unfamiliar incidents of which have come into my possession, that I undertake to tell it. “I have been so lonely since mother died, that my health, never of the strongest, as you know, has suffered seriously. My physician tells me that something is wrong with the periphrastic action, if you know what that is,” [I suppose Miss Fellows meant the peristaltic action,] “and prophesies something dreadful, (I 've forgotten whether it was to be in the head, or the heart, or the stomach,) if I cannot have change of air and scene this winter. I should dearly love to spend some time with you in your new home, (I fancy it will be drier than the old one,) if convenient to you. If inconvenient, don't hesitate to say so, of course. I hope to hear from you soon.
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305Author:  Bennett Emerson 1822-1905Add
 Title:  The pioneer's daughter  
 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: One of the most disastrous battles for the whites ever fought on the Western frontier, was that known by the inglorious but significant appellation of “St. Clair's Defeat.” This took place within the limits of what is now Dark County, on the Wabash river, in the present State of Ohio, on the 4th of November, 1791. The facts relating to it are briefly these:
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306Author:  Bennett Emerson 1822-1905Add
 Title:  Rosalie Du Pont, or, Treason in the camp  
 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 on a fine, pleasant morning, toward the latter part of September, 1780, that a heavy double knock resounded through the elegant mansion of Graham Percy, in Queen-street. The servant who opened the door, beheld a stranger, dressed in deep black, with a strongly-marked, deadly-pale countenance, and small, black, fiery eyes, that seemed capable of penetrating to his very soul.
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307Author:  Phelps Elizabeth Stuart 1844-1911Add
 Title:  The silent partner  
 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 rainiest nights, like the rainiest lives, are by no means the saddest.
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308Author:  Bennett Emerson 1822-1905Add
 Title:  Viola, or, Adventures in the far South-west  
 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: “Away! away! away! three cheers for freedom! and ho for the sunny South!” “Dear Morton—We meet strangely —we have from the first—and since I saw you on the boat at New Orleans, I have thought there may be such a thing as a special Providence. Oh, Morton, if you love me—if you ever loved me— forsake me not now! Till I saw you last, despair had for months sat like an incubus upon my heart. Hope had fled me, and in vain I labored to lure her back. She came with you; and since then has fluttered in sight, but ready to take wing and leave me forever. You, Morton, and hope, are so united, that neither can come alone. Oh, misery! misery! how well I know the meaning of the term! What shall I say of the past? I could pour out my soul to you in words, were we together; but I can say nothing on paper. Yet something I must say. My mother is dead. My father—oh! that he better deserved the name!—what shall I say of him? Morton, to be brief, my father has sold me to a man I detest, and is now on his way to deliver me to my purchaser. In other words, and to speak without enigma, my father having failed in business, is resolved to retrieve his fortune by disposing of my hand to a French count, who boasts of a distant connection with Louis Philippe. He is rich, and owns a country seat somewhere near the Brazos; but I cannot direct you to it, nor do I even know the vicinity. I only know it is called D'Estang Ville. You may perhaps find it from the name —that is, should you care to trouble yourself about it. Thither I am to be transported; and once there my father has solemnly sworn I shall become the wife of D'Estang, or take the alternative of ending my days in a convent, in the interior of Mexico. Of the two, my choice is already made. I will never wed this count. Morton, my hope is in you, or death. If you fail me, the latter may not. I would not die now— but can I live a life of misery? I have knelt and prayed to my father to forego his terrible resolve. In vain. He is inexorable. Oh! how he has changed of late! He is another being. Mother and wealth were his idols. One is dead—the other lost; and now he would rebuild his fortunes on the crushed hopes and broken heart of his only child. He cannot love me, Morton, and I have learned to fear him. Could he have loved my mother? If so, why am I treated thus? Of M. D'Estang—he once visited my father in the city of Mexico. I was then a child—but it seems he conceived a passion for me even then, which years have strengthened rather than weakened. I say passion; for had he ever loved, he would not buy me like a slave now. How he and my father met within a year, and how one bought and the other sold me, I cannot tell you now—perhaps I may when we meet, should God permit us to meet again on earth. My hand trembles, and tears dim my eyes. Morton, dear Morton, I cannot write more. I have stolen away to do this. Will it ever reach you? and can you assist me if it does? Oh, Morton, by the sweet past! by our then happy hopes of the future! I conjure you to come to my aid! But you must come disguised. If seen and recognised, I verily believe your life will be taken. It is fearful to think so, Morton—it is terrible! No more. “I am a prisoner in the tower; secure the bearers of this; let no one leave the Ville, on pain of death, and come instantly to my release. “Let the bearers of this, my particular friends, be provided with four good horses, and be permitted to leave the Ville without question or hindrance.
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309Author:  Bennett Emerson 1822-1905Add
 Title:  Walde-Warren:  
 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: Far up towards the headwaters of one of the tributaries of the Cumberland river, and not many leagues distant from that portion of the Cumberland mountains which divides the state of Tennessee, there is a wild, beautiful, romantic valley. This valley is about three miles in extent, oval in shape, with the breadth of a mile and a half in the centre, closing up at either end by the peculiar curve of the hills which environ it, and leaving just sufficient space for the passage of the stream alluded to, and a traveled road which winds along its banks and slightly cuts the southern base of the projecting eminences. About central way of this valley, is a quiet, picturesque village, of neat white houses, overlooked by the mountains, and as rural and sequestered as one could wish to find. This village occupies both sides of the stream, which is spanned by an arched wooden bridge, beneath which the waters sparkle, foam and roar, as they dash over a rocky bed, and dart away with the frolic-someness of youth. In fact the stream itself may not inappropriately be likened to a youth just freed from the trammels and helplessness of infancy, when budding strength begins to give buoyancy, independence, ambition, and love of wild adventure; for, nurtured among the mountains, and fed to a good estate, it has burst from the control of parental nature, and now comes hopping, skipping and dancing along, with childish playfulness—occasionally sobered for a moment as it glides past some steep overhanging cliff, like a youth full of timid curiosity on entering a place of deep shadow—but in the main, wild, merry and sportive—laughing in the sunshine—rollicking, gamboling, purling and roaring—now playing hide and seek among the bushes, and now rushing away, with might and main, to explore the world that lays before it, unconscious that aught of difficulty may lie in its path.
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310Author:  Bennett Emerson 1822-1905Add
 Title:  Wild Scenes on the Frontiers, Or, Heroes of the West  
 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: We talk of the ferocity, the vindictiveness, the treachery, and the cruelty of the native savage; and, painting him in the darkest colors, tell how, when his hunting grounds covered the sites of our now proudest cities, he was wont to steal down upon a few harmless whites, our forefathers, and butcher them in cold blood, sparing neither sex nor age, except for a painful captivity, to end perhaps in the most demoniac tortures; and we dwell upon the theme, till our little innocent children shudder and creep close to our sides, and look fearfully around them, and perhaps wonder how the good God, of whom they have also heard us speak, could ever have permitted such human monsters to encumber His fair and beautiful earth. But do we reverse the medal and show the picture which impartial Truth has stamped upon the other side—and which, in a great measure, stands as a cause to the opposite effect—stands as a cause for savage ferocity, vindictiveness, treachery and cruelty? Do we tell our young and eager listeners that the poor Indian, living up to the light he had, and not unfrequently beyond it, knew no better than to turn, like the worm when trampled upon, and bite the foot that crushed him? That we had taken the land of his father's graves and driven him from his birthright hunting grounds? That we had stolen his cattle, robbed him of his food, destroyed his growing fields, burned his wigwams, and murdered his brothers, fathers, wives and little ones, besides instigating tribe to war against tribe—and that, knowing nothing of the Christian code, to return good for evil, he fulfilled the law of his nature and education in taking his “great revenge” upon any of the pale-faced race he should chance to meet? No! we seldom show this side of the medal—for the natural inquiry of the innocent listener might contain an unpleasant rebuke:
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311Author:  Ward Artemus 1834-1867Add
 Title:  Artemus Ward in London  
 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 
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312Author:  Ward Artemus 1834-1867Add
 Title:  Artemus Ward's panorama  
 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: YOU are entirely welcome ladies and gentlemen to my little picture-shop.1 1 “My little picture-shop.”—I have already stated that the room used was the lesser of the two on the first-floor of the Egyptian Hall. The panorama was to the left on entering, and Artemus Ward stood at the south-east corner facing the door. He had beside him a music-stand, on which for the first few days he availed himself of the assistance afforded by a sheet of foolscap on which all his “cues” were written out in a large hand. The proscenium was covered with dark cloth, and the picture bounded by a great gilt frame. On the rostrum behind the lecturer was a little door giving admission to the space behind the picture where the piano was placed. Through this door Artemus would disappear occasionally in the course of the evening, either to instruct his pianist to play a few more bars of music, to tell his assistants to roll the picture more quickly or more slowly, or to give some instructions to the man who worked “the moon.” The little lecture-room was thronged nightly during the very few weeks of its being open. My dear Sir,—My wife was dangerously unwell for over sixteen years. She was so weak that she could not lift a teaspoon to her mouth. But in a fortunate moment she commenced reading one of your lectures. She got better at once. She gained strength so rapidly that she lifted the cottage piano quite a distance from the floor, and then tipped it over on to her mother-in-law, with whom she had had some little trouble. We like your lectures very much. Please send me a barrel of them. If you should require any more recommendations, you can get any number of them in this place, at two shillings each, the price I charge for this one, and I trust you may be ever happy.
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313Author:  Twain Mark 1835-1910Add
 Title:  Mark Twain's Sketches  
 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: 502EAF. Page 003. In-line Illustration. Image of a sarcophagus with the carved figure of a man on top of it. A cat is sleeping on the figure's feet.
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314Author:  unknownAdd
 Title:  Tales of Glauber-Spa  
 Published:  2006 
 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 am quite delighted with this place, now that I have got over that bad habit of blushing and trembling, which Mrs. Asheputtle assures me is highly indecent and unbecoming. She says it is a sign of a bad conscience and wicked thoughts, when the blood rushes into the face. I wish you knew Mrs. Asheputtle. She has been all over Europe, and seen several kings of the old dynasties, who, she says, were much more difficult to come at than the new ones, who are so much afraid of the canaille, that they are civil to everybody. Only think, how vulgar. Mrs. Asheputtle says, that she knew several men with titles; and that she is sure, if she had not been unfortunately married before, she might have been the wife of the Marquis of Tête de Veau. The marquis was terribly disappointed when he found she had a husband already; but they made amends by forming a Platonic attachment, which means —I don't know really what it means—for Mrs. Asheputtle, it seemed to me, could not tell herself. All I know is, that it must be a delightful thing, and I long to try it, when I am married—for Mrs. Asheputtle says it won't do for a single lady. What can it be, I wonder? "One of the great disadvantages of foreign travel is, that it unfits one for the enjoyment of any thing in one's own country, particularly when that country is so every way inferior to the old world. It is truly a great misfortune for a man to have too much taste and refinement. I feel this truth every day of my life; and could almost find in my heart to regret the acquirement of habits and accomplishments that almost disqualify me for a citizen of this vulgar republic, which, I am sorry to perceive, seems in a fair way of debauching the whole world with her pernicious example of liberty and equality. If it were not for Delmonico and Palmo, the musical soirées, and a few other matters, I should be the most miserable man in the world. Would you believe it, my dear count, there is not a silver fork to be seen in all the hotels between New-York and Saratoga? And yet the people pretend to be civilized!
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315Author:  unknownAdd
 Title:  A quarter race in Kentucky  
 Published:  2006 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: Nothing would start against the Old Mare; and after more formal preparation in making weight and posting judges than is customary when there is a contest, "the sateful old kritter" went off crippling as if she was not fit to run for sour cider, and any thing could take the shine out of her that had the audacity to try it. The muster at the stand was slim, it having been understood up town, that as to sport to-day the races would prove a water-haul. I missed all that class of old and young gentlemen who annoy owners, trainers, and riders, particularly if they observe they are much engaged, with questions that should not be asked, and either can't or should not be answered. The business folks and men of gumption were generally on the grit, and much of the chaff certainly had been blown off. Dinner kin be had On the FoLLowin Tums at my HousE to Day priv8s thirty seven cents non comeishund ophisers 25 comeishund frEE i want you awl to ete dancin to beGin at won erclock awl them what dont wish to kevort will finD cards on the shelf in the cubberd licker On the uzual Tums
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316Author:  Hawthorne Nathaniel 1804-1864Add
 Title:  Twice-told tales  
 Published:  2006 
 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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317Author:  De Forest John William 1826-1906Add
 Title:  Kate Beaumont  
 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: IN the good old times before the Flood, in the times which our retired silver-gray politicians allude to when they say, “There were giants in those days,” the new, commodious, and elegant steamship Mersey set out on her first voyage across the Atlantic.
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318Author:  Bennett Emerson 1822-1905Add
 Title:  Clara Moreland, or, Adventures in the far South-west  
 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 first of October, of the year of our Lord 1845, found me a guest of the Tremont House, in the goodly city of Galveston, Texas. An invalid guest, I may add—for I had been confined to my room for some days, suffering much pain from a couple of flesh wounds received in a recent skirmish with a party of Texan brigands, somewhere between my present abode and the river Brazos, while in the act of making my escape with some friends from the head-quarters of a notorious villain, counterfeiter, etcetera, known as Count D'Estang. The reader who has been so fortunate, or unfortunate, (I leave him to decide which,) as to peruse a portion of my narrative, under the title of “Viola,” will readily understand to what I allude; but in order to refresh his memory with the past events of my career, and also give those before whom I may now appear for the first time an inkling of what has already been recorded of my adventures, I will here transcribe a letter, which about this period I wrote home to my worthy parent in Virginia: “In my last, dated at New Orleans, you will recollect I made some mention of a very eccentric travelling companion, by the name of Harley, who, having been introduced to me one night at a ball in Swansdown, renewed acquaintance on the boat at Louisville, and kept me company down the river; and I think I also added, that we had in contemplation a trip to Mexico, merely to gratify curiosity and have some adventures. Well, we have not been to Mexico as yet—but we have had some adventures notwithstanding. If memory serves me right, I told you there was a certain mystery about my friend—for even then I regarded him as such—which I had not been able to fathom; but this has since been explained away, and I now know his whole history. “I have just received a letter from home, which requires my presence there immediately. My poor father has been taken suddenly ill, and is not expected to recover. I shall leave to-day for Macon, via Savannah, taking Viola with me, to whom I now expect my friends to be reconciled, since the blood of the St. Auburns is not in her veins. As I cannot fix on any time for my return, you had better not wait for me; but write to Macon, and keep me advised of your whereabouts. It grieves me to part with so dear a friend—but necessity compels me. Can you not come to Macon? Think of it seriously—I will assure you of a cordial reception. Dear Viola, with tearful eyes, sends her love to you. Do not fail to write, and keep me advised of your doings; and believe me, my dear Harry, “Pardon my seeming uncourteousness of last night! I was agitated, and troubled, but not without cause. After what has already passed between us, I think it no more than right that I should, to some extent, give you the explanation you desired. This cannot be done in the presence of a third party; and I must entreat you not to mention aught of last night's interview to any one! Destroy this as soon as read!
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319Author:  Bennett Emerson 1822-1905Add
 Title:  The phantom of the forest  
 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: Probably no region of the globe ever presented more attractions to the genuine hunter and lover of the backwoods, than the territory known as Kentucky previous to its settlement by the race that now holds possession of its soil. Its location, happily intermediate between the extremes of heat and cold, afforded a most congenial climate; its surface was diversified by steep hills and deep valleys, stupendous cliffs and marshy levels, dense woods and flowery glades, immense caverns and tangled brakes, large streams and wonderful licks; and hither came all the beasts of the forest, to roam in unrestrained freedom through wilds seldom trod by human feet, and gay-plumed songsters from every region swept along the balmy air and made the sylvan retreats ring with their silvery strains. When first discovered by the white man, no human beings claimed ownership of this enchanting land. The red man of the North, and the red man of the South, came here to hunt and fight; but the victor bore off his spoils, and the vanquished went back in dismay, and neither put up his wigwam on the neutral ground. For years after its discovery by the white man, Kentucky could not boast a hundred of the race within its borders; but then the tide of emigration set in strongly toward this western land of promise, and a few years more beheld its broad surface dotted here and there with the rude fortresses and dwellings of incipient civilization. Every step forward, however, was marked with blood. The red man was jealous of the white, and there was for a long period an almost continuous, fierce, and sanguinary struggle for the mastery; while the midnight yells, the wailing shrieks and the burning homes, too often proclaimed the horrid work of death and desolation.
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320Author:  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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