| 1 | Author: | Hall
Baynard Rush
1798-1863 | Add | | Title: | The new purchase, or, Seven and a half years in the far West | | | 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: | “A knowledge of your character, derived from mutual
friends, from the opinion of all your acquaintances, and also
from a somewhat intimate personal acquaintance, induces
me to believe that such a lady would fill the vacancy in my
domestic establishment most perfectly and delightfully:—
although I am not vain enough to suppose Miss Smythe
will necessarily feel herself flattered by such a preference
on the part of the writer. As, however, Miss S. on better
acquaintance, might become interested in him—more so at
least than he fears she is at present—he very respectfully,
yet most carnestly, craves permission to pay his addresses
in person. “In a playful conversation on a subject so common when
unmarried persons meet, your daughter, Miss Brown, in a
jesting manner, remarked, that she always referred gentlemen
to her father—as his choice would always be hers.
What was jest with her, with me would have become very
solemn earnest, had I had then to offer any thing beyond
my hand and my heart, to induce such a girl to leave such
a home. Happily, circumstances are now favourably altered;
and willingly now would I ask that father for his
daughter could I flatter myself the daughter could be induced
to gladden and adorn a hearth, which, however
warm in one sense, must be yet cold and cheerless without
the love of a bosom friend. And such a friend would Miss
Brown prove:—and, dear sir, if you think such a match
suitable for your lovely daughter, I sincerely entreat the
communication of your favourable opinion to her in my behalf—hoping
that the daughter's choice then may be as the
father's. “The other morning I went out a hunting with father's
duck-gun what he brung out from Kentucky; but as I
had no luck, I allowed I might as well put off for home;
and so I turn about and goes towards home. As I come to
the edge of our clearin, what should I see away off on the
top of a dead walnut, but a black crow! And so I makes
up my mind to try and hit him. The critter was more nor
three hundred yards from me; but I insinuates myself along
as near as two hundred yards to the feller; when he begins
a showing signs of flittin: and so I trees where I was in a
minute. Well, I determines to try him there, although
'twas near as good as desperut to try a black crow that
distance with a shot-gun; although father's duck-gun's
the most powerful shot-gun in the Purchis. Howsomdever,
I wanted the load out; and I thought I might as
well fire that a way as any other—and so up I draws the
piece very careful, and begins a takin aim, thinking all the
while I shouldn't hit him: still I tuk the most exactest aim,
as if I should; when just then he hops about two foot
nearer my way, as if to get a look round my tree, where he
smelt powder—and then, thinking all the time, as I said, I
shouldn't hit him, as the distance was so most powerful
fur, I blazed away!—and sure enough, as I'm alive—I
didn't hit him!” * * * * * * and the inclosed
from my daughter, to whom was handed your late communication,
contains, I presume, the most satisfactory answer,
* * * * and * * * “I honour you for honesty, as I am satisfied you assign
true reasons for not taking one to share your home; although
the reasons themselves can never seem satisfactory where
one was willing to share another's heart. For, like most
girls in their days of romance, that one cared to find only a
heart when she married. As my own home is sufficiently
comfortable, there can be no inducement to wish another,
however comfortable, in the New Purchase; and where its
owner seems to think `altered circumstances' are important
in winning a woman's love. But to show that kindness is
estimated that would spare my delicacy, by leading my dear
father to think all our conversation had been sportive, I do
hereby most cordially—(here John looked! oh! I tell you
what!)—invite you to our Christmas festivities, when the
writer changes her name from Mary Brown to Mary Burleigh.” | | Similar Items: | Find |
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