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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Spy"

The tie which bound the
father and son was of no ordinary kind. In the wide world they were all
to each other. Had Katy but read a few lines further in the record, she
would have seen the sad tale of their misfortunes. At one blow
competence and kindred had been swept from them, and from that day to
the present hour, persecution and distress had followed their wandering
steps. Approaching the bedside, Harvey leaned his body forward, and, in
a voice nearly choked by his feelings, he whispered near the ear of
the sick,--
"Father, do you know me?"
The parent slowly opened his eyes, and a smile of satisfaction passed
over his pallid features, leaving behind it the impression of death,
more awful by the contrast. The peddler gave a restorative he had
brought with him to the parched lips of the sick man, and for a few
minutes new vigor seemed imparted to his frame. He spoke, but slowly,
and with difficulty. Curiosity kept Katy silent; awe had the same effect
on Caesar; and Harvey seemed hardly to breathe, as he listened to the
language of the departing spirit.
"My son," said the father in a hollow voice, "God is as merciful as He
is just; if I threw the cup of salvation from my lips when a youth, He
graciously offers it to me in mine age. He has chastised to purify, and
I go to join the spirits of our lost family.


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