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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Spy"


Died Abner as a fool dieth? Thy hands were not bound, nor thy feet put
into fetters: as a man falleth before wicked men, so fellest thou. And
all the people wept again over him_.' Caesar, ride forward, I say, and
obtain the book as directed; thy master is groaning in spirit even now
for the want of it."
"An excellent text!" cried the dragoons. "Go on--go on--let the
snowball stay; he wants to be edified as well as another."
"What are you at there, scoundrels?" cried Lieutenant Mason, as he came
in sight from a walk he had taken to sneer at the evening parade of the
regiment of militia. "Away with every man of you to your quarters, and
let me find that each horse is cleaned and littered, when I come round."
The sound of the officer's voice operated like a charm, and no priest
could desire a more silent congregation, although he might possibly have
wished for one that was more numerous. Mason had not done speaking, when
it was reduced to the image of Caesar only. The peddler took that
opportunity to mount, but he had to preserve the gravity of his
movements, for the remark of the troopers upon the condition of their
beasts was but too just, and a dozen dragoon horses stood saddled and
bridled at hand, ready to receive their riders at a moment's warning.
"Well, have you bitted the poor fellow within," said Mason, "that he can
take his last ride under the curb of divinity, old gentleman?"
"There is evil in thy conversation, profane man," cried the priest,
raising his hands and casting his eyes upwards in holy horror; "so I
will depart from thee unhurt, as Daniel was liberated from the
lions' den.


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