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Richardson, John, 1796-1852

"Hardscrabble; or, the fall of Chicago. a tale of Indian warfare"

"
"Certainly, my dear fellow, but you know as well as
myself, that there exists not the shadow of a hope of
this. That scarecrow, Giles, half-witted as he is, tells
too straightforward a story."
"Elmsley," persisted his friend, "there is every hope--
every reasonable expectation that he may yet survive.
Maria herself first opened my eyes to the possibility,
for, until then, I had thought as you do; and deeply did
her words sink in my heart, when she said, reproachfully,
that, instead of sending a party to escort her, it would
have been far better to dispatch them to the farm, where
her father might, at that moment, be sustaining a siege--
the house being strong enough to admit of a temporary
defence, by even a couple of persons."
"And what said you to that?"
"What could I say? I looked like a fool, and felt like
a school-boy under the iron rod of a pedagogue--but I
resolved."
"And what did you resolve, my enterprising KNIGHT errant?"
"You have just heard my proposal to the gentleman who
piques himself upon his military prudence." returned the
youth, with bitter irony.


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