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Richardson, John, 1796-1852

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


Her friend being engaged with her domestic affairs, which
every lady was at that period in a measure compelled to
superintend, she had thrown herself (still in her morning
dishabille) on a couch with a book in her hand, but with
a mind wholly distracted from the subject of its pages.
After continuing some time thus, a prey to nervous
anxiety, as much the result of Elmsley's long absence as
of her former fears, the sound of the fifes and drums
fell startlingly, she knew not wherefore, upon her ear
and drew her to the door. The men were falling in, and
in the course of a few minutes the little line was formed
a few yards to her left, with its flanks resting on
either range of building, so that the mess-room door,
then open, was distinctly visible in front. At the same
moment, Captain Headley and the lieutenant, followed by
Corporal Nixon and the other men of the fishing-party--
Green only excepted--passed out of the orderly room on
her right, moved across, and took up their position in
front of the parade.
"God bless me, Maria, what is that, or is it his ghost!"
suddenly and unguardedly exclaimed Mrs.


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