The Lost Hunter - A Tale of Early Times by John Turvill Adams
page 35 of 512 (06%)
page 35 of 512 (06%)
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Perhaps, his decision was a little influenced by the remembrance of
the blue eyes of Miss Bernard, and of the pleasant effect which, from their first acquaintance, they had exerted upon him. However that may be, it is certain, that, although somewhat paler than usual, he appeared to be quite contented with his condition. It was evening, and candles were lighted, and Mr. Bernard, or as he was more commonly, or, indeed, almost universally, called, Judge Bernard, from having been one of the judges of the Superior Court, was sitting in an arm-chair, reading a newspaper; Mrs. Bernard was busy with her knitting; the young lady employed upon one of those pieces of needle-work, which, in those days, were seldom out of female hands, and Pownal looking at her all he dared, and listening to an occasional paragraph read by the Judge from his newspaper. "You are the cause of quite a sensation in our little community, Thomas," said the Judge, laying down his spectacles and newspaper at the same time. "Mr. Editor Peters and the gossips ought to be infinitely obliged to you for wounding yourself, and affording him an opportunity to display his inventive genius and the brilliancy of his imagination, and giving them something to talk about. Here, Anne, read the article aloud for our edification." The young lady ran her eye hastily down the column, and could not restrain her laughter. "Excuse me, papa," she said, "it is too much for my poor nerves. Only think of it; Mr. Peters loads Mr. Pownal's gun with sixteen buck-shot, topples him off a precipice twenty feet high, breaks three of his ribs, and makes a considerable incision in his skull. Never was there |
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