Richard Judkins' Wooing: A Tale of Virginia in the RevolutionHains, T. Jenkins (Thornton Jenkins)
History
Richard Judkins' Wooing: A Tale of Virginia in the Revolution
Hains, T. Jenkins (Thornton Jenkins)
Historical fiction; Virginia -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
"I congratulate you, my dear Rose, on your relationship," I said
coldly, and the blood rushed through her face and left it whiter than
before.
"Do you know, my dear Dick, you sometimes bore me most stupidly?" she
answered. And this commonplace incident ended.
Commonplace it was indeed, but what it meant to certain affairs which
happened afterward, you may judge, if you care to listen. It is the
little commonplace affairs that influence the lives of most people, as
anyone may remember who cares to look at the past.
CHAPTER IV
Dunmore failed to appear the next day, and Harrison came over to the
Hall and had the pleasure of the company of both Mary and his cousin to
beguile him.
Will and I, accompanied by Barron, whom we persuaded to join us as a
sort of spirit raiser, took our fowling pieces, a pair of good dogs and
Sam, and sought distraction in the covers below the bend. It is
astonishing how sympathetic young men of good antecedents will become
under certain circumstances. I always liked my cousin Will, and it
seemed to me now that my sister was cruel, and he a much abused friend,
since Miss Carter and I had had a sort of understanding between us. But
no matter, Will and I had always been drawn together, and our silent
companionship was very soothing and restful in spite of Barron's
incessant story telling and irrational humor.
The old soldier had followed around all day without so much as firing
his piece, which he insisted on having Sam carry with the flints at full
cock--much to my boy's disgust. I had always taught Sam to be careful
with weapons, but Barron insisted on readiness above all things, and
would not allow the flints down. We had bagged several brace of fine
birds while he was engaged in other matters, and after seeing that Will
and I were having all the sport he wished to have his weapon ready but
still refused to carry it. Twice there had been premature explosions,
the last of which tore off the rim of the old soldier's hat, but, after
each discharge, he made Sam reload and proceeded on his way, tranquilly
spinning story after story in high good humor, and avoiding anything
that might ruffle the feelings of young men in--well, say in an uneasy,
or perhaps diseased state of mind.
We tramped along all day, and late in the afternoon we were to the
eastward of the bend and making our way slowly through the heavy timber
towards the river in the lower reach. Will was slightly in advance of
the rest of us, and as he broke through the thick fringe of cover near
the river bank, he gave a sudden cry of astonishment and stopped. Sam
promptly caught the lock of Barron's gun in some undergrowth and
instantly exploded it, much to our annoyance, as it peppered my favorite
setter severely and sent him howling down the river shore with a dozen
or more small shot sunk deep in his hide.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account