The Duke of Stockbridge: A Romance of Shays' RebellionBellamy, Edward
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The Duke of Stockbridge: A Romance of Shays' Rebellion
Bellamy, Edward
Shays' Rebellion, 1786-1787 -- Fiction
The Laurel Hill walk, as I observed before, was an old favorite with
Desire, and in her present frame of mind it seemed no sufficient reason
to forsake it, that after this she often met Perez there. It is a
pleasant excitement, playing with lions or other formidable things.
Especially when one has long been in terror of them, the newly gained
sense of fearlessness is highly exhilarating. Desire enjoyed playing
with her lion, calming and exciting him, making his eyes now half fill
with tears, and now flash with passion. The romantic novelty of the
situation, which might have terrified a more timid maiden, began to
be its most attractive feature to her. Besides, he was really very
good-looking, come to observe him closely. How foolish it had been of
her to be so frightened of him at first! The recollection of her former
terror actually amused her; as if it were not easy enough to manage such
a fellow. She had not been in such high spirits for a long time. She
began to think that instead of being a hateful, terrible, revolting
tragedy, the rebellion was rather jolly, providentially adapted,
apparently, for the amusement of young ladies doomed to pass the winter
in dismal country towns. One day her mother, commenting on the fact that
the patrol and pass system of the insurgents had been somewhat relaxed,
suggested that Desire might go to Pittsfield. But she said she did not
care to go now. The fact was she preferred to play with her lion, though
she did not mention that reason to her mother. When from time to time
she heard of the fear and apprehension with which the gentlemen's
families in town regarded Perez, she even owned to being a little
complacent over the fact that this lawless dictator was her humble
adorer. She finally went so far as occasionally to ask him as a favor to
have this or that done about the village. It was such fun to feel that
through him she could govern the community. One afternoon, being in
a particularly gracious mood, she took a pink ribbon from her neck,
knotted it about the hilt of his sword as an ornament.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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