The lost hunter: A tale of early timesAdams, John Turvill
General
The lost hunter: A tale of early times
Adams, John Turvill
Adventure stories; Indians of North America -- Fiction; New England -- Fiction
The words were uttered with wonderful vehemence and rapidity, and upon
their conclusion, he strode with long strides down the passage towards
the door. Not an exclamation was heard, not a hand raised to stay his
departure, so stupefied were all with astonishment. Upon leaving the
room he rushed into the street, and, forgetful of his promise to Mr.
Armstrong, took his way to his own hut. The tything man, awakening
from his lethargy, and a few others recovering their presence of mind,
went at last to the door, and gazed up and down the street, but the
disturber of the meeting was not in sight, nor, sooth to say, were
any of the number sorry, or wished to meet him that night. Contenting
themselves, therefore, with this slight demonstration of zeal, they
returned to the Conference-room. There, great as was the scandal
occasioned by the interruption, all things soon settled down into
their usual course, and the meeting was regularly concluded and
dismissed.
CHAPTER XI.
_Angelo_.--We must not make a scarecrow of the law,
Setting it up to fear the birds of prey,
And let it keep one shape, till custom make it
Their perch, and not their terror.
MEASURE FOR MEASURE.
The events of the preceding evening caused quite a sensation in the
village. We shall better understand the various opinions and feelings
of the inhabitants by stepping, at about eleven o'clock the following
morning, into the shop, or, as it was called in those days, and would
generally be called now, the "store" of Truman and Jenkins. This was
an establishment at the foot of the hill, where it hung out its sign,
in company with several others of the same character, which professed
to supply all the wants of the community. Here everything was to be
had from a gallon of molasses to a skein of thread, or a quintal of
codfish, to a pound of nails. On one side, as you entered, were ranges
of shelves, protected by a counter, on which were exposed rolls of
flannels of divers colors, and calico and broadcloth, and other
"dry goods," while a showcase on the counter contained combs, and
tooth-brushes, and soaps, and perfumery, and a variety of other small
articles. The back of the store was used as a receptacle for hogsheads
of molasses, and puncheons of rum and wine, and barrels of whisky and
sugar. Overhead and on the posts were hung pails, and rakes, and iron
chains, and a thousand things necessary to the complete enjoyment of
civilization. On the other side was a small counting-room partitioned
off, with a door, the upper part of which was glass, for the
convenience of looking into the shop, in order to be ready to attend
to the wants of such customers as might come in. This little room,
scarcely eight feet square, contained a small close stove, around
which were gathered some half a dozen persons.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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