The Rangers; or, The Tory's Daughter: A Tale Illustrative of the Revolutionary History of Vermont and the Northern Campaign of 1777Thompson, Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce)
History
The Rangers; or, The Tory's Daughter: A Tale Illustrative of the Revolutionary History of Vermont and the Northern Campaign of 1777
Thompson, Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce)
Vermont -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
“You hear his honor's remarks,” observed the chairman, at length
breaking the ominous silence. “Have you any propositions to make before
the judge retires?”
Another long interval of deep silence ensued; when Tom Dunning's tall,
sinewy form, and sharp, bronzed features, screwed up with an expression
of sly mischief, was seen rising from a back seat in the room.
“Seeing no one else,” he said, “seems--ditter--disposed to accept your
invitation, Mr. Moderator, I don't--ditter--know but I will make a small
proposition on the occasion. Now, as I take it, we are to remain here
to-night; and as we have now learned that the judge and the people here
are the--ditter--best of friends, I would just move, Mr. Moderator, that
his honor be--der--ditter--invited to take up lodgings with us in the
Court House to-night, so that, if the enemy comes,” he added, imitating
the manner of the judge, as described by Bart, “he can assist us
to--ditter--'_temporize--temporize--till_'--”
Here the hunter bobbed down into his seat, while explosive bursts of
laughter rose from several parts of the room, and a low, half-smothered
titter ran through the whole assembly, at this sly, but cutting allusion
to the part last night taken by the double-dealing judge, who now sat
before them, looking, for the moment, like a suddenly detected criminal.
He, however, while the chairman was calling to order, recovered his
command of countenance, and, by the time the tumult had subsided into
the less noisy expressions of mirth, he was smiling as gayly as the
rest, and affecting to consider the remarks of the stammering humorist
as merely a pleasant joke.
“There is no cheating our friend Dunning out of his joke. I perceive,”
he said, rising and taking up his hat; “and, indeed, I don't know that
I can blame a hardy woodsman for laughing at the idea of one of our
in-door and tender professional men, like myself, sleeping on floors and
benches. I am afraid we deserve it for our effeminacy. Yes, yes, a good
joke, truly! and a good laughter-moving joke is an excellent thing to
go to bed upon, they say,” he added, as with a merry, gleeful look, he
bowed himself out of the assembly.
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account