MihaElla > Recent Status Updates

“Was it the fault of Le Renard that his head was not made of rock? Who gave him the fire-water? who made him a villain? 'Twas the pale-faces, the people of your own color."

"And am I answerable that thoughtless and unprincipled men exist, whose shades of countenance may resemble mine?" Cora calmly demanded of the excited savage.

“Do the pale-faces love their children less in the morning than at night?" asked the Indian, coldly.

"By no means," returned Heyward, anxious to recall his error, if he had made one; "the white man may, and does often, forget the burial-place of his fathers; he sometimes ceases to remember those he should love and has promised to cherish; but the affection of a parent for his child is never permitted to die.”

Uncas offered his hand to the grasp of Heyward. During this act of friendship, the two young men exchanged looks of intelligence which caused Duncan to forget the character and condition of his wild associate. In the meanwhile, Hawkeye, who looked on this burst of youthful feeling with a cool but kind regard, made the following reply:

"Life is an obligation which friends often owe each other in the wilderness”

Lady,I have listened to all the sounds of the woods for 30 years,as a man will listen,whose life & death depend on the quickness of his ears.There is no whine of the panther,no whistle of the catbird,nor any invention of the devilish Mingos,that can cheat me! I heard the forest moan like mortal men in their affliction;often,& again,have I listened to the wind playing its music in the branches of the girdled trees

“You have a pair of legs that might make a long path seem short! you journey sometimes, I fancy, with tidings for the general."

"Never; I follow no other than my own high vocation, which is instruction in sacred music!”

Come,friend,said Hawkeye,drawing out a keg from beneath a cover of leaves,towards the close of the repast,& addressing the stranger who sat at his elbow,doing great justice to his culinary skill,try a little spruce;’twill wash away all thoughts of the colt,& quicken the life in your bosom.I drink to our better friendship,hoping that a little horse-flesh may leave no heartburnings atween us.How do you name yourself

but I see nothing,nor do I hear the sounds of man or beast;'tis strange that an Indian should understand white sounds better than a man who,his very enemies will own, has no cross in his blood,although he may have lived with the redskins long enough to be suspected! Ha! there goes something like the cracking of a dry stick,too—now I hear the bushes move—yes, yes,there is a trampling that I mistook for the falls

Then,Hawkeye, he continued,betraying his deep emotion only by permitting his voice to fall to those low,guttural tones,which rendered his language,as spoken at times,so very musical; "we were one people,& we were happy.The salt lake gave us its fish,the wood its deer,& the air its birds. We took wives who bore us children; we worshipped the Great Spirit;& we kept the Maquas beyond the sound of our songs of triumph!

“Listen, Hawkeye, and your ear shall drink no lie. 'Tis what my fathers have said, and what the Mohicans have done." He hesitated a single instant, and bending a cautious glance toward his companion, he continued, in a manner that was divided between interrogation and assertion, "Does not this stream at our feet run towards the summer, until its waters grow salt, and the current flows upward?”

[...] Your fathers came from the setting sun, crossed the big river, fought the people of the country, and took the land; and mine came from the red sky of the morning, over the salt lake, and did their work much after the fashion that had been set them by yours; then let God judge the matter between us, and friends spare their words!

“Should we distrust the man because his manners are not our manners, and that his skin is dark?" coldly asked Cora

Will you not speak to him,Heyward,that I may hear his tones? Foolish though it may be,you have often heard me avow my faith in the tones of the human voice!

It would be in vain;& answered,most probably,by an ejaculation.Though he may understand it, he affects, like most of his people,to be ignorant of the English;& least of all will he condescend to speak it,now that war demands the utmost exercise of his dignity

“His eye, alone, which glistened like a fiery star amid lowering clouds, was to be seen in its state of native wildness. For a single instant, his searching and yet wary glance met the wondering look of the other, and then changing its direction, partly in cunning, and partly in disdain, it remained fixed, as if penetrating the distant air.”

[...] but never before have I beheld a beast which verified the true Scripture war-horse like this: 'He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength: he goeth on to meet the armed men. He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha; & he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the shouting.' It would seem that the stock of the horse of Israel has descended to our own time; would it not, friend?

There was one man, however, who, by his countenance and actions, formed a marked exception to those who composed the latter class of spectators, being neither idle, nor seemingly very ignorant.
The person of this individual was to the last degree ungainly, without being in any particular manner deformed. He had all the bones and joints of other men, without any of their proportions...

“Mine ear is open, and my heart prepared:
The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold:—
Say, is my kingdom lost?"
 
—William Shakespeare, Richard II”

...although she may not have fulfilled one of the principal objects of her being, by becoming a mother, her example will survive her;— though Providence has denied the full exercise of her excellences, it has at the same time rendered her a striking instance of female dignity, by exhibiting to the world the difference between affection and caprice, and by shewing how much imagination is inferior to Heart...

Yes, I have long loved you— how tenderly, how purely, none can ever know; but could I, with a certainty of my fate before my eyes,with the knowledge that my days were numbered,& that the sun of my life could never reach its meridian, woo you to my love, to make you miserable! No, dearest! your gentle heart will mourn the brother and the friend too much for its own peace; it needed not the sting of a stronger grief

“[...] You know these feelings from experience, do you?"

"No child, my very nature is charity; if the request had been made to me, I should have sent the desponding youth to my father, and if he refused, to my mother—"

"And if she refused?"

"Why then I should have said, two negatives make an affirmative.”

“The road to conquest with her lay through her heart, and was but little connected with her imagination.”

It was a look that came directly from, and went to, the heart.

I am afraid that George has suffered from his exposure. Do not ask him to play, for he will be sure to comply

Oh! the chicken has only taken cold,cried Maria;If he does not play, what will you do? you came here to hear him only

Has Miss Henly ears for no other performer, then?asked Seymour Delafield

Miss Henly has as many ears as other people,said Maria,but she does not condescend to use them on all occasions

Thank fortune,Miss Henly,he said,that bravura has ceased,& I can now inquire how you recovered from the fatigue of your walk?

I suffered no fatigue to recover from,replied the lady,raising her eyes to his with an expression that told the youth he had better talk straight forward at once;I walk too much to be fatigued with so short an excursion

You came here to favour us with your skill on the harp,Miss Henly?

No

Well, Charlotte, you have seen him at last! & I am dying to know how you like him!

To save your life, said the other,laughing,I will say a great deal, although you so often accuse me of taciturnity—but who is HIM?

Him! why, Delafield!—Seymour Delafield!—the pattern for all the beaux—the magnet for all the belles—& the delight of all the parents in town!

His own, too?inquired Charlotte,a little archly

“Some live in airy fantasies,
And in the clouds do move,
And some do burn with inward flames—
But few know how to love."
ANON. BALLAD”

I am tongue-tied at present,but not on every subject, do tell me of St. Albans—of Regulus— who is he?

Who is he?—why, nobody!—one must have something to write about,you know,to a friend

Julia felt sick & faint—her colour left her cheeks as she forced a smile,& uttered,in a low voice— But Antonio—Stanley?

A man of straw, cried Anna,with unfeeling levity;no such creature in the world,I do assure you!

“Young as Julia was, she had already learnt, that it is not enough for our happiness that we have the consciousness of doing right, but it is necessary that others should think we have done so too.”

“It was certainly delightful to be loved, and so loved—to be attended, and so attended; but the heart of Julia was too unpractised to relish the laugh and observations of a malignant world”

Well, I may be mistaken—Oh, he can't be more than forty, or thirty, continued the man, watching the countenance of Julia; he is a man that looks much older than he is

Is he strong and active?

I guess he is—he's as strong as an ox,& active as a cat, said the other, determined he should pass.

[...]

Julia had heard enough—for ox she had substituted
Hercules,& for cat, she read the feathered
Mercury

Under the age of 25,men commonly act at the instigation of sudden impulse,& young Weston was not yet 21.He had long admired Julia for her beauty & good feelings;he did not see one half of her folly,& he knew all of her worth;her enthusiastic friendship for Miss Miller was forgotten;even her mirth at his own want of heroism had at the moment escaped his memory & the power of the young lady over him was never greater