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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish"

"
Flaxen locks, that half-covered a forehead and face across which ran the
most delicate tracery of veins, added lustre to a skin as spotlessly fair
as if the warm breezes of that latitude had never fanned the countenance
of the girl. Through this maze of ringlets, the child turned her full,
clear, blue eyes, bending her looks, in wonder and in fear, on the dark
visage of the captive Indian youth, who at that moment was to her a
subject of secret horror. Unconscious of the interest he excited, the lad
stood calm, haughty, and seemingly unobservant, cautious to let no sign of
weakness or of concern escape him, in this scene of womanly emotion.
"Mother," whispered the still wondering child; "may we not let him go into
the forest? I do not love to--"
"This is no time for speech. Go to thy hiding-place, my child, and
remember both thy askings and the cautions I have named. Go, and heavenly
care protect thy innocent head!"
Ruth again stooped, and bowing her face until the features were lost in
the rich tresses of her daughter, a moment passed during which there was
an eloquent silence.


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