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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Deerslayer"

By
the way, Wright - is Davis still living?"
"He died about ten minutes since, your honor," returned the sergeant
to whom this question was addressed. "I knew how it would be, as
soon as I found the bullet had touched the stomach. I never knew
a man who could hold out long, if he had a hole in his stomach."
"No; it is rather inconvenient for carrying away any thing very
nourishing," observed Warley, gaping. "This being up two nights
de suite, Arthur, plays the devil with a man's faculties! I'm as
stupid as one of those Dutch parsons on the Mohawk - I hope your
arm is not painful, my dear boy?"
"It draws a few grimaces from me, sir, as I suppose you see,"
answered the youth, laughing at the very moment his countenance was
a little awry with pain. "But it may be borne. I suppose Graham
can spare a few minutes, soon, to look at my hurt."
"She is a lovely creature, this Judith Hutter, after all, Thornton;
and it shall not be my fault if she is not seen and admired in
the Parks!" resumed Warley, who thought little of his companion's
wound - "your arm, eh! Quite True - Go into the ark, sergeant, and
tell Dr. Graham I desire he would look at Mr. Thornton's injury,
as soon as he has done with the poor fellow with the broken leg.


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