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Read online books Drama in English at worldlibraryebooks.comIn literature a drama genre deserves your attention. Dramas are usually called plays. Every person is made up of two parts: good and evil. Due to life circumstances, the human reveals one or another side of his nature. In drama we can see the full range of emotions : it can be love, jealousy, hatred, fear, etc. The best drama books are full of dialogue. This type of drama is one of the oldest forms of storytelling and has existed almost since the beginning of humanity. Drama genre - these are events that involve a lot of people. People most often suffer in this genre, because they are selfish. People always think to themselves first, they want have a benefit.


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All problems are in our heads. We want to be pitied. Every single person sooner or later experiences their own personal drama, which can leave its mark on him in his later life and forces him to perform sometimes unexpected actions. Sometimes another person can become the subject of drama for a person, whom he loves or fears, then the relationship of these people may be unexpected. Exactly in drama books we are watching their future fate.
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Read books online » Drama » The Prairie (Fiscle Part 3) Of 2 by J Fenimore Cooper (top non fiction books of all time .TXT) 📖

Book online «The Prairie (Fiscle Part 3) Of 2 by J Fenimore Cooper (top non fiction books of all time .TXT) 📖». Author J Fenimore Cooper



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About Him,  In Order To

Gather,  If Possible,  Some Evidences Of His Future Fate,  From The

Countenances Of Those Gathered Round. Seeing Every Where Grave But

Composed Features,  And Meeting In No Eye Any Expression That

Threatened Immediate Violence,  The Miserable Man Began To Revive; And,

By The Time He Was Seated In The Wagon,  His Artful Faculties Were

Beginning To Plot The Expedients Of Parrying The Just Resentment Of

His Kinsmen,  Or,  If These Should Fail Him,  The Means Of Escaping From

A Punishment That His Forebodings Told Him Would Be Terrible.

 

Throughout The Whole Of These Preparations Ishmael Rarely Spoke. A

Gesture,  Or A Glance Of The Eye,  Served To Indicate His Pleasure To

His Sons,  And With These Simple Methods Of Communication,  All Parties

Appeared Content. When The Signal Was Made To Proceed,  The Squatter

Threw His Rifle Into The Hollow Of His Arm,  And His Axe Across His

Shoulder,  Taking The Lead As Usual. Esther Buried Herself In The Wagon

Which Contained Her Daughters; The Young Men Took Their Customary

Places Among The Cattle,  Or Nigh The Teams,  And The Whole Proceeded,

At Their Ordinary,  Dull,  But Unremitted Gait.

 

For The First Time,  In Many A Day,  The Squatter Turned His Back

Towards The Setting Sun. The Route He Held Was In The Direction Of The

Settled Country,  And The Manner In Which He Moved Sufficed To Tell His

Children,  Who Had Learned To Read Their Father's Determinations In His

Part 3 Chapter 32 Pg 150

Mien,  That Their Journey On The Prairie Was Shortly To Have An End.

Still Nothing Else Transpired For Hours,  That Might Denote The

Existence Of Any Sudden,  Or Violent,  Revolution In The Purposes Or

Feelings Of Ishmael. During All That Time He Marched Alone,  Keeping A

Few Hundred Rods In Front Of His Teams,  Seldom Giving Any Sign Of

Extraordinary Excitement. Once Or Twice,  Indeed,  His Huge Figure Was

Seen Standing On The Summit Of Some Distant Swell,  With The Head Bent

Towards The Earth,  As He Leaned On His Rifle; But Then These Moments

Of Intense Thought Were Rare,  And Of Short Continuance. The Train Had

Long Thrown Its Shadows Towards The East,  Before Any Material

Alteration Was Made In The Disposition Of Their March. Water-Courses

Were Waded,  Plains Were Passed,  And Rolling Ascents Risen And

Descended,  Without Producing The Smallest Change. Long Practised In

The Difficulties Of That Peculiar Species Of Travelling In Which He

Was Engaged,  The Squatter Avoided The More Impracticable Obstacles Of

Their Route By A Sort Of Instinct,  Invariably Inclining To The Right

Or Left In Season,  As The Formation Of The Land,  The Presence Of

Trees,  Or The Signs Of Rivers Forewarned Him Of The Necessity Of Such

Movements.

 

At Length The Hour Arrived When Charity To Man And Beast Required A

Temporary Suspension Of Labour. Ishmael Chose The Required Spot With

His Customary Sagacity. The Regular Formation Of The Country,  Such As

It Has Been Described In The Earlier Pages Of Our Book,  Had Long Been

Interrupted By A More Unequal And Broken Surface. There Were,  It Is

True,  In General,  The Same Wide And Empty Wastes,  The Same Rich And

Extensive Bottoms,  And That Wild And Singular Combination Of Swelling

Fields And Of Nakedness. Which Gives That Region The Appearance Of An

Ancient Country,  Incomprehensibly Stripped Of Its People And Their

Dwellings. But These Distinguishing Features Of The Rolling Prairies

Had Long Been Interrupted By Irregular Hillocks,  Occasional Masses Of

Rock,  And Broad Belts Of Forest.

 

Ishmael Chose A Spring,  That Broke Out Of The Base Of A Rock Some

Forty Or Fifty Feet In Elevation,  As A Place Well Suited To The Wants

Of His Herds. The Water Moistened A Small Swale That Lay Beneath The

Spot,  Which Yielded,  In Return For The Fecund Gift,  A Scanty Growth Of

Grass. A Solitary Willow Had Taken Root In The Alluvion,  And Profiting

By Its Exclusive Possession Of The Soil,  The Tree Had Sent Up Its Stem

Far Above The Crest Of The Adjacent Rock,  Whose Peaked Summit Had Once

Been Shadowed By Its Branches. But Its Loveliness Had Gone With The

Mysterious Principle Of Life. As If In Mockery Of The Meagre Show Of

Verdure That The Spot Exhibited,  It Remained A Noble And Solemn

Monument Of Former Fertility. The Larger,  Ragged,  And Fantastic

Branches Still Obtruded Themselves Abroad,  While The White And Hoary

Trunk Stood Naked And Tempest-Riven. Not A Leaf,  Nor A Sign Of

Vegetation,  Was To Be Seen About It. In All Things It Proclaimed The

Frailty Of Existence,  And The Fulfilment Of Time.

 

Here Ishmael,  After Making The Customary Signal For The Train To

Approach,  Threw His Vast Frame Upon The Earth,  And Seemed To Muse On

The Deep Responsibility Of His Present Situation. His Sons Were Not

Long In Arriving; For The Cattle No Sooner Scented The Food And Water

Than They Quickened Their Pace,  And Then Succeeded The Usual Bustle

Part 3 Chapter 32 Pg 151

And Avocations Of A Halt.

 

The Impression Made By The Scene Of That Morning Was Not So Deep,  Or

Lasting,  On The Children Of Ishmael And Esther,  As To Induce Them To

Forget The Wants Of Nature. But While The Sons Were Searching Among

Their Stores,  For Something Substantial To Appease Their Hunger,  And

The Younger Fry Were Wrangling About Their Simple Dishes,  The Parents

Of The Unnurtured Family Were Differently Employed.

 

When The Squatter Saw That All,  Even To The Reviving Abiram,  Were Busy

In Administering To Their Appetites,  He Gave His Downcast Partner A

Glance Of His Eye,  And Withdrew Towards A Distant Roll Of The Land,

Which Bounded The View Towards The East. The Meeting Of The Pair,  In

This Naked Spot,  Was Like An Interview Held Above The Grave Of Their

Murdered Son. Ishmael Signed To His Wife To Take A Seat Beside Him On

A Fragment Of Rock,  And Then Followed A Space,  During Which Neither

Seemed Disposed To Speak.

 

"We Have Journeyed Together Long,  Through Good And Bad," Ishmael At

Length Commenced: "Much Have We Had To Try Us,  And Some Bitter Cups

Have We Been Made To Swallow,  My Woman; But Nothing Like This Has Ever

Before Lain In My Path."

 

"It Is A Heavy Cross For A Poor,  Misguided,  And Sinful Woman To Bear!"

Returned Esther,  Bowing Her Head To Her Knees,  And Partly Concealing

Her Face In Her Dress. "A Heavy And A Burdensome Weight Is This To Be

Laid Upon The Shoulders Of A Sister And A Mother!"

 

"Ay; Therein Lies The Hardship Of The Case. I Had Brought My Mind To

The Punishment Of That Houseless Trapper,  With No Great Strivings,  For

The Man Had Done Me Few Favours,  And God Forgive Me If I Suspected Him

Wrongfully Of Much Evil! This Is,  However,  Bringing Shame In At One

Door Of My Cabin,  In Order To Drive It Out At The Other. But Shall A

Son Of Mine Be Murdered,  And He Who Did It Go At Large?--The Boy Would

Never Rest!"

 

"Oh,  Ishmael,  We Pushed The Matter Far. Had Little Been Said,  Who

Would Have Been The Wiser? Our Consciences Might Then Have Been

Quiet."

 

"Eest'er," Said The Husband,  Turning On Her A Reproachful But Still A

Dull Regard,  "The Hour Has Been,  My Woman,  When You Thought Another

Hand Had Done This Wickedness."

 

"I Did,  I Did The Lord Gave Me The Feeling,  As A Punishment For My

Sins! But His Mercy Was Not Slow In Lifting The Veil; I Looked Into

The Book,  Ishmael,  And There I Found The Words Of Comfort."

 

"Have You That Book At Hand,  Woman; It May Happen To Advise In Such A

Dreary Business."

 

Esther Fumbled In Her Pocket,  And Was Not Long In Producing The

Fragment Of A Bible,  Which Had Been Thumbed And Smoke-Dried Till The

Print Was Nearly Illegible. It Was The Only Article,  In The Nature Of

Part 3 Chapter 32 Pg 152

A Book,  That Was To Be Found Among The Chattels Of The Squatter,  And

It Had Been Preserved By His Wife,  As A Melancholy Relic Of More

Prosperous,  And Possibly Of More Innocent,  Days. She Had Long Been In

The Habit Of Resorting To It,  Under The Pressure Of Such Circumstances

As Were Palpably Beyond Human Redress,  Though Her Spirit And

Resolution Rarely Needed Support Under Those That Admitted Of

Reparation Through Any Of The Ordinary Means Of Reprisal. In This

Manner Esther Had Made A Sort Of Convenient Ally Of The Word Of God;

Rarely Troubling It For Counsel,  However,  Except When Her Own

Incompetency To Avert An Evil Was Too Apparent To Be Disputed. We

Shall Leave Casuists To Determine How Far She Resembled Any Other

Believers In This Particular,  And Proceed Directly With The Matter

Before Us.

 

"There Are Many Awful Passages In These Pages,  Ishmael," She Said,

When The Volume Was Opened,  And The Leaves Were Slowly Turning Under

Her Finger,  "And Some There Ar' That Teach The Rules Of Punishment."

 

Her Husband Made A Gesture For Her To Find One Of Those Brief Rules Of

Conduct,  Which Have Been Received Among All Christian Nations As The

Direct Mandates Of The Creator,  And Which Have Been Found So Just,

That Even They,  Who Deny Their High Authority,  Admit Their Wisdom.

Ishmael Listened With Grave Attention,  As His Companion Read All Those

Verses,  Which Her Memory Suggested,  And Which Were Thought Applicable

To The Situation In Which They Found Themselves. He Made Her Show Him

The Words,  Which He Regarded With A Sort Of Strange Reverence. A

Resolution Once Taken Was Usually Irrevocable,  In One Who Was Moved

With So Much Difficulty. He Put His Hand Upon The Book,  And Closed The

Pages Himself,  As Much As To Apprise His Wife That He Was Satisfied.

Esther,  Who So Well Knew His Character,  Trembled At The Action,  And

Casting A Glance At His Steady Eye,  She Said--

 

"And Yet,  Ishmael,  My Blood,  And The Blood Of My Children,  Is In His

Veins,  Cannot Mercy Be Shown?"

 

"Woman," He Answered Sternly,  "When We Believed That Miserable Old

Trapper Had Done This Deed,  Nothing Was Said Of Mercy!"

 

Esther Made No Reply,  But Folding Her Arms Upon Her Breast,  She Sat

Silent And Thoughtful For Many Minutes. Then She Once More Turned Her

Anxious Gaze Upon The Countenance Of Her Husband,  Where She Found All

Passion And Care Apparently Buried In The Coldest Apathy. Satisfied

Now,  That The Fate Of Her Brother Was Sealed,  And Possibly Conscious

How Well He Merited The Punishment That Was Meditated,  She No Longer

Thought Of Mediation. No More Words Passed Between Them. Their Eyes

Met For An Instant,  And Then Both Arose

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