The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman Potter by F. Colburn (Francis Colburn) Adams
page 111 of 521 (21%)
page 111 of 521 (21%)
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HAVING got rid of the major, I desired to change my clothing before supper, and was shown to a snug little room up stairs by a damsel of such exquisite beauty and bashfulness, that my whole soul seemed melting within me, so quickly did her charms enslave me. In answer to a question that hung trembling upon my lips, and which I had only power to put in broken accents, for she passed me the candle, and as she did so, I touched her hand, and saw her bosom heave gently, and her eyes fill with liquid light, out of which came the language of love, she said, with a smile and a lisp, that they called her Bessie. Nature had been all bountiful in bestowing her gifts, for surely, thought I, the nation can boast of no prettier Bessie. I thought of the garden of Eden, of the palm groves of Campania, of every rural beauty that just then beguiled my fancies. But in neither of them did there seem happiness for me without Bessie for the idol of my worship. I had, indeed, touched the hidden spring of her sympathy, and as it gushed forth in unison with my own, I read the flutterings of her heart in her crimsoning cheeks, and contemplated the bounties of that Providence which forgets not the humblest of its creatures. "Oh, sir," said she, "what will my father say?" and she attempted a frown, and started back as I stole a kiss of the cheek now suffused with blushes. Then with an arch toss of the head, she turned her great black eyes rogueishly upon me, and said in a half whisper that I must not attempt it again. But I could not resist the magic of her glance, while, together with the cherry-like freshness of her lips, and the raven blackness of those glossy curls that hung so ravishingly over her fair blushing cheeks, discovering a delicately arched brow, and enhancing the sweetness of her oval face, carried me away captive, and made it seem as if |
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