- Software name: appdown
- Software type: Microsoft Framwork
- size: 303MB
"Well, I do!--every God-fearing Southern man and woman. A woman is all I am and I may be short-sighted, narrow, and foolish, but--Oh, Colonel Greenleaf, you shouldn't have let Doctor Sevier take this burden for you. It's hard enough--"Meanwhile the female children of both races were without instructors; but a remedy was at hand. At Alen?on, in 1603, was born Marie Madeleine de Chauvigny, a scion of the haute noblesse of Normandy. Seventeen years later she was a young lady, abundantly wilful and superabundantly enthusiastic,one who, in other circumstances, might perhaps have made a romantic elopement 169 and a msalliance.  But her impressible and ardent nature was absorbed in other objects. Religion and its ministers possessed her wholly, and all her enthusiasm was spent on works of charity and devotion. Her father, passionately fond of her, resisted her inclination for the cloister, and sought to wean her back to the world; but she escaped from the chateau to a neighboring convent, where she resolved to remain. Her father followed, carried her home, and engaged her in a round of ftes and hunting parties, in the midst of which she found herself surprised into a betrothal to M. de la Peltrie, a young gentleman of rank and character. The marriage proved a happy one, and Madame de la Peltrie, with an excellent grace, bore her part in the world she had wished to renounce. After a union of five years, her husband died, and she was left a widow and childless at the age of twenty-two. She returned to the religious ardors of her girlhood, again gave all her thoughts to devotion and charity, and again resolved to be a nun. She had heard of Canada; and when Le Jeune's first Relations appeared, she read them with avidity. "Alas!" wrote the Father, "is there no charitable and virtuous lady who will come to this country to gather up the blood of Christ, by teaching His word to the little Indian girls?" 170 His appeal found a prompt and vehement response from the breast of Madame de la Peltrie. Thenceforth she thought of nothing but Canada. In the midst of her zeal, a fever seized her. The physicians despaired; but, at the height of the disease, the patient made a vow to St. Joseph, that, should God restore her to health, she would build a house in honor of Him in Canada, and give her life and her wealth to the instruction of Indian girls. On the following morning, say her biographers, the fever had left her.
He merely uttered the mans name, but in precisely the same tone as if he had been a dog. Philopator made no reply, but shrunk into as small a space in his corner as possible.
Farewell war; farewell tomahawk; we have been fools till now; henceforth we will be brothers; yes, we will be brothers.
It was a pleasure to see how nimbly she used her hands, and how swiftly the weaving progressed. Each movement of the young wifes vigorous, rounded, slightly-sun-burned body, though lacking in grace, possessed a peculiar witchery on which no mans eye would have rested with impunity.Lyrcus was no longer very young. He had seen the green leaves unfold and the swallows return some forty times. Nevertheless, he had always scoffed at love and considered it foolish trifling. When he was not forging, his mind was absorbed in the chase and in practising the use of arms.
One day every door in the house was adorned with an olive garlanda son had been born to its owner. Lycon said that the child should be reared. The father was at liberty to expose or even kill it.
By day, Le Jeune and his companion practised with snow-shoes, with all the mishaps which attend beginners,the trippings, the falls, and headlong dives into the soft drifts, amid the laughter of the Indians. Their seclusion was by no means a solitude. Bands of Montagnais, with their sledges and dogs, often passed the mission-house on their way to hunt the moose. They once invited De Nou? to go with them; and he, scarcely less eager than Le Jeune to learn their language, readily consented. In two or three weeks he appeared, sick, famished, and half dead with exhaustion. "Not ten priests in a hundred," writes Le Jeune to his Superior, "could bear this winter life with the savages." But what of that? It was not for them to falter. They were but instruments in the hands of God, to be used, broken, and thrown aside, if such should be His will.