File:The courtship of Miles Standish (1903) (14593460558).jpg

Identifier: courtshipofmile00long (find matches)
Title: The courtship of Miles Standish
Year: 1903 (1900s)
Authors: Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, 1807-1882 Christy, Howard Chandler, 1873-1952, ill
Subjects: Standish, Myles, 1584?-1656
Publisher: Indianapolis, Bobbs-Merrill
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
is heart; but the heart of the brave WattawamatIs not afraid at the sight. He was not born of a woman,But on a mountain, at night, from an oak-tree riven by lightning,Forth he sprang at a bound, with all his weapons about him,Shouting, Who is there here to fight with the brave Wattawamat ? Then he unsheathed his knife, and, whetting the blade on his left hand,Held it aloft and displayed a womans face on the handle,Saying, with bitter expression and look of sinister meaning:I have another at home, with the face of a man on the handle;By and by they shall marry; and there will be plenty of children! Then stood Pecksuot forth, self-vaunting, insulting Miles StandishWhile with his fingers he patted the knife that hung at his bosom,Drawing it half from its sheath, and plunging it back, as he muttered:By and by it shall see; it shall eat; ah, ha! but shall speak not!This is the mighty Captair. the white men have sent to destroy us!He is a little man; let him g 3 and work with the women! 120
Text Appearing After Image:
a THE, MARCH OPMIIvE/S STANDISH Meanwhile Standish had noted the faces and figures of IndiansPeeping and creeping about from bush to tree in the forest,Feigning to look for game, with arrows set on their bow-strings,Drawing about him still closer and closer the net of their ambush.But undaunted he stood, and dissembled and treated them smoothly;So the old chronicles say, that were writ in the days of the fathers.But when he heard their defiance, the boast, the taunt, and the insult,All the hot blood of his race, of Sir Hugh and of Thurston de Standish,Boiled and beat in his heart, and swelled in the veins of his temples.Headlong he leaped on the boaster, and, snatching his knife from its scabbard,Plunged it into his heart, and, reeling backward, the savageFell with his face to the sky, and a fiendlike fierceness upon it.Straight there arose from the forest the awful sound of the war-whoop,And, like a flurry of snow on the whistling wind of December,Swift and sudden and keen came a fli

Note About Images