Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons
THE SUPPLICANT
Cora had cast herself to her knees; and, with hands clenched
in each other and pressed upon her bosom, she remained like
a beauteous and breathing model of her sex
"Nor yet then," interrupted Cora, "by many ages; I speak of a thing of yesterday. Surely, surely, you forget it not."
"It was but yesterday," rejoined the aged man, with touching pathos, "that the children of the Lenape were masters of the world. The fishes of the salt lake, the birds, the beasts, and the Mengwe of the woods, owned them for sagamores."
Cora bowed her head in disappointment, and, for a bitter moment, struggled with her chagrin. Then elevating her rich features and beaming eyes, she continued, in tones scarcely less penetrating than the unearthly voice of the patriarch himself,—
"Tell me, is Tamenund a father?"