Title:  The Lost Hunter A Tale of Early Times

Author:  John Turvill Adams

Release Date:  March 11, 2005 [EBook #15328]

Language:  English

Character set encoding:  ASCII

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The lost hunter.

A Tale of Early Times.

“And still her grey rocks tower above the sea
That murmurs at their feet, a conquered wave;
’Tis a rough land of earth, and stone, and tree,
Where breathes no castled lord or cabined slave;
Where thoughts, and tongues, and hands, are bold and free,
And friends will find a welcome, foes a grave;
And where none kneel, save when to heaven they pray,
Nor even then, unless in their own way.” 
Halleck

New York: 

Derby & Jackson, 119 Nassau street. 
Cincinnati:—­H.W.  Derby.

1856.

ENTERED according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by

J.C.  Derby,

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern District of New York.

W.H.  Tinson, Stereotyper.

PUDNEY & Russell Printers.

APOLOGY

As one might justly be considered a clown, or, at least, not well bred, who, without tapping at the door, or making a bow, or saying “By your leave,” or some other token of respect, should burst in upon a company of persons unknown to him, and instead of a welcome would deserve an unceremonious invitation to betake himself elsewhere forthwith; so, I suppose, in presenting myself before you, my honored Public, it is no more than civil to say something by way of introduction.  At least, I have observed from my obscure retreat in the quiet village of Addlebrains, that the fashion in this respect, which has prevailed, certainly, since the time of St. Luke, who commences his Gospel with a preface to Theophilus, has come down to the present day, differing therein from other fashions, which, for the most part, are as transitory as the flowers of the field, and commending itself thereby to the thoughtful consideration of the judicious; for it cannot be deemed there is no value in that which has received the sanction of centuries.  Influenced by reflections of this description and the like, I sat down one day in the little retreat, which the indulgent partiality of my friends is accustomed to dignify with the title of my “study,” to endeavor to write a preface, and introduce myself in a becoming manner to my readers.  I was the more anxious to do this properly, because, although