A tourist of to-day, peering from the window of his vestibule train at the electric-lit vision of Three Rivers, as it stars the banks of the Missouri like a constellation against the blackness of the night, would never recognize, in the trim little modern town, the old Three Rivers of the early seventies. To restore the latter, he should first of all sweep the ground bare of the buildings which now adorn it, leaving, perhaps, here and there an isolated old shanty of boards far advanced toward dissolution. He would be called ...
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A tourist of to-day, peering from the window of his vestibule train at the electric-lit vision of Three Rivers, as it stars the banks of the Missouri like a constellation against the blackness of the night, would never recognize, in the trim little modern town, the old Three Rivers of the early seventies. To restore the latter, he should first of all sweep the ground bare of the buildings which now adorn it, leaving, perhaps, here and there an isolated old shanty of boards far advanced toward dissolution. He would be called upon to substitute, in place of the brick stores and dwellings of to-day, a motley collection of lean-tos, dug-outs, tents, and shacks, scattered broadcast over the virgin prairie without the slightest semblance of order. Where the Oriole furniture factory now stands, he must be prepared to see-and hear-a great drove of horses and oxen feeding on bottom-land grass. And for the latter-day citizens, whose police record is so discouraging to the ambitious chief, and so creditable to themselves, he must imagine a multitude more heterogeneous, perhaps, than could be gathered anywhere else in the world-tenderfeet from the East; mountaineers from Tennessee and Kentucky, bearing their historic long pea rifles; soft-voiced Virginians; keen, alert woodsmen from the North; wiry, silent trappers and scouts from the West; and here and there a straight Indian, stalking solemnly toward some one of the numerous "whiskey joints." The court-house site he would find crowded with canvas wagons, noisy with the shrill calling of women and children. Where Judge Oglethorpe has recently erected his stone mansion, Frank Byers would be running a well-patronized saloon. Were he to complete the picture by placing himself mentally at the exact period of our story's opening, he would find the whole town, if such it might be called, seething, turbulent, eager, and-it must be confessed-ready for trouble.
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Seller's Description:
Good. Book. 12mo-over 6¾-7¾" tall. Author's first novel. Boards with moderate wear and soiling; pages dusty with light age toning. 1901 third printing. Stewart Edward White (1873-1946) was an American writer, novelist, and spiritualist. White's books were popular at a time when America was losing its vanishing wilderness. He was a keen observer of the beauties of nature and human nature, yet could render them in a plain-spoken style. Together with The Long Rifle (1930) and Ranchero (1933), Folded Hills (1934) constitute The Saga of Andy Burnett, which follows a young Pennsylvania farm boy who escapes his overbearing step father by running away to California.
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Seller's Description:
Good with no dust jacket. Wear, rubbing and soil to covers, pencil note back end page, missing front end page, spine slant, binding tight, text clean; Small 8vo 7½"-8" tall; 311 pages.
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Seller's Description:
Good. Later printing. Pictorial cloth stamped in black, green and red. Spine slightly cocked, lacking preliminary pages, cloth modestly soiled, a good only copy.