The Story of Pocahontas
THE STORY OF POCAHONTAS By Charles Dudley Warner The simple story of the life of Pocahontas is sufficiently romantic without the embellishments which have been wrought on it either by the vanity of Captain Smith or the natural pride of the descendants of this dusky princess who have been ennobled by the smallest rivulet of her red blood. That she was a child of remarkable intelligence, and that she early showed a tender regard for the whites and rendered them willing and unwilling service, is the concurrent evidence of all contemporary testimony. That as a child she was well-favored, sprightly, and prepossessing above all her copper-colored companions, we can believe, and that as a woman her manners were attractive. If the portrait taken of her in London--the best engraving of which is by Simon de Passe--in 1616, when she is said to have been twenty-one years old, does her justice, she had marked Indian features.
"Why?" persisted the boy.
The girl was digging in a crevice for a stone and said, "Can you get
that out?"
John worked at it a moment and handed it to her with, "Why?"
She threw it, standing up to give her arm strength. She sat down and
folded her hands and waited for another "why." When it came she said,
"Oh, you know why." When he protested she answered, "Ma thinks Molly's
too young."
"Too young for what?" demanded the boy, who knew.
"Too young to be going with boys."
There was a long pause, then he managed to say it, "She's no younger
than you were--nor half as old."
"When?" returned the girl, giving him the broadside of her eyes for a
second, and letting them droop. The eyes bewitched the boy, and he
could not speak. At length the girl shivered, "It's getting cold--I
must go home."
The boy found voice. "Aw no, Bob and Molly are still up there."
THE STORY OF POCAHONTAS By Charles Dudley Warner The simple story of the life of Pocahontas is sufficiently romantic without the embellishments which have been wrought on it either by the vanity of Captain Smith or the natural pride of the descendants of this dusky princess who have been ennobled by the smallest rivulet of her red blood. That she was a child of remarkable intelligence, and that she early showed a tender regard for the whites and rendered them willing and unwilling service, is the concurrent evidence of all contemporary testimony. That as a child she was well-favored, sprightly, and prepossessing above all her copper-colored companions, we can believe, and that as a woman her manners were attractive. If the portrait taken of her in London--the best engraving of which is by Simon de Passe--in 1616, when she is said to have been twenty-one years old, does her justice, she had marked Indian features.