tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7112981.post112173361381081607..comments2023-10-26T06:19:35.938-07:00Comments on The American Mastodon: FUN WITH FUSTIAN FICTIONUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7112981.post-1121800910757659862005-07-19T12:21:00.000-07:002005-07-19T12:21:00.000-07:00I'm getting scary flashbacks of James Fennimore Co...I'm getting scary flashbacks of James Fennimore Cooper . . . <BR/><BR/><I>We will profit by this pause in the discourse to give the reader some idea of the appearance of the men, each of whom is destined to enact no insignificant part in our legend. It would not have been easy to find a more noble specimen of vigorous manhood than was offered in the person of him who called himself Hurry Harry. His real name was Henry March; but the frontiermen having caught the practice of giving sobriquets from the Indians, the appellation of Hurry was far oftener applied to him than his proper designation, and not unfrequently he was termed Hurry Skurry, a nickname he had obtained from a dashing, reckless, off-hand manner, and a physical restlessness that kept him so constantly on the move, as to cause him to be known along the whole line of scattered habitations that lay between the province and the Canadas. The stature of Hurry Harry exceeded six feet four, and being unusually well proportioned, his strength fully realized the idea created by his gigantic frame. The face did no discredit to the rest of the man, for it was both good-humored and handsome. His air was free, and though his manner necessarily partook of the rudeness of a border life, the grandeur that pervaded so noble a physique prevented it from becoming altogether vulgar.</I>T.S.https://www.blogger.com/profile/15745703013751139450noreply@blogger.com