Who is constance fenimore woolson?

Constance Fenimore Woolson

Constance Fenimore Woolson (March 5, 1840 – January 24, 1894) was an American novelist and short story writer. She was a grandniece of James Fenimore Cooper, and is best known for fictions about the Great Lakes region, the American South, and American expatriates in Europe.

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Famous quotes containing the words constance fenimore woolson, fenimore woolson, constance fenimore, fenimore and/or woolson:

    O, pluck was he to the backbone and clear grit through and through;
    Boasted and bragged like a trooper; but the big words wouldn’t do;
    The boy was dying, sir, dying, as plain as plain could be,
    Worn out by his ride with Morgan up from the Tennessee.
    Constance Fenimore Woolson (1840–1894)

    On like the wind they hurried, and Morgan rode in advance;
    Bright were his eyes like live coals, as he gave me a sideways
    glance;
    And I was just breathing freely, after my choking pain,
    When the last one of the troopers suddenly drew his rein.
    —Constance Fenimore Woolson (1840–1894)

    But, after the war was over, just think what came to pass—
    A letter, sir; and the two were safe back in the old Bluegrass.
    The lad had got across the border, riding Kentucky Belle;
    And Kentuck she was thriving, and fat, and hearty, and well;
    He cared for her, and kept her, nor touched her with whip or spur:
    Ah! we’ve had many horses, but never a horse like her!
    Constance Fenimore Woolson (1840–1894)

    On like the wind they hurried, and Morgan rode in advance;
    Bright were his eyes like live coals, as he gave me a sideways
    glance;
    And I was just breathing freely, after my choking pain,
    When the last one of the troopers suddenly drew his rein.
    —Constance Fenimore Woolson (1840–1894)

    But, after the war was over, just think what came to pass—
    A letter, sir; and the two were safe back in the old Bluegrass.
    The lad had got across the border, riding Kentucky Belle;
    And Kentuck she was thriving, and fat, and hearty, and well;
    He cared for her, and kept her, nor touched her with whip or spur:
    Ah! we’ve had many horses, but never a horse like her!
    —Constance Fenimore Woolson (1840–1894)