Slept badly last night; lots on my mind. I finally got to bed around 4, woke up around 8. That's probably in part why I spent the last two hours napping...but mostly, it was Cooper's fault. Yesterday, I raced through five hundred delightful pages of Scott's Ivanhoe, a rousing adventure drawn with a deft, often sarcastic hand. Robin Hood, King Richard, the valiant Ivanhoe, not to mention two beautiful women with very different sets of virtues. Cooper gives us two beautiful women too, in The Last of the Mohicans, but I can barely tell them apart, and the rest of the book just plods plods plods along. I'm only eighty pages in, and I'll doubt I'll finish today, because one of his pages takes as long as three of Scott's, so this might as well be a twelve hundred page book, for all the speed I'm making through it.