Roxy Hastings — page 170: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ROXY HASTINGS, 161 “How frank and literal! You will come and see us again as soon as my son comes home 2?” “The leftenant? Oh, hevings! yes, mum: in course.” * But Charles, my younger son will be home in four or five days, and he will so long to see you.” “The brother of my Alfred! Yes, mum; I ghall be go happy to meet him. I shall come assoon as he returns, perhaps before. I know the way now, mum; I know the way. Good-by !” The grateful man did not forget his munificent friends. He came the next day with a most sorrowful face to say that he was utterly ruined and undone forever, and that he had only looked in to bid them good-by before leaping into the river or blowing out his brains. When the terrified women had begged him to become quiet and to tell what was the matter, he proceeded to say that he had been robbed by a fellow-lodger of his pocket-book, containing every dollar that his friends had given him on the preceding day. “Tell the dear leftenant, mum, that my last prayers was for him,” he said, “but I never can survive sich a calamity. I shall just stop to write a note to the coroner, - tellin’ him that nobody murdered me, and in two hours I shall be a cold—” “Stop, Mr. Hartley, stop!” said the distracted widow. ‘Only wait till my son Charles comes—” ‘It’s impossible, mum,” said the distressed man, beating his forehead and pulling ata handful of hair which did not come. “No, l ask nothing now but death, and that I will have.” Pale and trembling, the mother and daughter consulted together. ae “Tll give him a hundred of my money, mother,” said Laura. ‘“‘I’m sure I ought not to hesitate a moment.” ‘‘Good—good-by !” said the desperate man, seizing the door-handle. ‘“Wait—wait, Mr. Hartley! It shall all be made good. Laura has gone to get you another hundred.” ‘“‘Cjan I believe my ears! What angels are in this house! But it shall all be returned some day, if—if I have to earn the money sawin’ wood at two cents a cord. Yes, mum, that’s the kind of man Louis Hartley is.” The money was brought and laid down with trembling fingers, and it was taken up and counted by very steady ones, and was securely pocketed and buttoned up as before. “Vou have saved a life this day, ladies,” said the late oP GComicbooks:..¢o