Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

yooh Py a ; P ¥ ws gH te. : alt r : 4 « : . . : mm, a As A , ; . ar MEN. ” by 4 a, \ 4” "* 7 P, f y "AR ves re - , 2 8 } fig ¢ w 2 ae ry ¥ ay “ei +2 ¢ ; 7 vy a > * ’ - ww y" st i ‘Ss ‘li ye vf : ‘ ; y : . To Avoid Shek and ead a brief rest, ee turned -into a field, through which a sparkling brook ran, and threw herself on the yielding eTrass. *«.- = , s ‘ “How soft it feels!” she murmured; “how cool, how tender ! Mother Nature—the only mother I ever knew.” She removed her hat, bathed her face and hands and smoothed her hair. Next she took off her shoes and stockings, ~ bathed: her blistered feet, and arose, feeling infinitely rested and refreshed. — “TF T only had ae ieee to eat!” she thovght, “TI feel as though I could walk all day.” She had half a dozen pennies in her pocket. She dgunted - over the seanty hoard with wistful eyes at its scantiness. “Poor Dick! the last of his last gift—a bright silver half- dollar,” she murmured. “At least, it will buy me a bun for > breakfast. I will go into the village and find out if I am on the right road to Brooklyn.” She walked briskly along, relieved and refreshed by her bath, and reached the straggling outskirts of the village as the church clock was striking seven. The bustle and stir of the new day had begun—shops were opening, house doors stood wide, many people passed her up and down the dusty street. She stepped into the first bake- shop she met, and laid down her handful of pennies. “Six cents’ worth of buns, please,” she said to a fat woman ~ behind the counter. ~~ | The woman did them up in a paper and handed them to y, ba looking curiously at the pale young face. ly. “I know most every one in H——, but I don’t know you.” — “Ves,” said Kstella, “I’m a stranger. I’m going to Brook- ~ |yn, if can find the way.” ee en 4 oA & . ~ a = y s ’ . > . J \ - < Ld “Find the way! Why, Lor’! you don't mean to walk. it? ” - “Yes; it is straight on, isn’t it 2? rete, : —/Its ‘straight on, sure enough,” said the woman, with a jJaugh; “but it’s rather a piece-—sixty miles fier 2 - Hadn't you better take the stage? It passes at noon.” - 2 “No, thank you,” replied the ‘girl, with a sigh. “I must By walk. Good-morning.” u e She passed out of the shop into the sunlit morning. Sixty a miles to Brooklyn, and Brooklyn only the first stage of that __-weary journey to Chelsea. What a wild-goose chase it looked! a yas aaa to her, in search of a relative she had never seen, who i; t be dead for what she knew; or, if alive and still at the | 2 s ald place, a relative who might. scornfully refuse to acknowl- fe soe C dee the tes eas" vagrant’s claim. Her heart sank i in her “You are a stranger here, ain’t you?” she asked, familiar- | eh | Wandering on an unknown journey to a strange land, as it ‘EcomicbooksiGco