Witch Hazel; or, The Secret of the Locket — page 135: what you’re looking at

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

stranger the handsomest young man she had ever seen, “T was,’”’ he returned, with an expressive shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘‘I suppose I might have made ita profitable season of meditation and self-exam- ination,” he continued, with mock seriousness, ‘*but I am free to confess that I spent the time in berating myself for being such a dunce as to get into so un- comfortable a fix,” ‘ ‘Hazel, I think we must name this place the Dunce’s Stool; this gentleman occupied it yester- day, and we, being so stnpid, shall have to take our turn to-day,” Belle remarked, with a comical grim- ace, that made her companion laugh outright. The young man colored. “T beg that you will not think that my remarks were intended to reflect upon any one but my- self,” he said; ‘‘and now let me see what can be done for your relief; but first allow me to introduce my- self—I am Charles Harwood, barrister-elect, from Loudon, and at your service.” | “Oh, I reckon I know who you are,” Belle re- marked, ingennuously; “you must be the son of Sir Heury Harwood, the great physician. I heard the Duchess of Jersey tell mamma that he had a son who was studying law, though Sir Henry would have pre- ferred him to be a doctor like himself.” “You are right, miss,” replied the young man, look- ing amused at hearing his history thus rehearsed ; ‘“‘T have the honor to be Sir Henry’s son, and it has been the chief regret of my life that ie 2 tastes ran counter to wy father’s wishes; but a hickory tree wou’t bear peaches, sol am cracking away at the hard kernels of the law, instead of dealing out infini- tessimal pellets of sugar to relieve the cowatie secon of suffering humanity. So you know her grace, the