A Wonderful Secret, or Marion Marlowe's Discovery — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

@ MY QUEEN. The next minute Marion herself stepped out upon the platform, and, with a flourish of his traveling cap, Bert turned and intro- duced her. “Ahem! After an absence of several moons, ladies and gentlemen of Hickory- town, you see before you once more Miss Marion Marlowe. Not the Marion Marlowe who wore a calico sunbonnet and went bare- footed and milked the cows and fed the chickens, but Marion Marlowe, the ll- around champion of everything you have a mind to mention, the indoor, outdoor, down cellar and on the roof high cock-a-lorum, grand high muck-a-muck and general con- _ queror! The bravest heroine that the world ever produced! The most talented actress upon the American stage, Fifth avenue stage, Hickorytown stage or any old stage, and the sweetest, dearest, truest and prettiest girl that ever happened!” Long before Bert was through his speech the honest farmers and their wives were grinning with pleasure. It had seemed won- derful to them to hear of all of Marion’s achievements, so Bert’s extravagant words did nothing but amuse them, but, as Marion sprang into her father’s arms, they crowded around Bert, all talking at once, and nearly shook his hands off in their eager welcome. “Yes, it’s me, Alberto the Great!” Bert cried, in answer to a question, “I didn’t get run over by a trolley-car a little bit. Marion put up that joke, and a rum one it was, too, just to keep Matt Jenkins from chasing me any longer. He was glad I was dead, you bet your boots, and so was I for a while, wasn’t I, Marion?” | “Oh, Bert, do introduce me to some one! Don’t you see Marion is busy and there’s no one to help me!” called Alma Allyn, at that minute. She had been standing at a little distance, looking on at the spectacle. “Cf course I'll introduce you! Beg par- don for forgetting you, Alma,” said Bert, as he stopped shaking hands and turned to her, “Here, this chap is Bill Bennett, an old schoolmate of mine when | was ahem—in the: Academy de Poor House! And this eood-looking chap 1s the Hickorytown post- est fellow in the world, only he master, the b doesn’t know it. * + He designated his friends with a nod of his head as he spoke, and Miss Allyn bowed © and smiled politely, while the country people © bowed back as good naturedly as possible. “Oh, Alma, do forgive me for being so rude as not to introduce you to father first,’ ; 4 called Marion, ‘“‘but I was so glad to see him P that I forgot everything else, and——” 4 A sudden exclamation from Bert made her stop and turn quickly. “s ‘< “Look, Marion! There’s Matt Jenkins! ; For goodness sake, what ails him? «He is — staring at me as if he thought I was a ghost! 4 Quick, somebody! catch hold of the old — brute! I believe he is going to punch me!” 4 Marion had taken one glance at the over- seer of the poor farm, but that was enough. She, too, saw, that her friend was really — in danger. Matt Jenkins was as pale as a ghost, and he was making straight toward Bert, pushing the people out of his way as he came, and flourishing a cane that looked — suspiciously heavy. 3 “Tl learn you to play tricks on me, you imp!’ he roared, savagely. “Tl learn you to put up jokes on old Matt Jenkins! Git out of my way till I git at the brat. I’ve licked him afore, but this time I'll kill him!” “No, yew won’t! Yew won't tech him!” bawled Deacon Marlowe, excitedly, while a dozen more of the bystanders tried to. get between them. ~ “He'd better not try it!” said Bert, in a firm voice. “It’s true he’s licked me before, and you bet I haven't forgotten it! If he touches me now, I won’t answer for conse- ) quences.” He was standing perfectly erect, looking straight at Jenkins, who Was almost foaming at the mouth and was brandishing his cane wildly. “They wrote me he was dead!” he roared, angrily, “but it wuz his doin’s, I know, the little sarpent! Who is he that he dares tew sass Matt Jenkins! Only one of the town paupers fetched up on the poor farm!” “Vou had better not touch him, Matt Jen- kins!’ cried Marion, warmly, “Bert was only a child when you beat him so terribly, — but he’s an athlete now, and he could pound you to jelly.” : Eomicbooks..com