Beadle's Dime Novels, No. 11 — page 104: what you’re looking at

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

102 THE PRISONER OF LA VINTRESSE. insects in the under-brush and along the hedges, the quick, soft twitter of birds in the branches overhead, the ripple of a brook not far off, all these combined to add to the delightful reflections with which Jessie’s letter, so sweet, so guileless, had filled her mind. They passed here an orchard, with its wealth of ripening fruit, there a patch of some choice vegetable, and again, a field of waving corn. Presently, the paths became more like roads. A thick and ‘pleasant foliage came soon in sight, and the cool smell of the groves greeted the senses deli- ciously. A light stile taken down—Bruno had leaped it previ- ously—and Minerva was in her favorite haunt. How silvery green the trees were, with the sun sending, between their branches, soft pencil-rays of light! Far as the eye could Teach, there was a roofing of green, for here the beautiful elms had been trained in arching sprays, that met, forming lines of beauty. Away, on every hand, these cool, dark paths extend- ed, and seats were placed at intervals, for resting places. Mi- nerya strayed on, smiling to herself} and talking to Bruno for growling, as he went. “Bruno, you're a bad, naughty boy; did you know it, Bruno? And Bruno, I shall report you to your master, when he comes home, your young master, I mean; fie, fie, stop growling, you ought to give a laugh-bark, when I speak of him, did you know it, sir? I wonder if you'll remember him, you bad boy! of course you will, though, a year’s absence doesn’t matter much to a dog, does it, Bruno? What! growl- ing still? What is it at,] wonder? at the beautiful pieces of blue sky up there? or the scent of these sweet wild flowers? for shame! a great, intelligent dog like you, to see nothing lovely in this charming place! Is it a snake, Bruno? I Ww what oan ail the creature? He has done so three or four times, lately. Who's here, Bruno, good dog! you'll pro- tect me, won't you? Yes, yes, fine old Bruno, only I don’t that growling,” she added, musingly. “Of course — nobody here, but I’m nervous, I believe, nevertheless, She uttered a short, shrill scream, and sank back, pale, al- Se Ree ne Pot of © gun hed sounded nese, and Bruno, noble at her conmnicloooks.comn