Beadle's Dime Novels, No. 11 — page 67: what you’re looking at

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

FIVE MONTfS AND NO LETTER, 65 sadness in cheek and eye. The mother, as she looked at them, grew sad also, even to tears, for she took out her hand- kerchief, and silently wiped her eyes. - “There he is,” said Jessie, in a low, almost broken yoice. “And no letter, I fear, from our poor boy,” said honest Ben, as he watched the motions of the coming lad with eagle eyes. The boy came nearer—handed a letter; the father took it, and shook his head as he sighed, “ Not from Herman.” ~ “And nearly five months,” murmured the farmer's wife, gently. | “ Yes, nearly five months since we began to wonder whether the poor boy were dead or alive. Well, Heaven give us strength.” ; “We thought so much of him,” mused the fond mother, “If we could hear aught—but this dreadful uncertainty,” groaned the farmer ~- ' “ Terrible! and in that place where they strangle men with the garotte, for no offense but that of loving liberty,” sighed the wife, in response. . Jessie had crept into the parlor, and opened the lately-un- used instrument. As she touched the familiar chords, her hands trembled, and the tears rolled down her pale checks, “T can't bear to hear it,” said the old farmer. “Nay, father, let the child alone; it soothes her. She feels the ‘oss as keenly as either of us,” pleaded his wife. “Ask her to play for us; it will cheer her up, poor little thing; and he loved music—why should not we? Play, Jessie, play, dear,” she called, through the open door; “one of thy father’s favorites, my child.” So Jessie sat there, and, by the moon- light, played softly all her father’s favorite harmonies. The great corner-clock in the entry struck nine, when there Was a hurried knock at the door. It was the post-boy again. “I knew you were looking all the time for letters from away,” he said; “and so, as this came in late, I made bold to bring it.” ° The farmer thanked him. His great, brown hands trem. ~ . as he took from the case his silver-rimmed spectacles, and fambled over the letter long before his eyes rested upon it. s - conniclooks.com