Beadle's Dime Novels No. 126: Old Jupe — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

43 OLD JUPE. a year or two; now it received a fatal shock; he took to his bed, and remained there, slowly fadimg away with a cureless consumption. Mrs. Miller, never known as a person of much energy, bore her trouble with a sort of meek patience which robbed it of half its keenness. She would not give way, as her husband did, as long as Mary’s health was such a source of anxiety ; and Mary’s child, too, would need all her care. That thought. alone made her bear up with a fond parent’s heroism. These were days that tried Auntie Clare’s strength, as well as her fidelity. She had Mary to attend upon; or, when her mother wished to sit with her, then auntie went to the house and took charge of Mr. Miller, and straightened out the housework which Jupe got into a tangle. “ While there is life there is hope”. The whole family still clung to a hope. They did not believe that Mary would really be sent off to the state’s prison. When Luke came — home, all would be made right. What especial miracle Luke could work they did not explain to themselves; they only felt that he loved his wife too well, not to move heaven and earth to obtain her pardon. J7ze would ferret out the guilty parties ; he would go to the Governor ; it might be-he would overthrow thejail; nothing seemed impossible when they thought of Luke. That he should ms and allow Mary to suffer any injustice, was not possible. - | What to the rest of the family was so strong an assurance, was to the young wife almost the breath of life. “Tt will only be a month, and Luke will be here,” was the answer she gave to Clare’s attempts at comfort, the first even- ing of her return to prison. “ We will wait till Luke comes,” Day by day she counted the hours and moments, “Iv’s two weeks still, auntie! Oh, how long, how long !” Then, “It’s a week, a whole week yet! I feel certain he will be here by next Saturday. Iam surel can be patient until then! I am patient, am I not, Clare? You will tell my husband how brave I have been.” The Saturday came, and Mary neither ate nor drains Her grated window commanded a view of the river, and there with her pale face resting against the iron bar she sat and gazed, searcely breathing, until the steamer arrived, CoOmicloooks.conn