Beadle's Dime Novels No. 127: Bald Eagle — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

78 BALD EAGLE. “Never long for age, my dear,” rejoined the lady, drawing the fair head down, and kissing amid the clustering curls of her brow, for Katrina could disarm the severest observer, with her half-infantile candor. Then Miss De Witt began to tell of the departure of Col- onel Vinton, eying her friend Blanche sharply as she did So, and rather elaborating her praises as she saw how the blushes deepened in her cheek, and her head was bent more Closely to her embroidery frame. Suddenly there was a clatter of horse’s feet, which caused both ladies to look from the lattice, and Katrina exclaimed, “ The redoubtable Don Quixote, and his good Rosinante, as I live.” “It is Jamie; I wonder if he saw Wendell?!” gaid Blanche. ’ At this Katrina blushed, and was intent over the basket of silks, while the youth was ushered in. . Jamie was one of those unfortunates not unfrequent in all communities, who, though not absolutely idiotic, are deficient in that equable adjustment of the faculties essential to the full understanding of the exigencies of society; who fail to sec the relation and dependence of facts and events upon each other, and are therefore incapable of forecast, or self-reliant action. He was ushered, very unwillingly, into the presence of the stately dame, halting and lingering at the threshold, where he stood twirling his brimless hat, his two feet turned in and his knees bent, the very picture of misery, “Did you see Mr. Wendell ?” asked the lady, in a ‘kindly tone. ““He sent me back, he did. He wouldn’t let me go. They’ll kill him, they will—I know it—I feel it,” and he blubbered aloud, “Oh no, Jamie. He'll soon be back again.” “ He ain’t gone to Morristown. He won’t go to New York. They'll go to Yorktown to be killed—all on ’em. I sneaked under the table and heard General Washington tell the whole story,” and he laughed at the revelation, The dame arose from her chair in some trepidation. Blanche whispered, softly, Comilcvooksscom