Pulp Fiction, 1860 · page 96 of 108
Beadle's Dime Novels No. 13 — page 96: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1860. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
4 98 CEDAR SWAMP}; OR, ‘WILD NAT’S BRIGADE. it any wonder then, that at one of their reunions Nat Ernshaw introduced the once plain blacksmith as “the Hon. Simon Hunt ?” yr ae ~~ ; oF * Under the green turf of Carolina now rest the brave men who once composed Wild Nat’s brigade. Truer hearts never beat, more patriotic bosoms never swelled with the Inspiration of liberty. » Long in the memories of descendants shall they jive, these veritable heroes of the Revolution. Over their graves let us give them our benedictions, and with Percival say :— Here rest the great and good. Here they repose After their generous toil. A sacred ban They take their sleep together, while the year Comes with its early flowers to deck their grayes, And gathers them again, as Winter frowns. Theirs is no vulgar sepulcher,—green sods Are all their monument, and yet it tells A. nobler history than pillared piles, Or the eternal pyramids. They need No statue nor inscription to reveal Their greatness. It is round them; and the joy With which their children tread the hallowed ground That holds their venerated bones, the peace That smiles on all they fought for, and the wealth That clothes the land they rescued,—these, though mute, As feeling ever is when deepest,—these Are monuments more lasting than the fanes Reared to the kings and demigods of old. Touch not the ancient elms, that bend their shade Over their lowly graves; beneath their boughs There is a solemn darkness, even at noon, Suited to such as visit at the shrine Of serious liberty, No factious voice Called them unto the field of generous fame, But the pure consecrated love of home, _ No deeper feeling sways us, when it wakes In all its greatness. It has told itself — To the astonished gaze of awestruck kings, At Marathon, at Bannockburn, and here, Where first our patriots sent the invader back, Broken and cowed. Let these green elms Le all To tell us where they fought and where they lie, Their feelings were-all nature, and they need, comiclbooks. com