ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Pulp Fiction, 1867 · page 59 of 96

Beadle's Dime Novels No. 131 — page 59: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Beadle's Dime Novels No. 131 — page 59: Pulp Fiction, 1867

A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1867. 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.

a THE RETREAT BY THE BEACH. 63 CHAPTER VII. DRIFTING WITH THE UNDERTOW. DurtnG those warm July weeks there had been another romance weaving down on the gray sands of the Jersey shore. Glitter of sunshine and glitter of waves, the fleecy clouds high up in heaven, the purple clusters of the morning-glories, the flash of a woman’s eyes, the fibers of a young man’s heart, were all woven into the web. | One day Tangee—who now always dressed with care, and who never ran barefooted except when, shyly, in the dawn- light or the moonlight, she stole out in her black-and-red bathing suit, for an hour’s sport with her old. playmate, the ocean—made herself preéminently beautiful She was not expecting Oliver, as she knew that he did not intend visiting the beach until near the first of August. She had bade fare- well to her school-days, and been home about two weeks, the pride and pleasure of the whole crew of fishermen round about, and the especial delight of old Joe, whom she had not learned to flout in the increase of her charms and accomplish- ments. . On this particular day, Tangee, having nothing else to do, dressed herself ina soft, fleeey white dress, and gathering a lap-full of morning-glories, which had opened afresh as the day began to decline, she wove a wreath for her black hair. Then, noticing that a cool air had set in from the ocean, she took a book and ran down to the beach, where she seated her- self in a favorite spot, quite close to the water, hidden from the world by a bit of wreck and a copse that sprung up around its protecting shelter—a kind of torquoise set in the gray bracelet of the sands. She liked it here, because she seemed so entirely alone with the sea, the heaven, and her own thoughts. ‘Not that she had any thing in particular to think of She felt well and contented. Oliver was coming ; the Jolly Jack and its freedom was delicious after the thral- dom of school, the weather was pleasant, and a3qptsoletcom