Beadle's Dime Novels No. 14 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

8 THE EMERALD NECKLACE. dew, distant views, rustic mowers cutting grass, butter out of the spring-house, etc., according to the fancies of city people with which they adorn in their summer dreams that otherwise dreary waste, the country. “To-morrow will be the first day of June,” he said, to him- self. “It is time to be thinking of a retreat for the summer. This room has served me well for the past six months, but it is not so pleasing in its aspect under the rays of this glaring sun.” He looked around dissatisfied upon the medley of things which made of his one apartment—parlor, dressing-room, library, and atelier; yet there was a mingling of affection with his discontent, for he had too warm a heart to bid adieu without regret to a place where he had spent so many hours both of pleasure and weariness. Any four walls within whose protec- . tion he had slept sweet sleeps, dreamed fair dreams, which he had peopled with the creations of his pen and pencil, and where he had felt safe from storm and cold—any four walls within which he had lived (and Pennon knew the full mean- ing of the verb ¢o live), had a claim upon his regard. With a kindly glance he surveyed those things to whieh he was about to bid farewell; while the sun, throwing the full force of his beams in at the windows, made the light and heat intolerable. Not a breath of cool air could he woo down from amid the fierce brick battlements which arose upon his outer view, driving him back to the contemplation of his books covered with dust, of the Psyches and Madonnas, Roses and Hebes of his canvas blushing in the broad day, of the soiled bed-cover, and of the worn-out slippers and faded carpet. The paints upon his pallet smelled disagreeably; nothing seemed so senseless as the lines he had written an hour before for the Magazine, and which now lay in torn bits upon the floor. All things had on that common-place expression which is so distasteful, causing Pennon to say to himself decidedly : “To-morrow I will go away from here.” . Leaning back in his arm-chair, he wandered away in thought to all the retreats he had either seen or heard of—Newport, Greenland, Saratoga, Rome, the Source of the Nile, the Mountain House, Brighton, the North Pole, the Cape, the Sault Ste. Marie. aia other fashionable and unfashionable commiclbooks.cormn