Beadle's Dime Novels No. 14 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

BOARDING-HOUSE SUPPER. 9 places he viewed in his reverie, as it was not until after the stm had set, and he had reposed in his arm-chair an hour and a half that he chose from such a variety an abode to his liking. It would scarcely be proper to say that Pennon chose an abode, for in fact he had only resolved to go journeying in a certain way, and allow his stopping-place to be a matter of chance, to be decided by likings or events. Like many others of a turn of mind like his, and especially accompanied by the taste for sketching, he thought of making a rambling expedition, partly on foot, down into a beautiful part of his native State, making some drawings for future paintings, and amusing himself with any adventures which might befall. Planning out some of the particulars of such an excursion, . he relapsed into a deep reverie, from which he was aroused by a tap at the door, when the landlady thrust her good- natured face into the room, begging the young gentleman to come to tea. “The bell has rung and rung,” said she; “the other board- ers has all supped and gone away. I should a thought you was not in, if it was not so often that I have known you not to hear the bell. I suppose you have been thinking up another of those beautiful stories which I hear people tellin’ of—though, law sakes! I don’t get _ time to read, for efforts to make my boarders comforta Thus she rattled on as they descended the stairs together, for Pennon was her favorite, and the only one whom she would not have got out of tempér with for keeping her table waiting. “Yes, Mrs. Butterby,” returned her guest, “I have been thinking up an excellent story this time. It will take all summer to complete, but I will come back and tell it #0 you next November.” “Come back! You don’t mean to say you have intentions of leaving us, sir?” and the laugh died out of the dimples in the landlady’s rosy face, as she pr wongenoens at the board to pour out the tea. “It is getting too warm to stay in the city, Mrs. Butterby. - Lam going into the country to-morrow, but you will sea.me again in the fall, Providence permitting.” “ conmniclsooks. Gorn