Beadle's Dime Novels No. 14 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

54 THE EMERALD NECKLACE. occasion like the present. The summer-house, with its conven- ient table was willingly resigned to him for the time being, while the party dispersed itself amid the groves as inclination led. Rosalie could do no better than get up a pretty romp with Lulu; for Pennon was absorbed in that stupid book which she wished the unknown woman had not been so for- getful as to leave; and Noyse was paying back her past con- duct in her own coin—since the new arrivals he had left her to herself—try as artfully as she might, she could not perceive that she retained a fraction of her power over him. Sitting at the foot of an elm, the host forgot his company, in the whirl of conjectures which danced through his brain. Whence this book? Did spirits bear it bodily through the air, anct deposit it in this lonely island to remind him of that far-away being whom he still loved, despite of her rejection of his suit? Or was Clematis herSelf so near to him that he had but just missed’ seeing her? Had she been here? What could have drawn that quiet farmer’s daughter to this remote -and almost unknown region? He was in a maze of perplexity. He turned every page, as if he would read therein the answer to his questions—but the book would not tell him what he wanted to know. “De luncheon is ready to sarb,” said the swart Galleon, gleaming out of the pagoda, as turbaned ser- vants gleam out of the pagodas of the Orient. “Blow the horn, then,” ordered the host. ~“Hav'nt you a tin-horn, or a cow-bell, Galleon? | ; “Blow the hugay, Beat the gonguin.” . “ Hay'nt no tin horn, massa, but I’se a tin-pan here, and dis squelcher what I made de lemonade wid.” “ Rattle away, then;” and the unmusical music of the tin- pan reverberated through those enchanted forest aisles, fright- ening bee and bird, bough and blossom, into silence. The group chattered like magpies over their cold fowl, their sandwiches, ambrosial wines and iced sweets—all but the host, who said as little as he ate, which was little enough. Rosalie noted these signs, almost hoping they were the tokens of his having been seized with an affection of the heart, which was, indeed, true, though the cause was far removed from any ap parent source. | comiiclooks.com