Beadle's Dime Novels No. 14 — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

56 i7s THE EMERALD NECKLACE. in this wild spot, Paul ?”’—it was nearly the first time she had — ever called him by his first name, and she spoke it now very tenderly. “ Why! they are superb, those emeralds! it would give Tiffany & Co., a glow to see them. Let me examine them, will- you? The setting is very antique, very. It has rusted apart in places, from age, although of the purest gold. They must have lain here ages, as you might say.” “J do not think they have been here long, Miss Rosalie.” “Oh, they certainly must have been here forever! The Indians never mae any such ornaments. They must have been buried with some princess of a race long since extinct, who lived in a splendor like that of ancient Pera; and now the river has worn into the shore until it has washed this trinket from her grave. J always preferred emeralds to all the other precious stones. “Those must be worth quite a little fortune.” : She did not return them to Pennon, She stood, fingering them, admiring them by word and look. Her whole attitude said, “give them to me!”—her eyes were full of a covetous fondness, and a smile rested on her face. She knew that the young man was generous, and as he had no near female rela- tives to need such a bauble as this, it seemed to her quite proper and probable that he would say— “ Keep it, my dear Miss Rosalie. I have no use for an ar- ticle like that, myself£” But Pennon had no such idea. Reaching out his hand for the gems most reluctantly resigned, he thrust them into his vest-pocket without saying another word about them; and vexed at her disappointment and at his abstraction, Rosalie was glad when they came in sight of the rest of the party. “ We shall hardly reach home by five o'clock, if we do not embark immediately,” said Pennon, springing into the fairy bark, and gallantly stretching forth a hand in aid of the la- dies. “The cook cautioned me not to keep dinner waiting, unless we wished to spoil it.” _ Hardly had the boat shot out into the stream, its crimson- corded sail and golden-striped pennant fluttering in the suu- shine, and its passengers full of mirth and vivacity, when they were passed, at a safe distance, by one of those huge steamers which plow our western and northern lakes and rivers) A comiclooks.com