Beadle's Dime Novels No. 20: Florida; or, The Iron Will — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

= PARKER’S GRIEF. 57 __* © God! this is too cruet!” gasped the unfortunate young man.“ Why am I thus taunted, thus degraded? Some one is at work, bent upon my ruin.” He-flung the note down, and sobbed like a child. This undue emotion brought on violent pain, and. the fever of consumption rioted through his veins, blazing like the signal-fires of death on either cheek. “I thought it could not last,” he groaned, referring to his overflowing happiness; “I felt: the sorrow would follow in proportion to the joy. Now, indeed, am I homeless—and how dare I claim Virginia, my wife?” Paroxysm upon paroxysm of grief surged over his soul, He could not think calmly, could not reason, God had deserted him, and ‘the world was dark, dark as the grave. He longed to die—he was in despair. Not his at all times was that buoyant hope that sinks with the receding waye only to be lifted higher with the next... He could see nothing before him but"imadequately paid toil, hardly sufficient to keep life in himself—surely not enough to support a wife, And even that he could not, depend upon. Hundreds of sturdy young-students, poor as himself, were hunting the _ country round for opportunities to keep. the district-schools. Seldom was there a vacancy. To crown all his unhappiness, he felt his physical weakness more than ever. _ It was a sad weight that he had carried the last few months—that he would, not even acknowledge to himself. But the biting pain, the discouraging debility so hard to fight against, the almost imperceptible tokens that disease was gaining ground, told ton twuly Sint there was ule soomy SSS It was a night of bitter struggles; and the morning, that saw Virginia so buoyant with happiness, found him a pale, changed being “J must give her up yet a little while longer,” he said, with weary sighs. “Providence may open.some path for me, though, God forgive me, I hardly have faith in Providence.” A merry, bustling day it was at the cottage. Florida con descended to be very amiable, and was devising a plan to have Mrs. Owen carried down stairs; that she might enjoy the company that had been invited. It was not long after that that old Uncle Barby came in. He had been. i t could not manage to gath 5 & _ 3 =f « . @ ., Ww Commcooks.conn