Beadle's Dime Novels No. 20: Florida; or, The Iron Will — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

JIM CUTTLE’S ADVENTURE. 95 “By the living hokey !” he soliloquized, in tones of astonish- ment, if there isn’t the schoolmaster! poor fellow !—and dead as a door-nail, I do believe.” He touched him upon the cheek—shook him by the shoul- der, but there was no sign of animation. “What am I to do?” muttered the man, looking uneasily round. “IfI had some one to help me, now—but the poor fellow! he’s ligut enough, Pll warrant. Ill get him in the cart, and stop at the Joctor’s, over the bridge. Maybe he’s only in 3 faint, like.” Depositing the body upon some straw in the bottom of his wagon, the kind-hearted teamster jogged along, €very now and then bending down close to the head of the schoolmaster, As he stopped in front of the doctor’s house, a mile from the bridge, he heard a faint groan. “Well, well, Mr. Parker,” he said, leaning over, “you're come to, are you ?” “Who is it—and where am I ?” was the faint response. “Jim Cuttle—in A——,” said the teamster. “Found you on to the beginning of the bridge, putty well done for. Ain’t been drinking too hard, I hope ?” he added, in a jocular tone. “You haye stopped—where are we now ?” asked the invalid, «Well, we're to the doctor’s—I was going to put you aboard of him.” “ No—if you please, Jim, take me right home. I know what to do for myself when I get there.” “ Any thing to suit,” replied the man, gathering up the reins. “How are ye, now ? Got any pain in particular? Pretty sick, ain't ye 2” “ “fim weak, Jim, and my head aches. I shall feel better, however, as soon as I'm at home.” « Well, I hope so,” replied the man, and his horse jogged on. Parker persisted in being left at the door, in not disturb- ing the family, which was none of the pleasantest, and the good teamster gave him a lift, so that he gained the shed-roof with apparent 2ase, ana in a few moments was in his own room. Here, again, he felt entirely prostrated—a burning fever rioted throngh his veins, a blinding pain in the temples almost deprived him of reason. Beside these were the old difficulties — comlclooolkks.ecom) *