Beadle's Dime Novels No. 316: Hurricane Bill — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

HOW IT FEELS. < : 58 “ Mustang, old pard,” suddenly observed Hurrieane Bill, with a sidelong glance at his comrade. “It’s hard linés on me, your freczin’ to this little one—though I’m boun’ to say you’ve struck it rich. She’s one o’ them kind ye read about, she is? But then, it knocks me cendways. You'll go git spliced—then what? She cain’t traipse the plains wi’ us —nur she ain’t the kind o’ property most any feller’d keer to leave abind him. You'll settle down——that’s what’s the matter. Then whar’s my pard? Durned ef I ain’t up a stump !” | “ You want me to give you a bit 0’ advice ?” “ Well, mebbe ’twouldn’t do no harm,” hesitated Hurri- eane. “It’s quick told. You jest hitch on to a gal an’ come "long side o’ us. Wekin start even, and then see which one "}1 be gran’daddy fust.” | “ Iv’s easy fer you to talk, pard—you've got the dead open an’ shet on it—you're stuck wi’ the gal, an’ she’s dead gone on you, But, honest Injun, now—-how does it feel to be that a-way, Mustang ?—you know what I mean,” added Hur- ricave, coaxingly. “Well, pard, you kin ax the hardest questions o’ any hu- man .critter I know. How does it feel? Look hyar. S’posim’ you was a b’ar, wi’ the tastes an’ feelin’s 0’ a b’ar. You come along an’ you find a gre’t big holler bee-tree. You climb up it, an’ Var off the bark an’ rotten wood ontel you can crawl inside. Thar you find the honey, all cl’ar an’ pure, as ef i’d bin strained. You pitch in—the honey’s mighty sweet—so’s love Then your feet slip an’ you slide kersmack into the tree-trank o’ honey. Is so thick you don’t sink at once. It’s so sweet you cain’t leave off eatin’ it, though, all the time you’re afeard o’ bein’ sucked in an’ did fer.” “ You ain’t afeard o’ gettin’ sucked in ?” “ Not much—I was jist statin’ the rule,” Jaughed Mustang. “Then if a feller finds a gal who kin turn him cold or hot all over in less’n a wink, jest by lookin’ at him—ef he feels jest ’s though he’d like to Jay down on the ground an’ Jet her use his karkidge fer a doormat; ef he feels jest like he’d be satisfied to set still an’ look at her ontel the sun turned to a - comicbooks.conn