Beadle's Dime Novels No. 33: Maum Guinea and Her Plantation Children — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

BREAKFAST. GOSSIP. 77 —the one expression of the oriental warmth and sunshine. still flowing in the undercurrent of their sluggish blood. The tinkle of the banjo fell on Hyperion’s ear, as the blows of a whip fall on a naked back; he could not bear the tor- ment; and making his friend Guinea promise to go with him that afternoon to Judge Bell's, he went away into the house to attend his young master, who was just rising after the unusual fatigues of the previous day. “ Heigho,” yawned Philip, in dressing-gown and slippers, seating himself before a fire which the chilliness of the day made desirable, “every bone in my body aches. I believe I tradged thirty miles, yesterday; had a splendid day, though ! Bring my breakfast to my room, boy; I'm not going down this morning.” “What's the matter with you?” he asked, as Hyperion arranged the coffee, toast, ham and eggs upon a little table near him. “ Yow had an easy time, old fellow—nothing to do but wait upon the ladies. What’s the matter? Has Rose been giving you the mitten ?” “Oh, no, Massa Philip; de trute is, Massa’ Bell is talkin’ of—of—” his lip quivered and his voice choked up so that he could go no farther. “What is he talking of?’ queried the young gentleman, his curiosity aroused. “ Of sellin’ Rose,’ sobbed Hyperion—and breaking com- pletely down, he cried like a child. “ Whew !”. said Philip, with a long whistle, “that és bad !” The “institution” under which he had grown up had not so murdered all natural sympathy in him, but that he, young man and lover as he was, felt a passing fellow-feeling for the distressed mulatto “ boy.” . “ Oh, I guess that can’t be so,” he added, presently, sipping his coffee, “she’s been in the family so many years. Misa ComicloOolks.coOnn™