Beadle's Dime Novels No. 35: East and West — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

16 THE BEAUTY OF WIDLLARD’S MILL. Constance squeezed her brother’s hand rather tightly; but nodded her plumed head gayly at him and his companion as she put her pony into a dashing gallop in the direction of the open prairie. “If she rides that way I shall not overtake her at all,” said Fletcher, as he turned to the office to order his horse. “Oh, she’s only showing off—she couldn’t help that, you know,” returned young Lord; “but make haste; and good- by to you, my friend—the stage is waiting for me.” | And so the young fortune-hunter went his way, while his proud and beautiful sister went another, with equal fearlessness. The morning was bright and bracing, the scenery novel, and the occasion romantic. What more does youth require to in- spire it with enthusiasm ! Constance found herself, after her smart gallop, quite alone in the midst of the long, level bottom, miles from any house, though here and there, far ahead of her, could be seen sinzle settlers’ cabins; for in the rarified air of these prairies distant objects appeared as plainly as nearer ones—a fact which she had already learned. She was beginning to fear she had out-rode her escort alto- gether, and to moderate her pace, taking time for observation. “It is- glorious to be so free!” she exclaimed, exultingly. “T never knew before what freedom was. No, I should think not !” she added, with a gay laugh. “Here am I, a fashiona- ble young woman of two-and-twenty, taking a morning ride of as many miles, alone over the ‘ trackless prairie,’ in search of lost relations. I wonder (sotto toce) what poor mamma would have thought ? “Tt is grand, though, this endless river-meadow, with bluffs on either side as wild as mountains if not as lofty; and this crystal air—there’s nothing in the States to compare with it. Get up, my Rosinante!” she cried, touching her pony smartly with the whip ; “ but not so, either, Rosy ; I beg your pardon ; we have to wait for our escort; and if he does not soon ap- pane, we shall miss the family ‘dinner-hour. “ Behold, here are two roads, looking like two gray Sheen on the green and yellow of Dame Nature’s spring toilette, and as they both float off in nearly the same direction, (as if the old dame had got her streamers in a flutter with the German.) ~ comicloooks.cormn