Beadle's Dime Novels No. 38: The Wrong Man — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

— 6 THE WRONG MAN. _ of its channel brought it in sight round a jutting point of the | Ohio shore; and after flowing smoothly along for the space b, of two or three miles, the prospect was again closed by 4 f picturesque island, so situated in a curve of the land, that it _ seemed to oppose a barrier to the further progress of the river _. thus giving it the appearance of a lake. A grove of shrub- | bery, with here and there a papaw-tice shooting its taper stem _| gbove the rest, occupied the center of the little island, from whose grassy brink the water-willows dipped their yellow branches in the stream. The margin of the river, on one side, | was a beach of pure white sand, from which rose a chain of . high, romantic hills, their fringed and wavy outline boldly - defined against the western sky. Im the solitary ravines between them, might be heard the tiny dash and roar of some nameless tributary of the Onio, as it tinkled over its uneven bed, or was broken into cascades by the trunks of fallen trees ; and far above, a rude bridge, thrown across one of these nar- row glens, added another picturesque feature to the scene. The opposite shore of the river was a level border of rich bottom-land, sweeping away to a distance from the stream, when its surface became abruptly broken by the hills which rose one behind another, until the topmost range, dim in the distance, terminated the view. The soil on both sides was thickly covered with trees of a size which attested its luxuriance; and, towering far above the rest, the huge sycamore threw its white arms abroad, as - if in conscious superiority to its brothers of the the forest. Though early in the season, a slight frost had already thinned — the foliage of some of the trees, and tinged the leaves of others with those gorgeous hues which render the forest-scenery of our country so glorious in decay. Among the boughs, thus partly stripped of their covering, the misletoe everywhere dis- played its verdant leaves and beautiful white berries; while in the alleys and recesses beneath, enormous gTape-vines twisted themselves from tree to tree, and hung their fantastic festoons through the arches of the wood. Behind a wooded headland, near the island above mew tioned, several thin columns of smoke, curling up in the still: morning air, denoted the spot which had been chosen as the site of one of those villages, which, few and far between, then OmMmicbooksEcom Sere