Beadle's Dime Novels No. 47: Tim Bumble's Charge — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

Sa b ‘ TIM BUMBLE’S CHARGE. have to tell, savin’ an’ except iv’s a quare family, wid a craziness running around in it.” “A craziness! What do you mean, Bumbledyhum ?” _ “What I say, tobe sure. The boys in -that family ’ave always kicked up a boderatidn with themselves, makin’ folks mighty oneasy, such as drownin’, an’ bein’ fished-out o” lakes an’ rivers in this an’ furren countries. It’s very quare, to be sure, for if a body ’ave*riches and all the fruits of the airth an’ the fishes of the sea, an the fowls of the air, to keep him in spirits, and make him a ygintleman, there’s sure to be a black skelington in the bottom of his trunk. But, whist! I tell ye, now—they’re clos’t upon us, and they'll hear. Sure, it’s no purtier faces I’ve seen, savin’ that of Miss Coraline, and Mr. Francis, an’ your own.” The horses’ hoofs now sounded n near, and quiet voices spoke of the beauty of the scene. Coraline still advanced very slowly toward the water’s edge, never turning ler head; she was too well-bred for that. The young couple, very young and handsome, looked that way, especially the youth, attracted; no doubt, by the golden beauty of the curls, blown from : under the hat, and the graceful contour of the figare. Buam- ~ ble, as he called himself, (aid his name was Tim Bumble) . respectfully raised his apology for a“ straw b’aver,” while the young lady bowed and smiled toward little Arty, who was * really a beautiful child. “ Now do you know any story about them ?” queried Arty, turning again toward the Irishman. | “Oh, whist! there was a man once got married there !” “ Well, go on—do go on,” cried the child, impatiently. . “ What'll I go on for! Sure, isn’t that the end of all | stories ?” “But not of this one, I'm sure. Come, now, Bumbledy- hun.” - “Plaze, Miss Arty, I wouldn’t tell you that story for a hundred dollars,” said Bumble, solemnly. — “ Yes you would—yes you will—come, go on, now. I'll give you—oh! Bumbledyhum, Pll give you a hundred dollars if you will.” ° “ Ah! Miss, i’ll be a good many years before you do that, an’ when I git it, Pll be, mabbe, in my grave, for you'll commicloooks.corn