Beadle's Dime Novels No. 47: Tim Bumble's Charge — page 45: what you’re looking at

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

OMENS, 48 “ Well, we stood there thinking of the cowld corpse an’ the poor mother’s sorrow, when somebody kneeled down to take a look—an’ he sprung up to his feet with a loud schriek, an’ says he, ‘By the howly Virgin, shes a livin’ P ” - * Now, Bridget,” gasped Tim, whose eyes stood out like two small globes, “ now, Bridget, it’s a sin and ashame to be tellin’ sich unprobable stories.” “But didn’t I see wid me own eyes,” and isn’t seein’ belavin’ ?” queried Bridget, indignantly. “ Very well—then Ill howld me tongue ; it’s no use for me to be talkin’.” “IT ax your pardon,” said Tim, humbly, “Ill not inter- rupt ye agen.” uni “ But it makes me shiver in me bones to think of it,” con- tinued Bridget, “ how as I stood there, there come a whisper sort o’ hollow like, ‘ she’s alive,’ and the people, specially the younger ones, begin to scamper from the place. It were a time of confusion intirely, an’ a thing I could’nt see through, for 'd sot up wid her, an’ saw the child breathe her last— an’ made her shrowd and seen the breath kindly out, and had the mates an’ sperrits at the wake, an’ I couldn’t belave anythin’ about it. But as thrue as ye live, Tim—” “ Howly saints, what ?” cried Tim, with stifring eyeballs. “The girl was alive, an’—she’s alive this day,” said Bridget “And d’ye call ‘iat an accident?” queried Tim, shaking as ‘he spoke, and laughing a little; “if it were, it were a mighty fine one, and it'd not trouble me if it happened same to mesilf, when I lave ye a widder, Bridget.” * Sure, it’s a burial I like to see whin I go to a buryin’,” said Bridget, coolly, “ and a weddin’ whin I go to a weddin’ ; aither one is proper in its place. Well, well; by the way, me cotton kinks; there’s goin’ to be hard words somewhere. But what is Mr. Harrison going off for ?” “Why, afther he’s miide his tower, I hear.” said Tim, quietly, for the story his wife had been telling had subdued him, “his father’s goin’ to make him into & merchant. It’s the life of variety they say he wants, and that'll give it, Then, sure, won’t we go to the city wid them, un’ won’t you an’ me shine, Bridget—och !” comichooks.conn |