Beadle's Dime Novels, No. 91: The Lost Cache — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

FAIRY-LIKE MUSIC. 59 . Harry was sure that this was real, and the same irresistible © impulse that he had previously felt moved him to improvise a reply, and he did so, since in low, but clear and manly tones: ** Coming across the deep, Whether you wake or sleep, Soon he will fly to his love and’ his life ; Soon he will ask it of you, He, the brave and the true, Ask you to be his own dear wife,” Considered as a literary composition, Harry was not. satis- fied with this effort, and he was still less satisfied when he perceived that he had made’an end of the music on the other side. He listened, but no more sweet sounds rippled to him through the night air. If he had been able to cross the chasm, and explore the mystery, he would not have hesitated to do so;' but it was impossible, and he walked slowly back to the camp, hardly certain whether he was awake and * in his right mind. He found Myers nodding over his tifle: and accosted him in a hurried, excited manner, that woke him up. — “What is the matter, Harry?” asked the faithful sentry, noticing the peculiar appeieanae: of his friend. “Have you seen a ghost ?” | “T hayen’t seen one, my boy, but I have lieard one.” “Here is more trouble. Don’t tell Farrar, or he will make us build another fort. Was it a spirit of health, or—the other thing‘ - “J considered it a healthy ‘ spirit, for it had good lungs.” “What did it do or say? Tell me all about it, Harry, for I am getting drowsy, and want something to rouse me up.” Harry related his adventure) and his friend listened with a smile and a whistle, both expressive of incredulity. “That is such stuff as dreams are made of, Harry. The moonlight has got into yeur head, and has set your wits to wandering. If it will spoil meat and fish, it is no wonder that it has a softening effect on your brains.” a Ae “There is nothing the matter with my brains, and I heard ! “that singing, as sure as I live.” “You had better go to rest, my boy, and sleep off this fit, By the-way, it is time to call Farrar. Don’t ‘tell him any ‘“comliclooolks. corn