Beadle's New Dime Novels, No. 49 — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

62 THORNPATH, THE TRAILER; OR, I keep-so still; and now, Miss Mapel, will you tell dis nigget how you come here all ‘lone ?” Mabel related her adventures to the African from the time she was taken up to that moment. “Too bad, too bad, Miss Mapei; but res’ shuah dis cbil® will die.’fore harm shill come to ye ’gin.” “] will feel safe under your protection,” said Mabel, “ for I ‘know you are a brave man, Egypt.” “ Golly, dat’s ’couraging, Miss Mapel. Dat’s de fus’ time dis nigger ebber hear praise from de lips o’ an angel. So come, Miss Mapel, and let’s be gwine, for de good Lor only knows how much trubbles is befo’ us,” and the kind, great- hearted darky took the maiden’s band in bis, and, with his rifle on his shoulder they set off through the woods. _As they moved along the darky kept a wary watch about them; nota leaf rustled that his practiced ear did not catch the sound. The sun had long since been up and threw its golden light over the woodland, that was sparkling with the myriads of dew-drops that hung upon the pendent leaves. Birds sung their morning carols until the woods were vocal with their songs. Bright-eyed sqnirrels frisked and frolicked about up- on the ground and the trees; and the coo) mourning breeze laden with the perfume of flowers, drifted through the -boughs, ever and anon sending a mist of silvery spray upon the two pedestrians that were wending their way through the t, To Mabel, all nature seemed changed from an awful dark- ness into golden light—a wild, romantic paradise. She could scarcely believe that the forest with its golden sunshine, it’s song of birds, its vine-festooned trees, its velvety carpet of preen, its trailing foliage, its beautiful wild flowers, its laden breeze, its baybling brooks, was the same forest with its chilly air, lurking foes, howling beasts, dismal nocturnal sounds, ghostly voices, startling cries—throngh which she had trod a captive and fugitive the night before. Ob, that such a night would never come again!—that such days would ever dawn with joys renewed ! Bat, alas! merge little kuew what w they had day was yet | oo ‘ comicbookszcom e oa . . a -