The Wasp A Saturday journal of illustration and comment, devoted to the discussion of public affairs, finance, society and art . nug. No, not for a thousand sisters! Chet, I go alone! I firmly said in conclusion,I am going to take leave of your dying sister; Itake leave of her living brother, forever. Shouldharm befall me ?Rpon this mission, I hope you willlive in comfort ever after, because it will have hap-pened whilst gratifying the the last dying request ofyour only sister. From this day on, I added as awind-up, we meet as strangers; and turned to-wards the street. Chet took a boand from m


The Wasp A Saturday journal of illustration and comment, devoted to the discussion of public affairs, finance, society and art . nug. No, not for a thousand sisters! Chet, I go alone! I firmly said in conclusion,I am going to take leave of your dying sister; Itake leave of her living brother, forever. Shouldharm befall me ?Rpon this mission, I hope you willlive in comfort ever after, because it will have hap-pened whilst gratifying the the last dying request ofyour only sister. From this day on, I added as awind-up, we meet as strangers; and turned to-wards the street. Chet took a boand from my side, with a velocityas of being shot away—it was for his hat, which hedrew far upon his eyes, and hastily returned. Lead on, he growled grufflv, and Bill led. Eussian hill in those days, with neither moon norgas to light the way, was a rough road to travel. One-eyed Bill, however, was a good pioneer, andin due course of time we reached the brow. A cold,biting wind swept in from the north, and held us at adisadvantage, whilst we scrambled on towards theforlorn valley of the miserable Sydney Cove Eays of light were darting from out several tents, themajority, however, were silent and dark, most of theoccupants murmuringly huddled in groups aroundthe outside of a particular one; to this one Bill led,and we entered. By the side of an empty dry-goods box, upholdinga sperm candle, cemented to the surface, stood aroughly nailed bunk, filled with motley draperies andclothing—this contained Amy. The sight of so much misery, shot Chet precipit-ously to the bedside, and dropped him on his kneesas if suddenly struck down. • Do you know me, Amy? were the words of theconscience-stricken brother. Dear Chet, came from out the mass of clothing. Can you forgive me. Amy? Dear, dear Chet!


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookidwaspsaturday, bookyear1879