Outing . n which I was taking myRip Van Winkle sleep was now shovedimpatiently in front of her, while herquery was answered in a voice of in-creased asperity. Perhaps yoii may find one to suityou among these, and the disgustedsaleswoman reseated herself to resumeher knitting with a manner of markedindifference. Slender white fingers were nowplunged into our midst, turning usgently over, and while polished coatsand conspicuous caps were rattled de-cisively out of the way, a pair of eager OUTING FOR NOVEMBER. eyes recognized my humble, unassum-ing worth, and a shapely thumb andforefinger picked
Outing . n which I was taking myRip Van Winkle sleep was now shovedimpatiently in front of her, while herquery was answered in a voice of in-creased asperity. Perhaps yoii may find one to suityou among these, and the disgustedsaleswoman reseated herself to resumeher knitting with a manner of markedindifference. Slender white fingers were nowplunged into our midst, turning usgently over, and while polished coatsand conspicuous caps were rattled de-cisively out of the way, a pair of eager OUTING FOR NOVEMBER. eyes recognized my humble, unassum-ing worth, and a shapely thumb andforefinger picked me out of my igno-minious prison. The throb of an awak-ened self-consciousness thrilled me toa sense of my dawning destiny. I think one of these will answer, With a joy unutterable I bade aneternal farewell to my companions inseclusion ; for upon receiving me, mymistress turned immediately to thedoor, seeming eager to escape the in-quisitive scrutiny of the shopwoman,which said as plainly as spoken words,. THE FEVER WAS STILL IN HIS EYES. (p. 12b.) my rescuer suggested, hesitatingly. What is the price ? A penny, was the sharp reply. While my ex-owner wrapped me con-temptuously in a bit of paper, my newmistress fished from her well-worn glovethe single penny which was to pur-chase my liberty. You would have selected a better hadthat penny not been your last. Why notbe honest and admit the fact ? I know my mistress felt the silentinsult of those unspoken words, fromthe hurried, shrinking manner withwhich she made her way along the nar-row street, when, heaven knows, she THE STORY OF A PENNY PENG IE had as much right to hold her head upthere as any of the other passers-by, whoall wore the same look of a consciousimpecuniosity, vainly endeavoring tosupport the dignity of a past keenly did she feel the humiliationof having unwillingly betrayed herextreme poverty that a tremulous nerv-ousness shook her delicate frame andset me all of a tremble with a sym-pathy which very
Size: 1283px × 1947px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade, booksubjectsports, booksubjecttravel
