File:St. Nicholas (serial) (1873) (14803035893).jpg

Identifier: stnicholasserial371dodg (find matches)
Title: St. Nicholas (serial)
Year: 1873 (1870s)
Authors: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Subjects: Children's literature
Publisher: (New York : Scribner & Co.)
Contributing Library: Information and Library Science Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
Digitizing Sponsor: University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

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werefumbling with their purses and asking him towait. Their fingers trembled so that they tooklong to open them; and Jerry quickly saved themthe trouble by snatching their purses from their 1909.) THE REFUGEE 149 hands and dropping them, one after the other,into the great bag-like pockets of his riding-coat. Empty the boot, he cried to Yates; and seewhat you can find. Mr. Yates was nothing loath to obey. Oneafter the other he threw the parcels down intothe road after he had first ripped them open witha knife. Then were there all manner of thingsscattered on every side: soft goods from the ing fondly to her doll, he raised his hand as ifabout to .strike. But something stayed the blow,for he paused and then passed on. Down upon the road, he gaily swung himselfacross his horse. Yates quickly followed suit. Jerry Abershaw, the wrecker, gave one lastglance at the sad wreck of the London-Ipswichcoach, and politely doffed his hat. Then, diggingin their spurs, both he and Gipsy Yates set off
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WITH ONE SPRING THE YOUNG MAN WAS AT HIS THROAT. dyers and hard goods from the ironmongers;kettles and books and toys; articles of clothing,kitchen utensils, tobacco, pictures, and knickknacksof every possible description. There was, inshort, no kind of thing that did not seem to bethere. Parcels addressed to watchmakers and jewelershe never troubled to investigate: they went un-opened into his pockets; until the boot was rifledand altogether empty. Jerry Abershaw came down the coach, with hispockets fat with purses, watches, and coin. Ashe passed the little girl, trembling but still hold- at a gallop in the direction of Colchester; andsoon the sound of the clattering horses haddied away in the silence of the night. Monsieur des Ormeaux politely took a pinchfrom his snuff-box; and then out came his petejaculation. Ma foi! he remarked, in the same tone ofmonotony as before. Ma foi! a more prettyspectacle I have never a wish to see! And ashe uttered the words, an owl turned out of thewo

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