Identifier: saturdayeveningp1933unse (find matches)
Title: The Saturday evening post
Year: 1839 (1830s)
Authors:
Subjects:
Publisher: Philadelphia : G. Graham
Contributing Library: University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
tamp, blurredwith sea water, opened jaggedly and then banded by thecensor, had found its way to her business address. It hadbeen posted at Coblenz and told how she was staying onwith the army of occupation. Her brother Gavin, who hadcome out of the furnace unharmed, was at work again inNew York, and with a new firm, Barstow & Updike. Sheasked Mary to get in touch with him and have him callon her, as she was sure he would love to do. And Id meant to, Mary was crying inwardly, assoon as Id moved to something better than this ram-shackle place. Wonder if hes with this firm now! Ialways liked his smile and his queer name, she thoughtas she dropped the letter and went on her way. Gavin—Scotch, they said it was. // THE thing had happened. What to well-ordered reason-ing in the flow of a decently regular life must seem sowrong as to be repulsive and breath taking had happened.Aunt Mabels five one-thousand-dollar bonds had, withouther knowledge, left the japanned box, the silence of the
Text Appearing After Image:
Jit the Station the Telegraph Meitenger Told Me He Had Given You a Telegram and Then Had Seen You Running Toward the Beach vault and its security, for a niche in a brokers safe, where,one of many labeled bundles, it knew darkness at shortintervals between the continual opening and closing of theheavy doors, and security not at all. There it might be likened to several things: To a wistfulquery among a host of other waiting questions, all with thehuman struggle for betterment back of them; to a smallraised fist ^imong a crowd of fists beating against the wallof chance, perhaps only to fall away bloody while the wallcontinued impregnable; to a leaf fastened so feebly to itsbranch that any rough wind must whisk it off to send itsoaring, with a multitude of others as vain, out of sight, upto the storm clouds of mistake, over the sea of failure, overthe mountains of disaster, never to be seen as that indi-vidual leaf again. Obsession resists all examination and argument. As wellmight reaso

Note About Images