The Freemason's Daughter: A Novel — page 203: what you’re looking at

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

196 THE FREEMASONS DAUGHTER. “It is writing, then”? demanded Meg. “ It «8 writing!” replied the postman. ‘Can you read it ?” “ Partly !” ‘Do tell us what he says ?” eagerly exclaimed Mrs. Bentley, who was burning with curiosity; “ Lord, Lord! only to think I should have lived all these years, and not know writing when I see it. But I suppose,” she added, “‘it is not common writing?’ I must have known that.” “It certainly is not common wrtting,’ observed the man, with a smile. “ Well, what does he say ?” ‘That I must not tell you.” “Not tell!’ repeated both the women, in a tone of disappointment. ** You will one day know. Good bye,” added the postman ; “ it’s a fortunate thing for more than one that this paper fell into my hands.” With these words, the speaker placed it carefully in his pocket-book, and left the house of the widow, to distribute, from door to door, the tidings of joy, mis- fortune, wealth, poverty, and death. After all, the postman is the only real fate—the three sisters, with their thread, distaff and shears, as Michael Angelo has gloriously painted them, a mere ‘fable. Poor Meg, unable to obtain intelligence of her hus- band, returned home, and passed the day as wretchedly COniiclooecl SS (SO