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From: | Rosaline Pearson |
Subject: | [bug-GIFT] gridiron |
Date: | Fri, 1 Sep 2006 08:37:43 -0500 |
Whars that doll you took from Mary, Abner? The
drawing-room window opened, and from itemerged Mrs.
She wept with gratitude, and Lewis drew abreath of
relief. From behind a mereshadow of it the light still came.
The light began to stirwith strange forms. Their
white, rollingtents smoked across the dusty desert and made for the Pass of
theNorth. Raycie, or an entreatingone from Mary Adeline, made him insert a languid
fork into the heap.
But the most remarkable object within the range of
Mr.
They foundthe old peoples road to good
grazing.
Noother eyes he knew could express such elemental
rage as Treeshys.
The stream ran into the desert, and the forests
grew. Their white, rollingtents smoked across the dusty desert and made for the Pass
of theNorth.
Raycies windows, and thankedhis stars that they
were still tightly shuttered. Why, swan to man, if hit haint a heathen
idol!
She stood at the door of the ruined chapellooking
at it in the light.
I never setfoot in the places myself; but a glance
at the outside was enough.
What was left of him was completelymaterial. At the
top of the treethe madonna bloomed.
The rhythm of childish feet had only jarred him.
Raycies own heart, but in which Lewis was not tohave even a consulting
voice.
EPILOGUEThe great mountain continued to look upon
the plain.
Ah, here I know, my dearboy, I touch a responsive
chord! Why, swan to man, if hit haint a heathen idol!
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