Withered Leaves from Memory's Garland by Abigail Stanley Hanna
page 55 of 371 (14%)
page 55 of 371 (14%)
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The surgeon took him from the drop,
To meet a more disgraceful doom. And such is life, whose ebb and flow Heaves the deep sea of human mind; True happiness they only know, Whose every wish's to Heaven resigned. The History of a Household. Early in the winter of 18--, there was a heavy rain, accompanied by high winds, which swelled the waters of the Sandy river to an amazing height, and every moving thing upon its surface was borne away with the rapidity of lightning. Standing upon its margin was Frank Somers, his eyes fixed with intense interest upon a frail raft that was plunging and heaving among the boiling waves. Upon it stood a man about the middle of life, with an athletic form and a determined expression of countenance, his eyes fixed fiercely upon a brace of logs that had been left reposing on the quiet bosom of the waters, waiting their turn to be sawed into boards. It was a valuable lot, and would bring considerable of an income to the owner, therefore he pursued it over the rapid current, hoping to arrest its course ere it reached the falls. Beside him stood a young boy on the raft, his cheeks blanched to marble whiteness, and his dark eyes fixed imploringly upon his father as they danced along over the furious wave, every bound conveying them so much nearer the falls that |
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