Withered Leaves from Memory's Garland by Abigail Stanley Hanna
page 71 of 371 (19%)
page 71 of 371 (19%)
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subdue the feeling, and when their lips united in the parting kiss,
a pang shot though her heart, and "it is his last kiss," passed involuntarily through her thoughts. She turned hastily away to wipe the tears from her eyes, and bury her grief in her own bosom. Edward, after a prosperous journey, arrived safely at his place of destination, was settled in a lucrative business, even exceeding his most sanguine expectations, and was constant in his promise of writing to Annie. When winter returned with his winds, the aged grandfather was stricken down by death. He fell like a sturdy oak before the stroke of the destroyer, for he too had buffetted many a winter's storm, having lived beyond the age of man. They bore him to his grave, when the winds of winter blew fiercely round, and the drifting snow almost obstructed their passage to the grave yard. He was deposited in the place alotted him, and left to his repose, with the bleak winds of winter pelting fiercely upon his grave. He heeded them not--that weary sleeper, tired of looking upon the world, with all its changes. Capt. Somers settled in that country before the woodman's axe had felled the forest trees; and when they must pursue their way to Gardiner by spotted trees, and frequently did herds of Indians wrapped in their blankets, call at their door and exchange the moose meat which they had dried, for beef, bread and other eatables. These were times that tried men's souls, for during the war they were frequently alarmed by hearing that unfriendly Indians were coming upon |
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