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Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc — Volume 1 by Mark Twain
page 60 of 279 (21%)
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It was so simple and out of her heart that it touched us and we did not
laugh, but fell to thinking. We did not laugh; but there came a day when
we remembered that speech with a mournful pride, and were glad that we
had not laughed, perceiving then how honest her words had been, and
seeing how faithfully she made them good when the time came, asking just
that boon of the King and refusing to take even any least thing for
herself.



Chapter 6 Joan and Archangel Michael

ALL THROUGH her childhood and up to the middle of her fourteenth year,
Joan had been the most light-hearted creature and the merriest in the
village, with a hop-skip-and-jump gait and a happy and catching laugh;
and this disposition, supplemented by her warm and sympathetic nature and
frank and winning ways, had made her everybody's pet. She had been a hot
patriot all this time, and sometimes the war news had sobered her spirits
and wrung her heart and made her acquainted with tears, but always when
these interruptions had run their course her spirits rose and she was her
old self again.

But now for a whole year and a half she had been mainly grave; not
melancholy, but given to thought, abstraction, dreams. She was carrying
France upon her heart, and she found the burden not light. I knew that
this was her trouble, but others attributed her abstraction to religious
ecstasy, for she did not share her thinkings with the village at large,
yet gave me glimpses of them, and so I knew, better than the rest, what
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