I loved; and so I went.


THE BOY.

I had an uncle
That was in love. But he--he drowned himself.
Why do men do so?


JERRY.

Drowned himself? And when?


THE BOY.

I don't know. Long ago; it's like a dream
To me. I was not born then. Deacon Snow
Has told me something of it. Mother cries
Even now, beside his grave. Poor uncle!


JERRY.

His grave!
(_That_ could not be, then.) Yet if it should be,
How can I think Grace cried--