Slowly and lingeringly they moved away.
The roses could not be sweeter to any one.





Queechy.




Chapter I.



A single cloud on a sunny day
When all the rest of heaven is clear,
A frown upon the atmosphere,
That hath no business to appear,
When skies are blue and earth is gay.

Byron.


Come, dear grandpa!--the old mare and the wagon are at the
gate--all ready."

"Well, dear!"--responded a cheerful hearty voice, "they must wait a bit; I
haven't got my hat yet."