forth under the peaceful benediction of summer skies.

And she compared it to two white lambs gambolin' on the velvety
hill-side. To two strains of music meltin' into one dulcet harmony,
perfect, divine harmony, with no discordant notes.

Josiah hunched me, he wanted me to cry there, at that place, but I
wouldn't. He did, he cried like an infant babe, and I looked close and
searchin' to see if my handkerchief covered up all his vest.

He didn't seem to take no notice of his clothes at all, he wuz a-weepin'
so--why, the whole schoolhouse wept, wept like a babe.

But I didn't. I see it wuz a eloquent and powerful effort. I see it was
beautiful as anything could be, but it lacked that one thing I have
mentioned prior and before this time. It lacked megumness.

I knew they wuz all impressive and beautful illustrations, I couldn't
deny it, and I didn't want to deny it. But I knew in my heart that the
lonely goose that she had talked so eloquent about, I knew that though
its path might be tegus the most of the time, yet occasionally it
stepped upon velvet grass and blossomin' daisies. And though the happy
wedded swans floated considerable easy a good deal of the time, yet
occasionally they had their wings rumpled by storms, thunder storms,
sudden squalls, and et cetery, et cetery.

And I knew the divine harmony of wedded love, though it is the sweetest
that earth affords, I knew that, and my Josiah knew it--the very
sweetest and happiest strains that earthly lips can sing.