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"'Cause I'm going away pretty soon, Miss Jane say. You know my mamma's dead." The little face was very grave now. "And my Uncle Jim out in Kansas wants me. I'm going to him." Even in her innocence, Doctor Carey noted the very definite tone and clear trend of the young mind. "Miss Jane loves me and I love her," Leigh explained further. "Don't you love Miss Jane, Horace?"

"I can arrange it," she said presently. "Tell me about it." And Horace Carey told her all of Leigh's plans. "It is a wonderful undertaking for a girl, but she has faith in herself, and if she fails, the land is abundantly worth the mortgage with nothing but weeds on it," the doctor explained. "She is a charming girl.

Then Mother Carey said, "These are the goblets of life, one is balm and will give you joy, the other is gall and will give you suffering. You may drink little or much, but you must drink equally of both. Now what would ye?" The little ugly creatures whispered together, then one said: "Mother Carey, if we drink, will it give us beauty?"

Henry Lord was of medium height; spare, clean-shaven, thin-lipped, with scanty auburn hair, high forehead, and small keen eyes, especially adapted to the microscope, though ill fitted to use in friendly conversation. "We are neighbors, Professor Lord, though we have never met," said Mrs. Carey, rising and giving him her hand.

An instant he hung on the rail, breathing deeply. Then with a jerk he relaxed his grip and leaped blindly into the howling darkness, hurling himself and the woman with him far into the raging sea. It was suffocatingly hot. Carey raised his arms with a desperate movement. He felt as if he were swimming in hot vapour. And he had been swimming for a long time, too. He was deadly tired.

"This would be the very place for such a song," said Captain Carey. "Come, Martin, let us have it." "No; I can sing nothing to-day," I answered, harshly. The very sight of her made me feel miserable beyond words; the sound of her voice maddened me.

Carey said he thought this a very dangerous undertaking on account of the friends who might be imperiled, but felt that there was no doubt but it could be accomplished. "Walters spoke up at this point, saying this proposition was not feasible at all, and a number assented to his remark. "Mr.

"Are you wanting anything?" "Nothing nothing, except that fellow Carey. Why in thunder doesn't he come? No; there's nothing you can do. I'm pegging out. My time is up. You can't put back the clock. I wouldn't let you if you could not as things are. I have been a blackguard in my time, but I'll take my last hedge straight. I'll die like a man." Again he turned his head, seeming to listen.

"I haven't seen him since Christmas day. A young Filipino and I got into a scrap with a drunken Chinaman who was beating a boy, and the Chink slashed us both. Carey stitched us up, but the other fellow keeps a scar across his face, all right." "I know that Filipino," Thaine said. "He seems like a fine young man. The scar was a marker for him. I'd know him by it anywhere."

He wrote as if he longed to be with those whose toils and sorrows were at an end, but he still had much more to do. In 1826, he visited England, partly for the sake of pleading with the Society at home, first begun on so small a scale by Carey, but which now numbered many members and disposed of large sums. The committee, however, were often hard to deal with.