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Gray-haired I return, sadly scotched in many a conflict with the world, yet ever thy boy, thy home mine. Ah me! Heaven is nearer to us than we often dream on earth. How shall I tell you of the old town by the North Sea that was the home of the Danish kings in the days when kings led their armies afield and held their crowns by the strength of their grip?
Twenty-seven miles away, when we whirled through the gates of Ghent later in the evening, we said "Au revoir" to Verhagen and the mendicant priest, and went to our rooms. At midnight came a rap at the door; my gray-haired alderman broke into the room, bursting with the latest news, his eyes aflame with excitement. "Revanche!" he exclaimed dramatically; "our enemies have paid for it in blood!"
The woman, shrivelled, gray-haired, sinking back in her chair, sat silent. The puling thing upon her knees whimpered. The dying woman upon the rude bed of rope and rush moaned. And that was all. To the budding mind of young Jack Schuyler, life was a very pleasant affair. It began each morning at six thirty; and from then on until eight at night, there was something to fill each moment.
But the motto of Tito's life was, get all the pleasure you can, avoid all the pain. Soon the old scholar became a clog and a burden. One night, conscience battled for its life with Tito. At midnight the youth arose, unbuckled from his father's waist the leather belt stuffed with jewels, and fled into the night, leaving the gray-haired man among strangers whose language he could not speak.
Hereafter you shall only come to this department at certain hours. At all other times the doors shall be guarded." A gray-haired man in undress uniform presently appeared, and as he handed Olympia the large official envelope he said, respectfully: "You never heard of me, Miss Sprague? Many years ago the Senator, your father, did a kind turn for my brother an employé in the Treasury.
They had gushed forth when she saw the quivering chin and trembling lips of her gray-haired father, as he bade his only child good-bye, and now that he was gone, she wept on, never heeding her young friend, who strove in vain to call her attention to the fast receding hills of Kentucky, which she Mary was leaving forever.
It had come to him at last, sitting there with Mr. Trevor's letter in his hand, and Dora at his feet. Dora who was so dear to him, and his first impulse was to hasten to her side, and sue for the love she could not give the gray-haired Texan. "And she will not tell me nay," he said. "It will come to her as it has to me the love we have unconsciously borne each other."
The gray-haired woman shook her head. "No, dearie, it's a little boy or he was a little boy forty years ago." "Forty years so long! How could you have lived forty years without him?" Again the little woman shook her head. "One has to sometimes, dearie; but this little boy was n't mine. He was none of my kith nor kin." "But you care you understand. I 've seen you here so often before." "Yes.
It was quite evident that Euphemia had been looking forward for some time to the novel experience of taking her coffee in bed. But the gray-haired old gentleman who acted as our chambermaid never hinted that he supposed we wanted anything of the kind. Nothing, however, excited Euphemia's indignation so much as the practice of giving a pourboire to cabmen and others.
Then the time came when none were left save the "Confederate Guards," old gray-haired men, judges, bankers, merchants, gentlemen of every degree, too old for active service at the front, but too young not to burn for the grasp of a gun or sword while they knew that their sons and grandsons were fighting on the bloodstained soil of Virginia and Tennessee.
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