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Fenneben had only one thought as he hurried away in the darkness, to save the woman and child. His companion said little, directing the course toward the bend in the river before the gateway of Pigeon Place. As they pushed on with all speed through rain and mud, Fenneben was hardly conscious that Dennie Saxon's words about the lonely gray-haired hermit woman were recurring curiously to his mind.
Alice knew him at once, and thought eighteen years had made little change, as, at Nuttie's call to her, she looked from the window and saw the handsome, dignified, gray-haired, close-shaven rosy face, and the clerical garb unchanged in favour of long coats and high waistcoats. The mother and daughter were exploring the house together. Mr.
The one, erect, royal, with her great steadfast eyes alight; the other, bent and worn, gray-haired and sallow and dumb, crawling feebly through the golden afternoon sunshine, as the ghost of a glorious life might crawl back to its grave. Mother threw open the door, and stood there like a queen. "Children, your aunt has come home. She is too tired to talk just now.
I heard gray-haired women, mothers and wives, gentle, kindly, I know, in their home circles, openly hoping that the I. W. W.'s would come back and 'clean up." Corroborating this is the report of President E. P. Marsh to the State Federation of Labor. "A dangerous situation existed in Everett after the battle of November 5. Public feeling ran high and anything might have happened.
Just five women, who were doing with their might what their hands found to do, Just five living hearts that dared to give their lives to save them. Just gray-haired women, mothers, and grandmothers, who, for love they could not contain, rushed in to save their loved ones, from ruin. There never was such a sight. Angels wept and devils yelled with diabolical glee.
The gray-haired woman with the large, honest eyes in her kind face attracted them powerfully; and those whom life held asunder, whom it tore from one another, now blended into a whole, warmed by the fire of the fearless words which, perhaps, they had long been seeking and thirsting for in their hearts their hearts insulted and revolted by the injustice of their severe life.
When the Kentucky Senator "with Treason in his heart, if not on his lips," resumed his seat, the gray-haired soldier-Senator at once rose to reply. "He began," said Charles Sumner, in alluding to the incident "simply and calmly; but as he proceeded, his fervid soul broke forth in words of surpassing power.
I wheeled suddenly, with the intention of apologizing, but my mare misunderstood me, and, again dashing forward, once more vaulted over the head of the officer, this time unfortunately uncovering him by a vicious kick of her hoof. "Seize him!" roared the entire army. I was seized. As the soldiers led me away, I asked the name of the gray-haired officer. "That why, that's the DUKE OF WELLINGTON!"
He has given his heart to that gray-haired, gray-eyed woman, and if she lives, he will marry her; and then, if there were twenty oceans, I should want them all to roll between us. I tell you now, I can not and will not stay here to see the day that makes that pale gray phantom his wife.
I've read pretty ones in these here sentimental magazines that get close to the great heart of the people once a month; stories about how the town tough boy, that robs his gray-haired mother of her wash money to play pool with, goes into war's purifying flames and comes out a man, having rescued Marshal Fotch from a shell hole under fire and got the thanks of the French nation and his home-town paper.
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