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Beside that sand gulch, she had tried to reproduce a bit of her own village in the Rhine Valley. She hid herself behind the growth she had fostered, lived under the shade of what she had planted and watered and pruned. In the blaze of the open plain she was stupid and blind like an owl. Shade, shade; that was what she was always planning and making.

Just as you once lived purposely and intentionally for yourself, now you do things purposely and intentionally for Jesus, because it is he that lives, and not you yourself. You remember how once you would plan for yourself.

Some day, Tony, I am going over to your country, and I am going to the little town where you lived. Do you remember all about it?” “Jim,” she said earnestly, “if I was put down there in the middle of the night, I could find my way all over that little town; and along the river to the next town, where my grandmother lived.

'Where have you come from? she said. 'Over the marshes. 'From what direction? said the farmer's wife. 'South, said the little Wild Thing with the new soul. 'But none can come over the marshes from the south, said the farmer's wife. 'No, they can't do that, said the farmer. 'I lived in the marshes. 'Who are you? asked the farmer's wife.

Yet he had given up his mistress, Art; he no longer lived for her; he would live for his wife and child, if he could only find them, if, if, if! He felt that there was indeed nothing to live for! Then why live, he asked himself? Better be dead; far better be dead! Who would care if he were no more?

Nor could he attribute their absence to any common local detention or difficulty of travel. They lived widely apart and in different directions. Neither were they generally known as "chums," or comrades, who might have entered into an unhallowed combination to "play hookey."

To have seen proud cities rear their heads from a wilderness from a cluster of log huts in a primeval forest whose everlasting stillness was alone broken by the yells of savage men, the long howl of the wolf and the scream of the panther is something to have lived for.

Blyth's house, that cribbage should be played, and that Madonna should take a share in it. This was done, on her part, principally in affectionate remembrance of the old times when she lived under the care of the clown's wife, and when she had learnt cribbage from Mr. Peckover to amuse her, while the frightful accident which had befallen her in the circus was still a recent event.

"You acted as you thought best," said Gaston sadly; "but it seems to me that, if I had been in your place, I should have kept the old homestead. Our ancestors lived there for many generations, and our father lies buried there." Then seeing Louis appear sad and distressed, he quickly added: "However, it is just as well; it is in the heart that memory dwells, and not in a pile of old stones.

Year after year the tinker exhibited the wonder until he grew immensely rich. Then he retired from the show business, and out of gratitude took the old kettle to the temple again and deposited it there as a precious relic. Very long, long ago, there lived an old man and woman in a village near a mountain, from which flowed a stream of purest water.