. The novels, romances, and memoirs of Alphonse Daudet . bor Labassindre was singing one Indret. 317 of those old sentimental ditties so much affectedby working men, Towards the shores of Fran-ance,Lightly row And all caught up the chorus, with a drawlingaccent — Ro-o-ow, ro-o-owSinging, row,Lightly row,Zephyrs gently blow. Jack felt that he was in a new world, and onein which success would never be his. He wasappalled, feeling between himself and these peoplea gulf that could not be bridged, an impassableabyss. The thought of his mother was the onethought that sustained and reassured him. His
. The novels, romances, and memoirs of Alphonse Daudet . bor Labassindre was singing one Indret. 317 of those old sentimental ditties so much affectedby working men, Towards the shores of Fran-ance,Lightly row And all caught up the chorus, with a drawlingaccent — Ro-o-ow, ro-o-owSinging, row,Lightly row,Zephyrs gently blow. Jack felt that he was in a new world, and onein which success would never be his. He wasappalled, feeling between himself and these peoplea gulf that could not be bridged, an impassableabyss. The thought of his mother was the onethought that sustained and reassured him. His mother! He thought of her as he gazed towards the skyfilled with stars, those millions of golden pointspricked upon the blue square of sky seen fromhis window. He had stood there a long while,the little house was wrapped in slumber and silence,when suddenly he heard a long tremulous sigh,shaken by sobs, that told him Madame Roudic toowas weeping at her window, that his was not theonly sorrow that kept watch through that beautifulnight. END OF VOL. L.
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