Scribner's magazine . ause shes his mother ;never another woman Avill care for himso. Im ashamed of your ignorance andlack of feeling. Its his mother, hismother. Man alive, wheres your own V Here! said I, swallowing some-thing at the same minute, and holdingup my rifle. Here ! Im a son of a gun,and the armys a whole family to me. Then Cork began to laugh, and said,Go, turn in. And going off throughthe darkness, I felt suddenly was empty, and it was emptinessthrough which I moved. What was itId missed? Something I could neverdescribe, never name, because Id neverhad it ; but Wyliff h


Scribner's magazine . ause shes his mother ;never another woman Avill care for himso. Im ashamed of your ignorance andlack of feeling. Its his mother, hismother. Man alive, wheres your own V Here! said I, swallowing some-thing at the same minute, and holdingup my rifle. Here ! Im a son of a gun,and the armys a whole family to me. Then Cork began to laugh, and said,Go, turn in. And going off throughthe darkness, I felt suddenly was empty, and it was emptinessthrough which I moved. What was itId missed? Something I could neverdescribe, never name, because Id neverhad it ; but Wyliff had it—Wyliff, whocould take that hour of all others to tum-ble in a row ! . .Wyliif, who cared nomore for it than that! What good didit do him? And what good wouldnt ithave done me ? Oh, I was jealous ofWyliff—the man I had spent my leisurein hating. If I could only have killedhim and taken it from him! . . But I was dead tired when I got tomy blankets, and I rolled myself in andslept like a log till THE CONQUERORBy Bessie Chandler To bis dead heart alone I will surrender ; He, whom death conquered, now has conquered held my fortress like a brave defender— Now it stands open for the world to see. There was a castle once, in ancient stoiy,Besieged bv one so noble in his fame. That when he died the people thought it gloryTo yield him what no Hying knight could claim. So, as he lay, in dented armor sleeping— A hero, after wearing strife at ease—They gathered near, and gave into his keeping. Safe in his mailed hand, their castle keys. So do I yield to-day to you, my loyer— Who died before my hard hearts frowning wall, And never knew its harshness did but coverOnly a longing to surrender all. Here are the kevs, the last reserve is broken—What does it matter now since all is past ? Let all men hear, and know that bv this tokenI loved you only, loved you first and last. •? «? ft JOHN MARCH, SOUTHERNER By George JV. Cable LXX THE ENEMY IN THE REAR NEW w


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1887