StNicholas [serial] . He tried to strike them, but they were wetand of no use. At last, as he became colder and colder, he took hishandkerchief and placed it on the leaves and sticks in a waythat they would catch fire, and then he put some gunpowderon the handkerchief, and then he shot it until it caught fireand made a good blaze. After he had warmed his hands (which were numb; hecould hardly use them), he looked around for something toeat. At last, after a long search, he found a small lump ofbread. It was so hard he could hardly break it, but hewas so hungry he was glad to have anything. He
StNicholas [serial] . He tried to strike them, but they were wetand of no use. At last, as he became colder and colder, he took hishandkerchief and placed it on the leaves and sticks in a waythat they would catch fire, and then he put some gunpowderon the handkerchief, and then he shot it until it caught fireand made a good blaze. After he had warmed his hands (which were numb; hecould hardly use them), he looked around for something toeat. At last, after a long search, he found a small lump ofbread. It was so hard he could hardly break it, but hewas so hungry he was glad to have anything. He was inthe hut a good while, before the party found him. LIFE BY E. VINCENT MILLAY (AGE 15) (Ho)ior Member) Life is an imitation, — we are born,We live, we die, — and do no more, no lessThan all have done before. To us is given the living only ; that at least is ours,To do with as we please; and let it beOur constant care to make that living suchThat, when we die, it will be deemed more worthyOf further
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Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
