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Page 138 (1/2)

"Bless the boy," said she, "I mind jest how he looked when I cut this har

from his head, the very day his mother was buried Poor Marster Williaone to 'tarnity 'fore this time"

As she said this tears, which were none the less sincere because she who

wept theht but

now faded lock of hair, which the faithful creature had for more than

forty years preserved as asince looked

upon as dead, although she had never ceased to pray for him, and always

ended her accustomed prayer, "Now I lay me--" with the petition that "God

would take keer of Marster Williaain" Who shall

say that the prayer was not answered?

Going back to her seat, she took up her knitting and was soon living over

the past, when she was young and dith "the old folks at home"

Suddenly there cah above

all the rest was a voice, whose clear, ringing tones made Katy start up so

quickly that, as she afterward described it, "a sudden misery cotched her