Hatcher identified himself and gave a quick, concise report:
When a copter came again a week later, it was not the same flier or the same crew. The bag of food and water was dropped from a different height. The copter hovered until it saw both Jorgenson and Ganti. Then it went away.
“Oh, she was beautiful, Bud, with that silky hair that ’ud make a thoroughbred filly’s look coarse as sheep’s wool, an’ two mischief-lovin’ eyes an’ a heart that was all gold. Bud—Bud”—and there was a huskiness in the old man’s voice—“I know I can tell you because it will never come back to me ag’in, but I love that Kathleen now as I did then. A man may marry many times, but he can never love but once. Sometimes it’s his fust wife, sometimes his secon’, an’ often it’s the sweetheart he never got—but he loved only one of ’em the right way, an’ up yander, in some other star, where spirits that are alike meet in one eternal wedlock, they’ll be one there forever.
Gen. Hoo-ker was the next man to take charge of the ar-my in the East, but no moves were made till May, ’63.
There had been something chaste and exquisite about this maiden in the garden that had touched a tender chord in George Coventry"s breast. He felt an inward certainty that the girl was gentle, simple, sweet--a little saint, with her aureole of hair, and her artless singing of the old familiar hymn. The impression lured him so irresistibly that he was several times on the point of turning his horse"s head, but each excuse that presented itself struck him as too thin. He had lost his way--where to? He had been suddenly taken ill, felt faint; the very idea caused him to smile--he had never felt faint in his life and did not know how to enact the symptoms, and no one would for a moment believe him to be ill, judging by his appearance of hopelessly robust health! Perhaps a cigarette would stimulate his imagination; he put his hand in his pocket and encountered a
He has come to hearts that waited,
Irish manuscripts, though the oldest in North-western Europe, date back scarcely further than the fifth or sixth century. Beyond that period we enter a region of darkness, through which no286 literature or letters radiate their light; yet, unassisted by either, the archæologist can reconstruct the primitive world and the primitive man with greater truth and certainty than if he possessed both; for the facts of a museum are changeless and enduring, and can suffer no mutation from prejudice or ignorance, yet we must remember that it is science alone that gives value to these facts. Without its aid a museum would be only an aggregate of curious lumber. The archæologist must combine, in a synthetic and comprehensive view—must arrange in their proper sequence—must elucidate by a world-wide learning, these sibyline fragments of the past; or this writing on the wall, though it express the most irrefragable truths of history, will remain an undeciphered hieroglyphic, as useless and unprofitable to the student as the alphabet of an unknown language, which he is unable to form into intelligible words. All this Sir William Wilde accomplished for the Museum of the Academy, and in his clear and well-arranged volumes we can read the stone pages of our history by the light of all the learning and antiquarian research of the past and present age gathered to one focus.
“Mon Dieu! It is that in this country you treat the affairs gastronomic with a criminal indifference.”
Lady Caroline was right. In reply to Gertrude"s letter announcing her marriage, came a most affectionate note from Marian to her "dearest Gertrude," congratulating her most heartily; complimenting her on her choice of a husband; delighting in the prospect of their living so near to her; hoping to see much of them; regretting that her recent bereavement prevented her being present at the ceremony, or having it take place, as she should so much have wished, at Woolgreaves; and begging permission to send the enclosed, as her contribution, to aid in the setting up of the new household; and the enclosure was a cheque for three hundred pounds.
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