” “I understand,” he said, doggedly. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. For the young, immortality must seem promising, even wonderful! The grass is always greener on the other side. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. ‘Oh, we was always in there, miss,’ admitted Joan, moving closer. She wrote it down.
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