If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify. Anna looked at her curiously, and with sinking heart. But with returning breath came returning vociferations; and the carpenter, with a faint hope of lessening the clamour by change of scene, took up his lantern, opened the door, and walked out. “Dear old daddy!” she said, and was amazed to find herself shedding tears. And put ‘em in little books for remembrance.
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