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Poor Uncle Isaac! He was sick now again—worse, in fact. He had heart disease, Mother said. Jeremias the wood-cutter also talked of a pain in his heart, but since he had begun to rub himself all over with kerosene, he had become much better. It smelled dreadfully in Jeremias’s little hut, but he was better. Johnny Blossom would certainly write to Uncle Isaac and tell him that all he had to do to cure himself of the pain was to rub himself with kerosene.,

And catch the dying gale that swells remote,,

As soon as he shook the water out of his eyes a glance showed him what had happened. Some freak of nature had left a ledge in the bottom of the river over which the water flowed, making a waterfall of perhaps six or eight feet. So even was the edge of the fall that it had not been visible to them as they came down stream through the first rough water.,

They passed into a hall of mirrors, where they supped, waited upon by the officers of the Princess. The violins and hautboys played old but charming pieces of music, notwithstanding that it was a hundred years since they had been performed by anybody, and after supper, without loss of time, the grand almoner married the royal lovers in the chapel of the castle.

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“Meantime, where’s Mr. Taylor? He’d help—”,

Mrs. Taylor had prepared what seemed to Bob an especially fine supper, considering that they were miles away from civilization. During a lull in the conversation he mentioned it. She was much pleased.,

When they reached the high altar, the bier was rested, and in a few moments the anthem ceased. 'The Abate now approached to perform the unction; the veil of the dying nun was lifted—and Julia discovered her beloved Cornelia! Her countenance was already impressed with the image of death, but her eyes brightened with a faint gleam of recollection, when they fixed upon Julia, who felt a cold thrill run through her frame, and leaned for support on madame. Julia now for the first time distinguished the unhappy lover of Cornelia, on whose features was depictured the anguish of his heart, and who hung pale and silent over the bier. The ceremony being finished, the anthem struck up; the bier was lifted, when Cornelia faintly moved her hand, and it was again rested upon the steps of the altar. In a few minutes the music ceased, when lifting her heavy eyes to her lover, with an expression of ineffable tenderness and grief, she attempted to speak, but the sounds died on her closing lips. A faint smile passed over her countenance, and was succeeded by a fine devotional glow; she folded her hands upon her bosom, and with a look of meek resignation, raising towards heaven her eyes, in which now sunk the last sparkles of expiring life—her soul departed in a short deep sigh.,

“What did Mother say?”