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Billy had heard that when one comes face to face with death the misdeeds of the life about to go out crowd into one brief second of darting reality before one. He had never quite believed it but he believed it now. If only he might have his misspent life to live over again! Never again would he steal Deacon Ringold's melons or swap broken-backed, broken-bladed jack-knives for good ones with the Sand-sharks, nor frighten his brother Anson with tales of witches and goblins. But that chance was not for him. It was, perhaps, natural that his last earthly thought would be of her. Her sweet face shone through the choking mists—her trembling lips were murmuring a last "good bye." Did she know what a wonderful influence her entrance into his heart had exerted toward his reform? With an effort he opened his eyes. The white, gliding thing was almost upon him now. He tried to shake off frozen terror and run. He could not move a muscle. He groaned and shut his eyes tight, waiting for the icy touch of a spirit-hand. It found him after what seemed an eternity of waiting—but it was very soft and warm instead of clammy and cold and the voice which spoke his name was not in the least sepulchral. Finally he seemed satisfied that he was alone. His harsh notes became soft guttural cooes. He nodded his big head up and down in grave satisfaction, tip-toeing from one end of the ridge-pole to the other and chuckling softly to himself. Then suddenly, he vanished from sight. "Ay, but they don't sing," said Captain Acton. "Give me the song of the thrush or the blackbird before all the finest feathers in the world.".

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It was Sunday. Anson, with eyes close-shut and suds dripping from his freckled nose, was having his weekly ear and neck cleansing, his mother's strong hands applying the coarse wash-cloth. Billy stood by, anticipating his turn, his eyes straying occasionally to the long "muzzle-loader" hanging on the deer-prong rack. Tomorrow the duck-season opened and he was wondering how he was going to contrive to sneak the old gun down and give it a thorough cleaning. Suddenly he became aware that operations in the vicinity of the wash-basin had become suspended. He glanced across to find his mother's gaze fixed sternly upon him. Anson was looking mightily pleased. "What do you want?" said Mr Lawrence, halting and viewing the fellow with a frowning face and lips which grew tight-set the instant he closed them. "She has not returned, then?" said Captain Acton. "'Tis a very old-fashioned term, madam," said General Groves, "current in my time, but I question if much understood in this.".