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O'er the fine tints of parting day; “How did the harvesting of Aunt Grenertsen’s apples go this afternoon?” asked Mother. “Why, John, my boy! Did you?”.

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“There’ll be plenty of work for ’em. It happens we’re a little short on rodmen just now. But about sleeping quarters—I’ve got your house ready for you, Whitney, and as soon as your dunnage comes along you can move right in,” he said. TO THE MARQUIS DE MAZZINI “When you finish the shoring, close the gate immediately.” Julia accustomed herself to walk in the fine evenings under the shade of the high trees that environed the abbey. The dewy coolness of the air refreshed her. The innumerable roseate tints which the parting sun-beams reflected on the rocks above, and the fine vermil glow diffused over the romantic scene beneath, softly fading from the eye, as the nightshades fell, excited sensations of a sweet and tranquil nature, and soothed her into a temporary forgetfulness of her sorrows..