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Once upon a time there was a woodcutter and his wife who had seven children, all boys. The eldest was but ten years old, and the youngest only seven. People wondered that the woodcutter had so many children so near in age, but the fact was, that several of them were twins. He and his wife were very poor, and their seven children were a great burden to them, as not one of them was yet able to earn his livelihood. What troubled them still more was, that the youngest was very delicate, and seldom spoke, which they considered a proof of stupidity rather than of good sense. He was very diminutive, and, when first born, scarcely bigger than one's thumb, and so they called him Little Thumbling. “Come on, Jerry,” Bob said; “let’s be getting back.” 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..

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“Oh, a cabby driver and his wife. The old woman told me once she wished she’d left me on the doorstep where she found me. But I stuck it out with them, until I was about fourteen, I reckon, and then something happened. One day a man spoke to me on State Street and asked if I didn’t want to go out in the country. He made a wonderful picture of the road on which there were no houses, the haystacks under which one could sleep. I’d never been outside of the city and it sounded great to me. He said I could go along with him and he would show me all these wonders. It was springtime and the licking I’d had the night before still smarted, so I went.” On the return of the good woman, who had accompanied madame to the village on the preceding night, Julia went to the cottage at Farrini. Her grateful heart would not suffer her to depart without taking leave of her faithful friends, thanking them for their kindness, and informing them of her future prospects. They had prevailed upon her to spend the few intervening hours at this cot, whence she had just risen to meet madame. They showed him how to blow it up and then let all the air out and rolled it up into a small parcel. He was as delighted as a child with a new toy and thanked them for it. At last they started out on their hike, carrying with them only enough food for lunch, the transit and as much water as possible. When they were about fifty feet from camp, the old man called out after them. “Oh, so that—so that—I tell you what, Mother, it is dreadful to be blind.”.