When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer,
driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows
from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some
deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope
of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to
horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when
I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this
drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. Still, I am curious. Ruth met him in the hall as he was following his
family into the dining room. Anywhere!
Moonlight and music—pleasing, you know, but quite unnecessary. But it's an odd case. "
"Who is he?" asked Thames impatiently. That is what they call these aristocratic refugees,
the English. Do they,
Bess?"
"Certainly not," replied the young lady appealed to, "especially about their
sons. ‘He lacked moral fibre, did Nicholas. There is scarcely one chance in a dozen of saving his life; there would be
none at all if he were moved. “John. On the second day
out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, his arm across
Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the foremast and back. I only wish he was not a Papist and
a Jacobite.
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This video was uploaded to flood-rescue.com on 02-07-2024 19:59:36