Мхи старої садиби

           Nonepayagreaterregardtoarbitrarydivisionsoftimethanthosewhoareexcludedfromsociety;andDorcasmentioned,asiftheinformationwereofimportance,thatitwasnowthetwelfthofMay.Herhusbandstarted.

           "ThetwelfthofMay!Ishouldrememberitwell,"mutteredhe,whilemanythoughtsoccasionedamomentaryconfusioninhismind."WhereamI?WhitheramIwandering?WheredidIleavehim?"

           Dorcas,toowellaccustomedtoherhusband’swaywardmoodstonoteanypeculiarityofdemeanor,nowlaidasidethealmanacandaddressedhiminthatmournfultonewhichthetenderheartedappropriatetogriefslongcoldanddead.

           "Itwasnearthistimeofthemonth,eighteenyearsago,thatmypoorfatherleftthisworldforabetter.Hehadakindarmtoholdhisheadandakindvoicetocheerhim,Reuben,inhislastmoments;andthethoughtofthefaithfulcareyoutookofhimhascomfortedmemanyatimesince.Oh,deathwouldhavebeenawfultoasolitarymaninawildplacelikethis!"

           "PrayHeaven,Dorcas,"saidReuben,inabrokenvoice,—"prayHeaventhatneitherofusthreediessolitaryandliesunburiedinthishowlingwilderness!"Andhehastenedaway,leavinghertowatchthefirebeneaththegloomypines.

           ReubenBourne’srapidpacegraduallyslackenedasthepang,unintentionallyinflictedbythewordsofDorcas,becamelessacute.Manystrangereflections,however,throngeduponhim;and,strayingonwardratherlikeasleepwalkerthanahunter,itwasattributabletonocareofhisownthathisdeviouscoursekepthiminthevicinityoftheencampment.