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Cooke, John Esten, 1830-1886

"Or, Humors on the Border; A story of the Old Virginia Frontier"

She should not stay out, she said,
as she had been sick; and so they took their way, as says our friend,
"in pleasant talk," across the emerald meadow to the cheerful home.
The low of cattle went with them, and all the birds of night waked up
and sang.
The beautiful moon--the very moon of all the harvest-homes since the
earth was made--shone on them as they went; and by the time they had
reached the portico of the old comfortable mansion, evening had cast
such shadows, far and near, that only the outlines of the forms were
seen, as they passed in through the deep shadow.
They did not see that Verty's hand held little Redbud's; and that he
looked her with a tenderness which could not be mistaken. But Redbud
saw it, and a flush passed over her delicate cheek, on which the
maiden moon looked down and smiled.
So the day ended.


CHAPTER XLIX.
BACK TO WINCHESTER, WHERE EDITORIAL INIQUITY IS DISCOURSED OF.

Busy with the various fortunes of our other personages, we have
not been able of late to give much attention to the noble poet,
Roundjacket, with whose ambition and great thoughts, this history has
heretofore somewhat concerned itself.


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