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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"The Seaboard Parish Volume 1"


"What a sharp sight you must have, child!"
"I see them all as clear as if they were enamelled on that table before
me."
I was not so anxious to get rid of the daisies as some people are. Neither
did I keep the grass quite so close shaved.
"But," she went on, "I could not count them, for it gave me the fidgets in
my feet."
"You don't say so!" I exclaimed.
She looked at me with some surprise, but concluding that I was only making
a little of my mild fun at her expense, she laughed.
"Yes. Isn't it a wonderful fact?" she said.
"It is a fact, my dear, that I feel ready to go on my knees and thank God
for. I may be wrong, but I take it as a sign that you are beginning to
recover a little. But we mustn't make too much of it, lest I should be
mistaken," I added, checking myself, for I feared exciting her too much.
But she lay very still; only the tears rose slowly and lay shimmering in
her eyes. After about five minutes, during which we were both silent,--
"O papa!" she said, "to think of ever walking out with you again, and
feeling the wind on my face! I can hardly believe it possible."
"It is so mild, I think you might have half that pleasure at once," I
answered.


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