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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"The Seaboard Parish Volume 1"

It was a lonely place: I fell on my knees, and worshipped the
God that made the glory and my soul."
While I spoke Connie's tears had been flowing quietly.
"And mamma and I were making fun while you were seeing such things as
those!" she said pitifully.
"You didn't hurt them one bit, my darling--neither mamma nor you. If I had
been the least cross about it, as I should have been when I was as young
as at the time of which I was thinking, that would have ruined the vision
entirely. But your merriment only made me enjoy it more. And, my Connie, I
hope you will see the Atlantic before long; and if one vision should come
as brilliant as that, we shall be fortunate indeed, if we went all the way
to the west to see that only."
"O papa! I dare hardly think of it--it is too delightful. But do you think
we shall really go?"
"I do. Here comes your mamma--I am going to say to Shepherd, my dear, that
I will take his parish in hand, and if I cannot, after all, go myself, will
find some one, so that he need be in no anxiety from the uncertainty which
must hang over our movements even till the experiment itself is made."
"Very well, husband.


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