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hermit enjoying a quiet smoke beneath the 
favorite old oak near the house. 
As I advanced toward my beloved friend, I 
noticed that he seemed absorbed in deep reverie. 
Never before had I observed such an expression 
of mental anguish on his handsome face. The 
sight instantly touched my sympathy, for I at 
once surmised the nature of his grievously sad 
reflections. As I rapidly and cheerily advanced 
to him he recognized me and at once arose 
from his place to welcome me. 
“ Ah, my dear Fritz, you can never conceive 
my real delight on seeing you at this time. 
For days I have been under a crushing weight 
of almost maddening anguish, born of a slowly 
but surely dying hope of ever again seeing my 
poor, sadly bereaved Anita. Six long weary 
years have slipped into eternity; during this 
dark period of my life I have ceaselessly prayed 
and hoped that I might gain some clew to her 
whereabouts, either alive or dead. For several 
days I have vainly attempted to cast aside a 
crushing, heart-rending premonition that never 
again shall I either see or hear of my precious 
child, and my despairing soul has been slip- 
ping, slipping into the dark abyss of utter 
hopelessness. But, there, my Fritz, your timely 
return to me revives my depressed spirits and 
I will try to be even more than ever patient 
and hopeful. Yet, candidly, my dear Fritz, 
this gnawing, persistent doubt is slowly, surely 
eating my life away.” 
