LE LONG DU SENTIEE 



all of his sixty-five years, back bent, 

 hands deformed with the ceaseless la- 

 bour that had been his portion from 

 childhood ; weather-beaten with facing 

 suns, and frosts, and all the winds of 

 Heaven ; lined and wrinkled with anxie- 

 ties which, at the beginning of old age, 

 left this money an unattainable sum. . . 



"It is not much, P , between 



old friends." 



For a moment it was as though he did 

 not hear, or could not understand ; then 

 he broke down as does a little child, 

 utterly, helplessly. Sobs shook him, 

 tears forced their way through the 

 crooked fingers, speech was not to be 

 attempted; he rushed from the room, 

 from the house. No word of thanks 

 passed then or later, nor was it needed. 



Yes, chill Prudence, and austere Tem- 

 perance, are inadequately cultivated by 

 these countrymen of ours. 



They have better reason than most of 

 us for seeking to forget the hardships 



16 237 



