"It does seem too hard that they can't be let to rest in peace, pore little things.

I wanted you and me to lay there, too, when our time come, Jacob.

Just there, back o' the beehives and under them shoomakes--my, I can see the very place! And I don't believe I'll ever feel at home anywheres else.

I woon't know where I am when the trumpet sounds.

I have to think before I can tell where the east is in New York; and what if I should git faced the wrong way when I raise?
Jacob, I wonder you could sell it!" Her head shook, and the firelight shone on her tears as she searched the folds of her dress for her pocket.
A peal of laughter came from the drawing-room, and then the sound of chords struck on the piano.
"Hush! Don't you cry, 'Liz'beth!" said Dryfoos.