When I think what we can be if we must, I can't believe the least of us shall finally perish." "Oh, I reckon the Almighty won't scoop any of us," said Fulkerson, with a piety of his own.
"That poor boy's father!" sighed Mrs.March.

"I can't get his face out of my sight.

He looked so much worse than death." "Oh, death doesn't look bad," said March.

"It's life that looks so in its presence.

Death is peace and pardon.