As they listened the remainder of the pathetic old air rose and swelled through the ridges: When in thy dreaming, moons like these shall shine again, And daylight beaming prove thy dreams are vain, Wilt thou not, relenting, for thy absent lover sigh?
In thy heart consenting to a prayer gone by! 'Nita, Juanita! Let me linger by thy side! 'Nita, Juanita! Be thou my own fair bride.
"I'm curious to see that singer," said Warner.

"I heard grand opera once in Boston, just before I started to the war, but I never heard anything that sounds finer than this.

Maybe time and place help to the extent of fifty per cent, but, at any rate, the effect is just the same." "Come on," said Dick, "and we'll soon find our singer, whoever he is." The three rode at a rapid pace until they reached the valley.

There they drew rein, as they saw near them a tall man, apparently about forty years of age, mending a fence, helped by a boy of heavy build and powerful arms.

The man glanced up, saw the blue uniforms worn by the three horsemen, and went peacefully on with his fence-mending.