THE WOMAN WHO KNEW "Don't you sometimes grow weary for an abiding place ?" Laura pulled off her gauntlets and laid her hot hands on the cool lichen-grown stones of the field-wall.

The bridle-rein hung over her arm.
Fitzgerald had drawn his through a stirrup.

"Think of wandering here and there, with never a place to come back to." "I have thought of it often in the few days I have been here.

I have a home in New York, but I could not possibly afford to live in it; so I rent it; and when I want to go fishing there's enough under hand to pay the expenses.

My poor old dad! He was always indorsing notes for his friends, or carrying stock for them; and nothing ever came back.