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Crowley, Mary Catherine

"Apples, Ripe and Rosy, Sir"

Father
Friday recited some prayers, to which I made the responses. Then he
withdrew a little, and read his Office as serenely as if he were in the
garden of the convent; while I, weary and disheartened, threw myself on
the ground and tried again to determine by the sun where we were. I
must have fallen asleep; for the next thing I knew the sun was
considerably lower, and Father Friday was waiting to make another start.
"How strange," he kept repeating as we proceeded, "that we should be so
entirely astray in a wood only a few miles in extent, and within such a
short distance from home! It is most extraordinary. I cannot
understand it."
It was, indeed, singular; but I was too dispirited to speculate upon
the subject. Soldier though I prided myself upon being, and strong,
active fellow that I certainly was, Father Friday was as far ahead of
me in his endurance of the hardship of our position as in everything
else.
Dusk came, and we began to fear that we should have to remain where we
were all night. Again I climbed a tree, hoping to catch a glimpse of a
light somewhere.


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