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Crowley, Mary Catherine

"Apples, Ripe and Rosy, Sir"

I
thought you would come to-day; for since early morning I have been
imploring the Blessed Virgin to obtain this favor for me."
She sank back on the pillow exhausted, but after a few minutes revived
once more.
It was apparent, however, that there was no time to be lost. I
beckoned Josh and his wife out into the kitchen, and left Father Friday
to hear her confession. Soon he recalled us. I have but to close my
eyes to see it all as if it were yesterday: the altar hastily arranged
upon a small deal table; the flickering tallow dips, the only light to
do homage to the divine Guest; the angelic expression of the dying girl
as she received the Holy Viaticum.
After that we all withdrew, Father Friday and I going out by the fire
again. He resumed his breviary, and I remained silently musing upon
all that had passed within the last hour. After a few moments he
paused, with, his finger and thumb between the leaves of the book, and
looked toward me. I hastened to avail of the opportunity to speak my
thoughts.
"This, then, is the meaning of our strange wandering in the woods all
day, Father," said I.


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