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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 14, No. 82, August, 1864"


Meanwhile the disgusted Stephen, walking alone under the umbrella,
drove Fessenden's before him through the storm. They turned a corner.
Stephen stopped.
"There, that's the house, where the lights are. Good bye! Luck to you!"
And Stephen and umbrella disappeared in the darkness.
Fessenden's kept on, wearily, wearily! He reached the house. And lo! it
was the same, at the door of which the lady had told him that he, with
his name, was not wanted. Tiger slept in his kennel, and dreamed of
barking at beggars. The Judge, snugly ensconced in his study, listened
to the report of his speech before the Timberville Benevolent
Association. His son read it aloud, in the columns of the "Timberville
Gazette." Gingerford smiled and nodded; for he thought it sounded well.
And Mrs. Gingerford was pleased and proud. And the heart of Gingerford
Junior swelled with the fervor of the eloquence, and with exultation in
his father's talents and distinction, as he read. The sleet rattled a
pleasant accompaniment against the window-shutters; and the organ-pipes
of the wind sounded a solemn symphony.


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