Lehigh University
The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 017 [02-07-1855]

              11
and her kind earnest brown eyes looked into mine, and her dark hair
rested against my cheek.    And may God bless her, and make me
worthy of her love.
  8.  Thursday.  Snow flakes falling fast and furious, a real
storm, so I �can�t go back to Neithrop to day.�  But Michael
Bennett, farmer, has to, it being market day, and off he starts dis-
daning proffered umbrellas.         Another day of happiness. Sometime
in the morning finishing the initials commenced on the day of my arrival
and appending this day�s date thereto, upon the trunk of the old tree,
in the garden, snow falling fast, and drifting into the wounds on the
bark my knife made.       And sometime in the afternoon out with
Mary & Hannah to visit the old grandfather, at their uncle William
Bennett�s house.   He sat in the chimney corner, a plump healthy looking
girl and a child with him.   He talked a little, asked of my father,
said he himself had a cold, and that indeed it was wintry weather.
I tried to get him to speak of my father�s first wife, and of matters
three parts of a century old, and he did to some little extent, but was
deaf, and apt to mistake questions.  �An old man Sir, and his wits
(God help us!) are not so blunt as they should be.� Meantime the
snowstorm was at its height, and when wh we had got back to the
shelter of home, it was with flushed faces and whitened garments.
Time sped on.    Michael returned from Banbury with accounts of
how fast the snow flakes fell, how they half-blinded the wayfarer,
and how they filled the road.     We were all happy, but not un-
mindful of to-morrow, and so, quiet at times, but loved each
other none the less for the approaching parting.  We were, as yesterday
in the best room, the girls, John and I; their father and mother in               
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