Consider Nothing Impossible, Then Treat Possiblities As

I Have Been, As The Phrase Is, Liberally Educated, And Am Fit For Nothing.

The Weathercocks On Spires And Housetops Were Mysterious With Hints Of Stormy Wind, And Pointed, Like So Many Ghostly Fingers, Out To Dangerous Seas, Where Fragments Of Great Wrecks Were Drifting, Perhaps, And Helpless Men Were Rocked Upon Them Into A Sleep As Deep As The Unfathomable Waters.

When I Speak Of Home, I Speak Of The Place Where In Default Of A Better--those I Love Are Gathered Together; And If That Place Where A Gypsy's Tent, Or A Barn, I Should Call It By The Same Good Name Notwithstanding.

... When The Locked Door Opens, And There Comes In A Young Woman, Deadly Pale, And With Long Fair Hair, Who Glides To The Fire, And Sits Down In The Chair We Have Left There, Wringing Her Hands.

"walter," She Said, Looking Full Upon Him With Her Affectionate Eyes, "like You, I Hope For Better Things. I Will Pray For Them, And Believe That They Will Arrive."