Category: Short Stories
The next morning the sky was gray, and filled with flying clouds. The wind was blowing fresh and cold from the northwest, and the boys shivered, until their morning bath set their blood racing through their veins.
Weeks and months went by, and each week found Mercy better and brighter and stronger, until her tongue used to go like a mill clapper, and a continual stream of chatter overflow...
1. CHAPTER VII.The next morning the sky was gray, and filled with flying clouds. The wind was blowing fresh and cold from the northwest, and the boys shivered, until their morning bath set the...