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” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. and Mrs. It’s—Mrs. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy. Sheppard's attention; and no sooner did she in some degree recover from the shock occasioned by the sight of her son's debased condition, than, regardless of any other consideration except his instant removal from the contaminating society by which he was surrounded, and utterly forgetting the more cautious plan she meant to have adopted, she rushed into the room, and summoned him to follow her. ‘Lucky I have you to keep me from Bedlam, then. I saw their boat swept away, and heard the roar of the fall beneath the bridge; and no one, who was present, could doubt the result. F. The hansom drove off. Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love.
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