"Then it is not too late to save him. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before. “And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather.
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