Thus sadly ended bright hopes
and dreams of a happy home in rich and free America.
Another neighbor, I remember, after a lingering illness died of the
same disease in midwinter, and his funeral was attended by the
neighbors in sleighs during a driving snowstorm when the thermometer
was fifteen or twenty degrees below zero. The great white plague
carried off another of our near neighbors, a fine Scotchman, the
father of eight promising boys, when he was only about forty-five
years of age. Most of those who suffered from this disease seemed
hopeful and cheerful up to a very short time before their death, but
Mr. Reid, I remember, on one of his last visits to our house, said
with brave resignation: "I know that never more in this world can I
be well, but I must just submit. I must just submit."
One of the saddest deaths from other causes than consumption was that
of a poor feeble-minded man whose brother, a sturdy, devout, severe
puritan, was a very hard taskmaster. Poor half-witted Charlie was kept
steadily at work,--although he was not able to do much, for his body
was about as feeble as his mind.
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