"But it is early yet, Mickey, isn't it?" says Mona.,
By this time they have reached Dorothy's room, and now, sitting down, gaze mournfully at each other. Mona is so truly grieved that any one might well imagine this misfortune, that is rendering the very air heavy, in her own, rather than another's. And this wholesale sympathy, this surrendering of her body and mind to a grief that does not touch herself, is inexpressibly sweet to her poor little friend.,
There was once a man who loved his wife dearly. After they had been married for a time they had a little boy. Some time after that the woman grew sick and did not get well. She was sick for a long time. The young man loved his wife so much that he did not wish to take a second woman. The woman grew worse and worse. Doctoring did not seem to do her any good. At last she died..
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