ABSTRACT
‘My dear Margery,’ said my father to my mother, as she sat by his bedside, ‘it is of no use going on so. Dry your eyes;’ (here my mother shed a flood of tears.) ‘Think on me sometimes when I am gone, but do not afflict yourself too much.’
‘My dear Margery,’ said my father to my mother, as she sat by his bedside, ‘it is of no use going on so. Dry your eyes;’ (here my mother shed a flood of tears.) ‘Think on me sometimes when I am gone, but do not afflict yourself too much.’