By Adelaide C. Waldron.
Softly there sounds above the roar
Of the wide world's deafening din,
An echo of song from a far-off time,
Deeper and sweeter than poet's rhyme,
Whose tidings of joy and whose message sublime,
"Heaven's peace on earth, and good-will to mankind,"
Fill me with force; I yet will find
The way to enter in!
* * * * *
CHRISTOPHER GAULT.--A STORY.
By Edward P. Guild.
In the summer of 1879 I went to a quiet town in north-western
Massachusetts, with the object of getting a few weeks of much needed
rest and recreation. It had been four years since the first appearance
of my name as "Attorney and Counsellor at Law," on the door of a small
Washington-street office, just below the _Herald_ Building in the
city of Boston; and, as I had worked all that time with hardly a thought
of rest, I decided to take a good, respectable vacation.
Hopkins, who had an office on the same floor, advised me to go to H----,
in Franklin county, where I could find the purest of air, splendid
scenery, good trout fishing, and entire freedom from fashionable
boarders. As this was just the bill of fare that I wanted, and as
Hopkins was born and brought up there, and ought to know, I thankfully
accepted his advice.
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