Excerpt from MelodyIt's like the foreign birds they tell about! Said Miss Rejoice, folding her thin hands, and settling herself on the pillow with an air of perfect content, nightingales, and skylarks, and all the birds in the poetry books. What is she doing, Vesta?Miss Rejoice could see part of the yard from her bed. She could see the white lilac bush, now a mass of snowy plumes, waving in the June breeze, she could see the road, and knew whe...
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