I owe his mother one, and will repay the debt, with interest, to her son. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. " "Are they good?" "He can write; but he hasn't found anything real to write about. You know—I worship you.
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