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Rh That he is going—just as I know now That Archibald is going and that I Am staying. . . . Look at me, my boy, And when the time shall come for you to see That I must follow after him, try then To think of me, to bring me back again, Just as I was to-day. Think of the place Where we are sitting now, and think of me— Think of old Isaac as you knew him then, When you set out with him in August once To see old Archibald."—The words come back Almost as Isaac must have uttered them, And there comes with them a dry memory Of something in my throat that would not move.

If you had asked me then to tell just why I made so much of Isaac and the things He said, I should have reached far for an answer; For I knew it was not sorrow that I felt, Whatever I may have wished it, or tried then To make myself believe. My mouth was full Of words, and they would have been comforting To Isaac, spite of my twelve years, I think; But there was not in me the willingness To speak them out. Therefore I watched the ground; And I was wondering what made the Lord