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from their trundle-bed, in the quiet sleep of childhood,

A blast with snow, came against the casement. "I always think," said John, "a great deal about my poor brother, at this season of the year, and especially in stormy nights. But it is now so many years since we have heard from him, and his way of life exposed him to so much danger, that I fear we have strong reason to believe him dead."

"What a pity," replied the wife, "that he would be a soldier."

A faint knocking was heard at the door. It was opened, and a man entered wearily, and leaning upon crutches. His clothes were thin and tattered, and his countenance haggard. They reach-