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 twin brother, my heart began to sing at the sound of your name"

"Call it," he whispered.

"Phil, my sweetheart!" she said with a laugh.

"How tender and homelike the music of your voice! The world has never seen the match of your gracious Southern womanhood! Snow-bound in the North, I dreamed, as a child, of this world of eternal sunshine. And now every memory and dream I've found in you."

"And you won't be disappointed in my simple ideal that finds its all within a home?"

"No. I love the old-fashioned dream of the South. Maybe you have enchanted me, but I love these green hills and mountains, these rivers musical with cascade and fall, these solemn forests—but for the Black Curse, the South would be to-day the garden of the world!"

"And you will help our people lift this curse?" softly asked the girl, nestling closer to his side.

"Yes, dearest, thy people shall be mine! Had I a thousand wrongs to cherish, I'd forgive them all for your sake. I'll help you build here a new South on all that's good and noble in the old, until its dead fields blossom again, its harbours bristle with ships, and the hum of a thousand industries make music in every valley. I'd sing to you in burning verse if I could, but it is not my way. I have been awkward and slow in love, perhaps—but I'll be swift in your service. I dream to make dead stones and wood live and breathe for you, of victories wrung from Nature that are yours. My poems will be deeds, my