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Rh out into convulsive sobs as they bade a long, long farewell to their sons whom they might never see any more. Women with swollen eyes came rushing on deck to say good-bye once more to their nearest and dearest relations, and there were some among them who were unable to speak a word and only put the handkerchief to their eyes and sobbed convulsively. The clock struck five, friends and relations, were torn from each other, and the steamer steamed off the quay. Long—long as I could see the shore, I saw handkerchiefs still waving in the far hazy distance, and they spoke of a pang too deep for words. It is a hard world we live in,—toil, hard unremitting toil is our lot, and often the dearest cherished affections and love have to be sacrificed to smooth the path of progress and to fulfil our destiny. It is on such sacrifices as these,—manfully made borne,—that true progress based.