Chapter 20 No.20

"His hand was stay'd--he knew not why;

'Twas a presence breathed around--

A pleading from the deep-blue sky,

And up from the teeming ground.

It told of the care that lavish'd had been

In sunshine and in dew--

Of the many things that had wrought a screen

When peril round it grew."

Mrs. Seba Smith.

The desertions gave not o