To gether

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“And he said unto me, Son of man,
can these bones live? And I answered,
O Lord God, thou knowest.”
Ezekiel xxxvii. 3.

Copyright, 1923, by
Robert M. McBride & Co.

Printed in the
United States of America

Published, 1923


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Vocal Characteristics



Voice Age

Young Adult (18-35)


Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
it rains. It has rained ever since. Our arrival in this green alpine village rains not heavily, but with a grim scotch persistence. The kind of drizzle that will tempt some old Abadan Ian sitting unconcerned lian soaking grass by the wayside to look up and remark the roads is something saft. Are we going to have a month of Landrigan, as they call it, no matter anything, for fresh air, anything to escape from the pitiless blaze of the south, and from those stifling nights when your bedroom grows into a furnace, its walls exuding inwardly all the fiery beams they have sucked up during the endless hours of noon. Let it rain little! I thought ever to become a guest in this tavern, familiar as it is to me from olden days, they have made us extremely comfortable. Nothing is amiss, nothing lacking. Our rooms are large and well furnished. Certain preliminary operations were of course necessary in regard to the beds away, first of all, with the keel pollster, that wedge shaped horror away next with the PMO, another invention of the devil and breakfast. Always up here for please for both of us! In my room at half past seven, seeing that work begins at eight sharp, not less than a liter of milk for my friend and two eggs. He is a milk and egg maniac. I am past his stage, though still young enough to revel in that delicious raspberry jelly. Why is it almost unknown in England on one side of my room hangs an early a graph, which depicts a *** sportsman aiming at some chamois from behind a tree at 25 yards distance. Such luck never came my way. The picture on the further side is still more suggestive. Three roe deer, hotly pursued by attacks, and a pug dog would have an equal chance of success. Cheerful pictures of this kind should hang in every room. I shall look at them whenever I feel jaundiced. Our tavern, by the way, is famous for its tax, and they have a couple of thoroughbreds, with faces like orchids, who eat and sleep most of the day, and whose descendants are rapidly stalking the neighborhood. There numerous progeny drop in for a visit from the remotest villages, and are coldly received by the parents. Just now the gentleman is asleep in his spouse, not for the first time indulging in an agitated flirtation with one of her own remote descendants, who has not yet found a home for himself. A very bad example to the rest of us. Through the silvery curtain of drizzle I glance five eastwards, and recognized the old old view, the earliest that ever greeted my eyes for our nursery. Windows up yonder looked also towards the rising sun, and once, not in the day, but late at night I was lifted out bed and placed on the window sill. To behold the wondrous thing the sky all a blister with livid raise. This aurora borealis is my first memory of life, and the apparition must have been recorded in the newspapers of the day, since it was the only not list ever seen to my knowledge in the country. The vexed question therefore, of a man's earliest memory could be settled so far as I am concerned, if one had the energy to hunt up the files, they're confronting me. On its hill stands the church with red top steeple carried off the four bells to be melted down. Three new ones have since been purchased at Innsbruck. They chime pleasantly enough, but not quite the same as of your one would like to hear the old ones again, for memory's sake, after all these years, how gaily! They used to tremble on the air at midday, while one roamed about the hills at the back of the house, and how one rushed down to be in time for lunch in, seated on a for branch, an excellent method of progression on steep, slippery meadows provide. Why would there be no stones or wasps nests on the track? One day long ago we three slid in this fashion and let a breathless speed down the never ending slopes of the for classics up above Blue dens. Nothing happened till about halfway when the eldest felt a jolt, a slight cavity in the ground and called out to me to beware. It was too late! I was pitched in and out again. My sister, who followed, carrying less weight, came to rest there. The cavity was a wasp's nest, and the church is backed by a mountain called hope. Even at this distance, one can detect a belt of green stretching across its middle, near the scattered houses of louis Cherbourg. Wonderful! What manure will do? Everybody goes up the Hope you'll go far on account of the view, which is remarkable considering its low elevation of not even 2000 m. Though personally, if one must find places like this, I should prefer the man spits or Iraq from blue dens or anywhere else catch a glimpse of the rhine and lake constance and snow peaks innumerable of half this small province of Quebec, in fact, and be home again in time for a late lunch. In near the top is the now inevitable hut for the convenience of fact, tourists cows, pasture about the summit among the alpine roses and dwarf pines. One here at the right seven season, you may capture as many Apollo butterflies as you please.