Good-bye to Beecham. 147

 

and it was natural for us all to feel
sad as we looked at her, so aged
since we saw her last, and in her
deep, deep mourning. We couldn't
help thinking of the blue sea far
away, with the soft spicy wind
blowing from the beautiful coral
islands over the quiet waves, which
had so cruelly sucked in dear Uncle
Hugh’s brave ship and all on
board. But the pleasure of meeting
soon put away all sad thoughts, and
I think even grandmamma looked
bright and contented as she listened
to our merry talk.

It was in the middle of the
long summer days, and we rambled