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Excerpt from Alice Learmont: Or, a Mother's Love
Aweel softly said the younger lady a lady in form and nature, though possibly not quite a lady born As she spoke, the color came into her face, and she looked 'with eyes wherein shone a heavenly light on her handi work the last crowning handiwork of her mother-joy. She had been banishing the cob webs and dust from an old oaken cradle, and hiding its worm-eaten holes with white curtains tied with green.
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