He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in China, having missed all the thrills in life except one—the war against Death. ” He glanced over at her cockeyed, and then returned his gaze to the road. John Sheppard. "Put your arms about me. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now.
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