Summary

Various The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01…

Towards evening Clarice walked away to the Point, three miles off; thence she could watch the boats as they approached the Bay from the ocean. Once before, that day, under the scorching noontide sun, she had gone thither,—and now again, for she could not endure the sympathy of friends or the wondering watch of curious eyes. It was better than to stand and wait,—better than to face the grief of Merlyn's wife and children,—better than to see the pity in her neighbors' faces, or even than to hear the voice of her own mother.
Source: Gutenberg

Various The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01…

Have we, then, forgotten that the true prosperity of a nation is moral, and not material? that its strength depends, not on the width of its boundaries, nor the bulk of its census, but on its magnanimity, its honor, its fidelity to conscience? There is a Fate which spins and cuts the threads of national as of individual life, and the case of God against the people of these United States is not to be debated before any such petty tribunal as Mr. Buchanan and his advisers seem to suppose.
Source: Gutenberg

Various The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01…

Look, what a pearl! You must keep it for your own, any way, if you won't wear it. Nobody about here is fit but you. The poor little basket, too,—poor little ark!"
He took it up and looked it over, much as though it were a dead bird, or some other pretty thing that once had life, and knew bow to enjoy it.
"Are you going out to-day, Luke?" asked Clarice.
"Don't you see I've got the net? Father will be down by the time I'm ready. We are tired enough hanging about waiting for the blow to be over."
"May-be you will see something," said Clarice, in an undertone.
Source: Gutenberg

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