Nelly seemed to see and hear nothing that was passing around her. The
shadow upon her face deepened; the sweet blue eyes filled with tears.
At last she rose, and, crossing the stile, passed rapidly through the
wheat-field, climbed a low stone wall and presently came to a green
knoll, shaded by a sycamore-tree, commanding a view of the public
road. Here she stood, eagerly gazing down the road, while seemingly
struggling to subdue a sorrow which, however, soon found vent in
heart-broken sobs. Still searching the road with anxious, tearful
eyes, she seemed to hesitate for a while, but at last, after casting
many a fearful glance toward the farm-house, the little girl began to
descend the high bank, slipping many times, and sadly scratched by the
rough gravel and projecting roots of the trees.
Having reached the bottom, she did not pause a moment, but drew her
light shawl over her head and ran swiftly away. And now let us try to
discover the cause of all this trouble.
My dear young friends, have you ever heard of a disease called
"nostalgia?" A long, hard word, and one which contains a world of
terrible meaning. It is a kind of sickness which attacks not only
children, but also strong and wise men, who have been known to suffer,
nay, even to _die_, because they could not obtain the only remedy
which ever does any good.
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