Mrs. J. S. Adams

Capitolo 3

lived by a man and wife from which only child was the fast evanescence the
world.

"Raise me on a small, mother", it said the dying boy, "so I can feel the
Bell of Christmas. It will be the last time I will feel here them mother.
Is it almost morning?"

The pale mother dried the death-dew from his/her eyebrow and kissed him/it,
saying, "Sì, dear, it is almost morning. The bells will play soon in harmonious way as
the first ray comes above to the hills."

Patiently his/her child sat, you/he/she abandoned him in his/her bed, you cultivate the gilded arrows of
light flashed on the earth. Day had come, but no bell.

"What can the matter be?" it said the anxious mother, as she violated her/it
eyes in the direction of the tower.

Thing if the old verger were dead? The thought took all of its strength
street. If died had you/he/she picked him up that it would place before softly by his/her boy?

"Is it almost calculations?"

"Almost, Jimmy, dear. The old verger has perhaps slept late."

"Will The bells play in harmonious way in sky, mother?"

"Yes, dear, I hope this way."

"Their desire they encircle them for me if--if--me--his/her mother! listening! the bells _are_
encircling! The good old verger has finally gone to the church!"

The eyes of the boy shone with a strange light. In vain his/her mother
listened. Any sound came to the ears of _her_. Still everybody was as died.

"Oh, as beautiful they sing them!" he said, and it fell supports and it died.

The other bells fell on its ear, more dessert far that the bells of Street Auburn.

From more than a hour the old verger worked to the ropes
in vain. Any sound come ahead by both bell.

"What can the matter be?" he exclaimed, nervously. "For seven long years
they has not succeeded in encircling out their tones. Me once more I will try." And him
it did so, vigorously.

Only the figure of a man was then standing in the street of access. It was the owner
of the bell. He had gone the home of the verger, while not feeling the bells
to the usual time, thinking him had slept too much;  and, not finding him/it, it had