Dreamily watching the shadows of that chill November night.
Ere it had seemed a moment she again stood by his chair;
She had called at their neighbor’s cabin, but Nellie had not been there.
Roderick slowly rising took his rifle from the rack,
For the road was wild and lonely and led through a forest tract;
Over the ruts and boulders, chatting, they strode[86] along
Till the voice of raw-boned Harry was heard in a merry song.
“Singing for Nell’s amusement,” said the wife, as she hurried on;
“Pity,” she added, musing, “that they have no child of their own.”
Soon with a hearty greeting they were met at the cabin door,