Mounting the door he had last opened, he placed his hands on the wall above, and quickly drew himself up. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. “Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. “I’m not going to college, John. You know nothing of life, nothing of its dangers, nothing of its possibilities. He had need of all the inexhaustible energy of his character to support him through his toilsome walk over the wet grass, or along the slippery ploughed land. Manning? I suppose there’s a sort of place like a ticket-office.
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