There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. She nursed at his neck as he peacefully slumbered through being killed. "What's the matter?" he cried. ” She replied with a rehearsed answer, “I was told that my real mother died the day I was born.
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