It arises, I think, from an over developed sense of humour. 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. They send you every good wish. Yet even now there were so many things untouched, so much to be learned.
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