Faces in the Fire - And Other Fancies #222437

Home. As I sit here, and let my memory play among the years, I smile at the odd way in which these southern lands have belied that first austere impression. In my fire to-night I see such crowds of faces — the faces of those with whom I have laughed and cried, and camped and played, and worked and worshipped in the course of these one and-twenty years. There are fancy-faces, too.