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25
THE
FOSTER-MOTHER's TALE.
A Narration in Dramatic Blank Verse.
But that entrance, Mother!
FOSTER-MOTHER.
Can no one hear? It is a perilous tale!
MARIA.
No one.
FOSTER-MOTHER.
My husband's father told it me,
Poor old Leoni!—Angels rest his soul!
He was a woodman, and could fell and saw
With lusty arm. You know that huge round beam
Which props the hanging wall of the old chapel?
