died on the road; my two children also died and we buried them by the wayside and put crosses over the graves. I've got one son left and one horse. That’s all we are in the world. Is it possible that I am the same man as I was?
He had the common appearance of a fugitive—a two-horse cart with a single shaft and canvas tilt.
When you meet the first party of fugitives upon the road you think that they’re gipsies.
The populations of whole provinces have become gipsies, and in the month of October are leading a nomad life on the road and in the forests.
It is necessary to form some estimate of the greatness of their unexampled trial. To a cart that should be drawn by two horses one often sees only one.
The other has fallen, or has been sold by the way.
