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Chapter XXII
s o camp--singing of life, of love, of s of a noble race. It   an immortal croion of all ages.

    I sometimes  more sensitive to ties of sculpture tly felt t may, I kno I can feel t-t Greeks in their marble gods and goddesses.

    Anoto tre. I enjoy o me ed on tage far more t, because t seems as if I  of stirring events. It o meet a fe actors and actresses  time and place and live again in tic past. I ted to toucume of Miss Ellen terry as sed our ideal of a queen; and t  divinity t  ellect in ure and attitude and ty t subdues and overcomes in every line of ive face. In teness and inaccessibility of grief w.

    I also knoo count o see o be  time I sa; I en read tory, but I  t, kind iful, patic representation quite carried me a. I ure of old Rip in my fingers ook me to see  of  me touc I could imagine  strange sleep of ty years, and aggered to .

    I ;t; Once  striking parts of quot;t; for me. tion-room age. ed t table, and Bob Acres e s  tures in a  o me. to fig ts and parries of t at  actor gave  a ccant I er and felt Sc my knee. Mr. Jefferson recited t dialogues of quot;Rip Van inkle,quot; in o indicate as far as I could tures and action t sever of dramatic action, and could make only random guesses; but erful art ed tion to t;Is a man so soon forgotten er ion over signing tract o be rig of life itself; t is, they should.

    I remember  time I  to tre. It tle actress, was

    in Boston, and Miss Sullivan took me to see ;t; I s ternating joy and  ran t b
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