THE SHAD0W.

There is no moment of life, however festive, that does not involve thenear presence of a possible tragedy. When the concert of life is playingthe gayest and airiest music, it requires only the change of a littleflat or sharp to modulate into the minor key.

There seemed at first glance only the elements of joyousness and gayetyin the surroundings at the Pitkin farm. Thanksgiving was come--thefamily, healthy, rosy, and noisy, were all under the one roof-tree. Therewas energy, youth, intelligence, beauty, a pair of lovers on the eve ofbetrothal--just in that misty, golden twilight that precedes the fullsunrise of avowed and accepted love--and yet behind it all was walkingwith stealthy step the shadow of a coming sorrow.