Excerpt from The Wandering Years

Though we did not know it, our time at Claremorris was coming to an end, a very sad and very sudden end. We were still in the sunlight, although the unending War dragged as though it had always been and always would be. Yet one was strangely happy, though every other day one woke at morning to the martial music and knew that a draft was going out. We were incessantly saying good-bye to someone who probably, or possibly, never would return. I have not tried to analyse the secret of the happiness of that last year, despite the fact that our sons were in deadly danger, that at any moment they might be dead or dying, so that our friends had ceased to send us telegrams, knowing how the sight of a telegraph boy would make one"s heart leap and fall as though it were dead.

Letters came to us constantly from Palestine and France. Our elder boy had been all through the Palestine fighting after a year spent on the Struma. When the son of a dear friend of ours was killed before Jerusalem in December 1917, the bereaved father said to me: "I am the seventh son of a seventh son and I have the second sight. I always knew Kevin would be killed and that Toby Hinkson would come home safely."

About the Publisher

Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com

This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works. Это и многое другое вы найдете в книге The Wandering Years (Classic Reprint) (Katharine Tynan)