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From: Elvyn Blake <venkatesi@apr.com>
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Date: Mon, 26 Mar 2007 06:26:33 +0300
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Subject: [doc-jp 32309] RE: Its for u
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it for some other word which only approximates  exactness, to escape what we
ein oder zwei Englischer Worte, hie und da, denn ich finde dass die deutsche
   The day before he went back to his own home, now so strange to him, he was out with her, searching for some lost turkey-chicks, and found one with its foot caught in a tangle of rusty wire. The little creature had beaten itself almost to death in its struggle to get way. Kneeling in the grass, and feeling the wild palpitations of its heart under his rescuing hand, he had called to his sister, Oh, look! Poor thing! Its most dead, and yet it aint really hurt a mite, only desperate, over bein held fast. His voice broke in a sudden wave of sympathy: Oh, aint it terrible to feel so! 
   And always the pine tree had grown, insolent in the pride of a creature set in the right surroundings. The imprisoned man had felt himself dwarfed by its height. But now, he looked up at it again, and laughed aloud. It had come late, but it had come. He was fifty-seven years old, almost three-score, but all his life was still to be lived. He said to himself that some folks lived their lives while they did their work, but he had done all his tasks first, and now he could live. The unexpected arrival of the timber merchant and the sale of that piece of land hed never thought would bring him a cent -- was not that an evident sign that Providence was with him? He was too old and broken now to work his way about as he had planned at first, but here had come this six hundred dollars like rain from the sky. He would start as soon as he could sell his stock. 
   The day before he went back to his own home, now so strange to him, he was out with her, searching for some lost turkey-chicks, and found one with its foot caught in a tangle of rusty wire. The little creature had beaten itself almost to death in its struggle to get way. Kneeling in the grass, and feeling the wild palpitations of its heart under his rescuing hand, he had called to his sister, Oh, look! Poor thing! Its most dead, and yet it aint really hurt a mite, only desperate, over bein held fast. His voice broke in a sudden wave of sympathy: Oh, aint it terrible to feel so! 



