The sweeping sound of the
funeral train faded away like a thin vapor, and the wind, that just
before had seemed to shake the coffin pall, moaned sadly round the
verge of the Hollow between three Hills. But when the old woman
stirred the kneeling lady, she lifted not her head.
"Here has been a sweet hour's sport!" said the withered crone,
chuckling to herself.
THE END
.
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