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Caswell, H. S. (Harriet S.), 1834-

"Or, Memories of the Past"

Rising to his
feet, he said in a voice of deep displeasure: "Since you are so fond of
a new friend, I suppose you no longer consider an old one worth
retaining, so I will trouble you no longer." I attempted to reason with
him, saying I could not see why a new friendship should alienate us who
had been friends from our childhood; but by this time he had worked
himself into a fearful passion and made use of very violent language. I
had learned long ago that when his anger was excited, he was not master
of either his words or actions. I stepped forward, and laying my hand
upon his shoulder tried to recall him to himself, but he threw off my
hand as if my touch had been contamination, and without another word
walked from the room. As I looked after his retreating form as he walked
hastily down the street I could not help a feeling of pity for him, that
he should suffer himself to be governed by such an unhappy temper, for I
knew that when his anger became cooled he would bitterly repent of his
conduct.


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