  We awoke one morning; our gipsies were gone; our camp was gone; no light shining through as we lay in our tent. No freshness of the morning air; no wafted perfume of fragrant wild flowers; no music of the waterfall in the glen below. We were left to pursue the pathway of our journey alone. Yet our notes de voyage remained to us. Impressions caught on the wayside of travel—written by the light of actual circumstance—we give them to our readers. They are a true episode in a life. |
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