Living Utmost

The following text is provided for academic use only. In case of typographical errors and some missing contents, students are encouraged to look for printed copies which may be available at the University of Antique Library or other libraries, or from other sources.   The Moretas were spending St. John’s Day with the children’s grandfather, whose feast day it was. Doña Lupeng awoke feeling faint with the heat, a sound of screaming in her ears. In the dining room the three boys already attired in their holiday suits, were at breakfast, and came crowding around her, talking all at once. “How long you have slept, Mama!” “We thought you were never getting up!” “Do we leave at once, huh? Are we going now?” “Hush, hush I implore you! Now look: your father has a headache, and so have I. So be quiet this instant—or no one goes to Grandfather.” Though it was only seven by the clock the house was already a furnace, the windows dilating with the harsh light and the air

The following text is provided for academic use only. In case of typographical errors and some missing contents, students are encouraged to look for printed copies which may be available at the University of Antique Library or other libraries, or from other sources.   Young Goodman Brown came forth at sunset into the street at Salem village; but put his head back, after crossing the threshold, to exchange a parting kiss with his young wife. And Faith, as the wife was aptly named, thrust her own pretty head into the street, letting the wind play with the pink ribbons of her cap while she called to Goodman Brown. "Dearest heart," whispered she, softly and rather sadly, when her lips were close to his ear, "prithee put off your journey until sunrise and sleep in your own bed to-night. A lone woman is troubled with such dreams and such thoughts that she's afeard of herself sometimes. Pray tarry with me this night, dear husband, of all nights in the year." &q