NIGHT THE TENTH.
353
After which the people dispersed to their homes, each with a lighter heart, and better hopes for the future of their village.
On the next day, as I entered the stage that was to bear me from Cedarville, I saw a man strike his sharp axe into the worn, faded, and leaning post that had, for so many years, borne aloft the "Sickle and Sheaf;" and, just as the driver gave word to his horses, the false emblem which had invited so many to enter the way of destruction, fell crashing to the earth.
THE END.
