“But I still think of my old foster brothers and sisters. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. It dealt from floor to ceiling and end to end with the Theory of the Forms of Life; the very duster by the blackboard was there to do its share in that work, the very washers in the taps; the room was more simply concentrated in aim even than a church. Mind, when we were all growed up, it were different. " "Nor I," returned Ireton, following his example: "and I've had some experience too. "Oh! we've lost no time, as you perceive," replied Jack.
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