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Islanded.*

Chap. 1
Fair Weather.

"Ice-free and fast the rivers flow,
The southern breezes scarcely fret
The smiling oceans slum brows swell -
Has spring returned?" "I ween, not yet -

The sun hangs low." "List yonder bird!
The sod is soft the heaven is fair" -
"Beware, lest Boreas from the north
Leap as a lion from his lair!"

We awoke at a late hour on the morning of the twenty fifth of December on account of the
x [[line]]

The writer has leave to refute before it is made, any charge to the effect that he has intentionally copied any of the numerous narratives of like kind that he has been acquainted with except in Spirit and Stile, that which pleased his own fancy of a dozen years [[strikethrough]] groth [[/strikethrough]] growth, which is [[strikethrough]] is [[/strikethrough]] his only apology for the present concoction.