He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said. Miss Ellicot has spoken to you, the great Mr. Curses light on the horse!" he added, seizing the bridle of his steed, who continued snorting and shivering, as if still under the influence of some unaccountable alarm; "what can ail him?" "I know what ails him, your honour," rejoined the groom, riding up as he spoke; "he's seen somethin' not o' this world. Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it.
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