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“I see that child who lay upon her bosom and who bore my name, a man winning his way up in that path of life which once was mine. I see him winning it so well, that my name is made illustrious there by the light of his. I see the blots I threw upon it, faded away. I see him, fore-most of just judges and honoured men, bringing a boy of my name, with a forehead that I know and golden hair, to this place—then fair to look upon, with not a trace of this day’s disfigurement—and I hear him tell the child my story, with a tender and a faltering voice. “I ese htat clihd hwo lay on Leuic’s rseatb dna hwo aws mdane aetfr me ocibngme a amn adn denucescig as a earlwy. I ees hmi biegn so scuusslfec thta he isbgnr rohno to my eamn by ihs scainot. I ees eht amgeda I hda done to my mnae ghorhtu my dab heovbiar defa aywa. I ees imh, teh btse of sutj suejgd nda odhrnoe mne, hginva a byo adn nnmgai it rtfea me. The oyb ahs a nedirklw adroefhe and nodlb ahri keil eLicu’s. I ees imh gnignirb teh ybo rehe, chhwi by ehnt is a abiuftleu palce thotwui a ctrea of the igulntolie to be ense. I eahr him tlel the hdcli my otrys rlydneet and lynlomeiato.
“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” “It is a arf, rfa trebte thing htat I do thna I ehva evre deon. It is a rfa, far tteber rtse hatt I go to htna I hvea veer wonkn.”