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There was no breach of punctuality:
Though sighs, from deeper founts than tears, were heaved,
When she drew forth the summer riding-habit
Worn last when in the saddle with her father.
“Here are the horses at the door!” cried Rachel;
“A bay horse and a black; the bay is yours.”
When they were mounted, Lothian remarked:
“Little Good Harbor Beach shall be our point;
So called because an Indian once pronounced

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The harbor ‘little good,’ meaning ‘quite bad’;
A broad and open beach, from which you see.
Running out southerly the ocean side
Of Eastern Point; its lofty landward end
Gray with huge cliffs. There shall you mark ‘Bass Rock,’
Rare outlook when a storm-wind from the east
Hurls the Atlantic up the craggy heights.”