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home, and a general move was made.
They were all standing about the hall lingering over the
good-nights, when the sound of a voice softly singing "Sweet
Home," made them pause and listen. It was Phebe, poor little
Phebe, who never had a home, never knew the love of father or
mother, brother or sister; who stood all alone in the wide world,
yet was not sad nor afraid, but took her bits of happiness
gratefully, and sung over her work without a thought of discontent.
I fancy the happy family standing there together remembered this
and felt the beauty of it, for when the solitary voice came to the
burden of its song, other voices took it up and finished it so
sweetly, that the old house seemed to echo the word "Home" in the
ears of both the orphan girls, who had just spent their first
Christmas under its hospitable roof.
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