Read "The Robbers' Cave" by Charlotte Maria Tucker online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
A strange Sabbath was that to Horace which commenced with the dawning day. He closed his eyes on the rude and gloomy cave around him, and tried to make memory and fancy replace the hateful scene; he sought to shut his ears to the noise of oaths, profane talking, and wrangling. Sadly he recalled privileges unprized and too often neglected when he had had the power to enjoy them. He had frequently been weary of the quiet monotony of the holy day, desiring more active amusements, more exciting pursuits, and now remembered the peaceful Sabbaths in his home almost as though they had been spent in paradise, and sighed when the doubt presented itself whether he would ever be permitted to know such Sundays again.
It need scarcely be said that the Sabbath was no holy season to the robbers. It was passed with rather more of noisy riot than the preceding day had been. There was more of the wild mirth so forcibly described as "the crackling of thorns under the pot," the laughter which makes the thoughtful listener more sad than sounds of woe. The robbers gambled, danced, reveled, swore.