Even while quaffing the third draught of the Fountain of Youth, they
were almost awed by the expression of his mysterious visage.
But, the next moment, the exhilarating gush of young life shot
through their veins. They were now in the happy prime of youth. Age,
with its miserable train of cares and sorrows and diseases, was
remembered only as the trouble of a dream, from which they had
joyously awoke. The fresh gloss of the soul, so early lost, and
without which the world's successive scenes had been but a gallery
of faded pictures, again threw its enchantment over all their
prospects. They felt like new-created beings in a new-created
universe.
"We are young! We are young!" they cried exultingly.
Youth, like the extremity of age, had effaced the strongly-marked
characteristics of middle life, and mutually assimilated them all.
They were a group of merry youngsters, almost maddened with the
exuberant frolicsomeness of their years. The most singular effect of
their gayety was an impulse to mock the infirmity and decrepitude of
which they had so lately been the victims. They laughed loudly at
their old-fashioned attire, the wide-skirted coats and flapped
waist-coats of the young men, and the ancient cap and gown of the
blooming girl.
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