In the long years to come, new interests would take the place of the old tie; a wife and babes would fill that life; healthy toil allied to honorable ambition would make the years seem to fly; and the memory of a convict brother would drop out of life, only to be recalled tenderly at those seasons when a universal festival brings back the old days and makes the rotting thread of memory seem new and strong once more.
"The Locusts' Years"
Mary Helen Fee
Valeria did not reply, but stood very straight and dignified in the shadow of the huge pile of rotting railroad ties.
"Lonesome Land"
B. M. Bower
Except for this strange smell of rotting apples it was all very much as it had been.
"Fortitude"
Hugh Walpole