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Updated: May 4, 2025
She walked up to the man's side, and, seeing the expression on his face as he gazed out over the wet roofs, she said "Yes, it is, rather isn't it? after Croft." "Oh, don't talk of Croft, child, or you'll bring my spring madness upon me before its time. I have had hints of it this morning, as it is.
Scabious would presently throw a mauve pallor over more than one meadow croft; in another, waters rose and rushes and yellow iris flourished and defied husbandry; elsewhere stubble, left unploughed by the last defeated farmer, gleamed silver-grey through a growth of weeds; while at every point the Moor thrust forward hands laden with briar and heather.
So they held an informal inquest upon their leader's body, and buried him in the little graveyard that was walled in on the hill-side at the back of where the house had stood, and planted with the four red gums, one at each corner. Rather than be at the pains of hollowing another grave, they buried him in the very place that he had caused to be dug to receive the body of Silas Croft.
Next day they learnt from the natives that what she had heard was the roar of the big guns covering the flight of the British troops down the precipitous sides of Majuba Mountain. After these tidings old Silas Croft began to lose heart a little. The run of disaster was so unrelieved that even his robust faith in the invincibility of the English arms was shaken.
"I will reap this to-morrow," said he. And that night he went back to Narberth, and on the morrow, in the gray dawn, he went to reap the croft; and when he came there, he found nothing but the bare straw. Every one of the ears of the wheat was cut off from the stalk, and all the ears carried entirely away, and nothing but the straw left. And at this he marvelled greatly.
"Have you heard the news?" said a neighbor to Mr. Croft, the poor bedridden man. It was five years from the day he gave the poor cripple, Tom Hicks, his first lesson. "What news?" the sick man asked, in a feeble voice, not even turning his head towards the speaker. Life's pulses were running very low. The long struggle with disease was nearly over.
Notwithstanding all these gifts and possibilities, the doctor's wife advised the Widow Croft to make a plumber of him, intimating delicately that these freaks of nature, while playing no apparent part in the divine economy, could sometimes be made self-supporting. The seventeenth year of his life marked a definite epoch in his development.
Don't you think there is something dreadfully stiff about always being perched up in a chair?" "Yes," said Lawrence, "on some occasions." And, forthwith, she began upon the first chapter; and having read five lines of this, she went back and read the title page, suddenly remembering that Mr Croft liked to begin a book at the very beginning.
I follow, as best I can, in their footsteps. But though I have no time for visiting, it is not neglected." "Yes?" said the rector, inquiringly. "Our class-leaders do that. John Dawson and Jacob Hargraves and Hannah Sarum are the class-leaders in Hallam and West Croft. You know them?" "Yes." "They are well read in the Scriptures. They have sorrowed and suffered. They understand the people.
She wished, therefore, to lose no time in stating to Mr Croft that what she had said to him, with her own lips, was to be received as her final resolve; and that the answer given to Mr Keswick was not intended for Mr Croft's ears.
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