United States or Sudan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Aa've often thowt so, i' my aan preachin. Heaven an hell are verra well for t' foak as are ower good, or ower bad; bit t' moast o' foak are juist a mish-mash." He shook his head slowly, and then ventured a glance at Miss Fountain to see whether he had appeased her. Laura seemed to rouse herself with an effort from some thoughts of her own. "Daffady how the sun's shining! I'll go out.
Yo mun wrastle wi t' sin an gaa saftly by t' sinner." "Sin!" she said scornfully. Daffady was quelled. "I've allus thowt mysen," he said hastily, "as we'd a deal to larn from Romanists i' soom ways. Noo, their noshun o' Purgatory I daurna say a word for 't when t' minister's taakin, for there's noa warrant for 't i' Scriptur, as I can mek oot bit I'll uphod yo, it's juist handy!
Lifting her skirt daintily, she picked her way across the dirty yard, and fumbled at a door opposite the door whence she had seen old Daffady come out at dinner-time. "Who's there?" shouted a threatening voice from within. Laura succeeded in lifting the clumsy latch. Hubert Mason, from inside, saw a small golden head appear in the doorway.
On another occasion, as Laura went flitting across the kitchen, drawing to herself the looks of both its inmates, she heard what seemed to be a fragment of talk about a funeral. "Aye, poor Jenny!" said Mrs. Mason. "They didna mak' mich account on her whan t' breath wor yanst oot on her." "Nay," Daffady shook his head for sympathy, "it wor a varra poor set-oot, wor Jenny's buryin.
Even in the homeliest question it had the same penetrating, passionate quality that belonged to her gaze to her whole personality indeed. Hubert dropped his phrase and his knife and fork and stared angrily at Daffady, the old cowman and carter. Daffady threw his master a furtive look, then munched through a mouthful of bread and cheese without replying.
Mason would say at last, throwing herself back against her chair with very red cheeks. And Daffady would look round furtively, trying to hear. But sometimes the curate would try to propitiate the young ladies. He made himself gentle; he raised the most delicate difficulties. He had, for instance, a very strange compassion for the Saints.
Meanwhile, Polly, very big and square, much reddened also by the fuss of household work, stood just behind her cousin's shoulder, looking down, half in envy, half in admiration, at the slimness of the white wrists and pretty fingers. A little later the two girls, all traces of their housework removed, came back into the kitchen. Daffady and Mrs. Mason had disappeared.
"I was not going to stay and be treated like that before strangers!" he said, with a sulky fierceness. "Mother thinks she and Daffady can just have their own way with me, as they'd used to do when I was nobbut a lad. But I'll let her know aye, and the men too!" "But if you hate farming, why don't you let Daffady do the work?" Her sly voice stung him afresh.
She divined she was sure of an agitation in him which at once calmed her own. She quickly assured him that she was much better, that the pain was fast subsiding. Then she begged him to hurry on. She even forced herself to smile and talk. "It was very ghostly, wasn't it? Daffady, our old cow-man, will never believe they were real horses.
Laura, moreover, had a letter from Bannisdale, and since it came there had been passing lights in Miss Fountain's eyes, and passing reds on her pale cheeks. As the girl approached her cousin, Mrs. Mason turned upon her abruptly. "Dostha want the cart to-morrow? Daffady said soomat aboot it." "If it could be spared." Mrs. Mason looked at her fixedly.
Word Of The Day