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Updated: June 23, 2025
What troubles thee? Tell Keren." And from beneath her kirtle th' poor jade sobs out, "He's gone! he's gone! he's gone! They've taken him to work on th' big seas and our child not yet born and me so ailing; and, oh! I want to die! I want to die!"
"Wilt thou stand there and tell me i' th' eyes that thou hast so oft looked love into," quoth he, like a man choked with spleen "I say, wilt thou, Keren Lemon, stand there and face me, Robert Hacket, and say thou hast ne'er given me reason to believe that thou didst love me?" quoth he. "No more cause than I've given to twenty better than thee!" quoth she.
"An' so could my lass 'a' been, had she willed it," saith I; but ere I could further forget myself, in comes Keren by another door, and she saith, "Father, do thou go out, and leave me to speak with this lady." Then to th' dame she saith, "Your ladyship," saith she, "I am Keren Lemon, that be called th' Farrier Lass. What wouldst thou with me?"
Every one present, the old woman included, bent the head at these words, and Cuthbert felt by some instinct that his life was now safe. "Keren Happuch." "Yes, aunt."
He took advantage of our short stay at Mahaber, to proceed to Keren, in the Bogos, where he was called by business, intending to join again our party a few stages ahead. We looked at our map, and estimated the distance from our halting-place to the Bogos at the utmost eighteen miles. As he was provided with excellent mules, in four or five hours he naturally expected to reach his destination.
Well, well, a year had passed, and things were jogging very peaceful like, and Keren settled down as quiet as a plough-broken mare, when one day as I sit i' th' kitchen, while th' lass mends my apron, there comes a fumbling at th' latch like as though a child made shift to open it.
Now, two more years were sped since that Ruth had left us, and sometimes would we hear through friends o' th' little lad and 's mother and father, and always was Ruth a-sending of pretty messages to Keren her love, and her thanks, and how happy she was, and th' boy so like his father and more than I remember.
"W'y, yes, y'can, too, Ezry," Aunt Keren argued, "seems to me you're forehanded enough, to do for an only child. 'Tain't 's if you was like me 'n' Ab., with our four chunies." "She'd have to go to an academy first to get fitten for it," said Ma. "She couldn't go to the Univers'ty for three or four years yet." "Of course not," I answered; "but you might write to Mr.
"The cat!" quoth Keren, waxing as red as any damask rose for very anger; "the little, spiteful cat! But I'll cut her claws for her! Do thou bide and mark me, father. Ay, I'll serve her and her Robert in such wise they'll go to their graves remembering." Now, 'twas the very next day that the lads and lasses o' the village did crown her harvest-queen, and all Bidford was out to see 't.
Brown writes: 'I regard Kronos as the equivalent of Karnos, Karnaios, Karnaivis, the Horned God; Assyrian, KaRNu; Hebrew, KeReN, horn; Hellenic, KRoNos, or KaRNos. Mr. Brown seems to think that Cronus is 'the ripening power of harvest, and also 'a wily savage god, in which opinion one quite agrees with him.
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