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Updated: May 8, 2025
The day he cast off the old red jacket of the rank and file and put on the black uniform with braid looped back and forth across the front of it, and gold hieroglyphics on the collar, Piegan Smith and I stood up with him and Lyn and helped them get fitted to double harness.
"What are you making, Lyn?" he asked, taking the ottoman and drawing close to her. "It it isn't anything, Con. No one wants trash like this. It fulfils its mission when it is ravelled and knitted, then unravelled. You know what Stevenson says: 'I travel for travel's sake; the great affair is to move. I knit for knitting's sake; it keeps my hands busy while my my soul basks."
Swearing, and vowing vengeance on Jem Lyn, and Garry, and the Teachmans each one of whom, by the way, was sound asleep during this pleasant interlude and shaking with the cold, and sputtering with uncontrollable fury, the fat man did at length get dressed, and after two or three libations of milk punch, recovered his temper somewhat, and his spirits altogether.
"Why, what would you do," said I, "if you did know?" "Lick him, by George! Lick him, in the first place, till he was as nigh dead as I daared lick him and then I'd make him eat up every darned line of it! But come, come breakfast's ready; and while we're getting through with it, Timothy and Jem Lyn will fix the pig-box, and make the deer all right and tight for traveling!"
Come here, dear, and see my baby." Betty put forth a welcoming hand to the child, but Ann shrank away and her long silence was broken. "I jes' naturally hate babies!" she whispered, in the soft drawl that betrayed her. "Lyn, who is she? Why what is the matter?" Lynda came close and her words did not reach past Betty's strained hearing. "I I'm going to adopt her. I I must prepare, Con.
You always did that, from girlhood. I might have known no other woman could have done what you have done, no such woman as you, Lyn, without a mighty motive; but you did not know me, really!" And now, looking at Lynda, it was like looking at a dead face a face from which warmth and light had been stricken. "I do not know what you mean, Con," she said, vaguely.
And he'll know if Lyn Rowan has come to Walsh." I wasn't in shape, financially, to have any choice in the matter of a stopping-place. Forty or fifty dollars of expense money covered the loose cash in my pockets when I left Walsh for Benton; and, while I may have neglected to mention the fact, those two coin-collectors didn't overlook the small change when they held me up for La Pere's roll.
And then when Ann trotted off to do the bidding, Betty asked: "What did he say, Lyn, when you told him?" "He said he was glad, very glad. He has been willing, for a long time, that I should take a child when I saw one I wanted. He naturally connects Ann with the Saxe Home; her being with you has strengthened this belief. I shall let it go at that for a time, Betty." "Yes. It is better so.
This is the valley of the Lyn, and joining it is another little glen, with a hamlet of white cottages at the junction: this is the Oare valley, the centre of some of the most stirring traditions of Exmoor, embodied in Blackmore's novel of Lorna Doone.
These we gathered carefully together, against the time of meeting Lyn, and then for time pressed, and a dead man, though he may be your friend and his passing a sorrow, is out of the game forever we dragged him from beneath the dead horse, wrapped him in the canvas pack-cover, and buried him in the soft leaf-mold where he lay, as we had buried his lifetime partner early in the morning.
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