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Updated: June 26, 2025
The poem, his reader will remember, begins in this wise: "Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown Of thee from the hilltop looking down." In a prose sentence written in 1835 he says: "Nothing is beautiful alone. Nothing but is beautiful in the whole." In the poem above referred to this becomes: "All are needed by each one; Nothing is fair or good alone."
Gaffer Brown and Gammer Jones took the matter as it came, and the rosy-cheeked, red-cloaked village lasses sate under their broad hats entirely unmoved. My lord, from his pew, nodded slightly to the clergyman in the pulpit, when that divine's head and wig surged up from the cushion. "Sampson has been strong to-day," said his lordship. "He has assaulted the Philistines in great force."
The red-cloaked man seemed to take great delight in the builder's discomfiture, and he said with an ugly grin: "Well, Master Gerhard, I see you have found more than you expected. I am sure you would like to see the merry ducks which shall swim on my brook, according to our bet." He clapped his hands three times and then listened. Some minutes passed, but no ducks appeared.
Nevertheless we agreed to try it, and so, going higher up the stream, we cast ourselves in, and swam quartering across the tide. A long and heavy swim it was, but no more than two strong men could well manage. All the time, however, I looked to see some red-cloaked Dane come out from the trees and spy us; but there was none.
At the touch of his cold fingers, a sensation of horror crept into the heart of Master Gerhard. But the red-cloaked man burst into a yelling laugh and cried out in a formidable voice, "Remember we betted for your soul." Utmost terror seized the trembling architect, cold perspiration stood on his brow, and he tried in vain to utter a word.
On one side of him, a group was discussing a Danish rebellion that seemed to be somewhere in progress; on the other, men were speculating on the chances of a Norman invasion, news of keenest interest was flying thick as bees in June; and the coming and going of the red-cloaked warriors, the occasional passing of some great noble through the throng, stimulated him like wine.
They would have opened their wide mouths wider had they known that the red-cloaked page was looking wistfully at them and their kine and the nodding clover. "It must be very enjoyable to wander all day in the peace of the meadows and hear nothing louder than cow-bells," she was thinking. "It is good to see creatures that no man is stabbing or doing harm to."
"It is the dance of the Northern Lights!" they cried. "Thor has sent him his own sword!" The lines of English were wild with anger. "Crush him, the hornet, the wasp! Crush him, Edmund!" they roared. In his exultation, the Scar-Cheek rolled himself over and over on the grass, and wound up by thrusting his shaggy head into the lap of the red-cloaked page.
He hasn't shown me his report from school in months; whenever I ask him for it he has some excuse. Hello! Is that little Mary crying?" "I wonder what on earth has happened now!" exclaimed the mother, rushing from the room, to return the next instant, pulling after her a red-cloaked and red-hatted little girl who sought to hide behind her. "Well, what do you think she's done?"
Again the farm-lady goes away, and returns bearing a small bottle of medicine, that she bids the red-cloaked woman give the sick girl in about an hour. She then leaves her patient and motley guests to their supper and night's repose, followed by such prayers as the poor alone know how to utter, and perhaps how to feel.
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