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Updated: June 23, 2025
Semantha smiled, she generally did that, turned you swiftly to the light, caught your inside belt on the fly, as it were, fastened that, fluttered to the top, exactly matched the top hook to the top eye, and, high presto! a little pull at the bottom, a swift smooth down beneath the arms, and you were finished, and you knew your back was a joy until the act was over.
For had she been but a memory, Semantha would have been free to love and reverence that memory, and it might have been as a very strong staff to support her timid steps in rough and dangerous places. But alas! she lived and was no staff to lean upon; but was, instead, an ever present rod of punishment. She was a harmful woman, a destroyer of young tempers, a hardener of young hearts.
Faithful Semantha was awaiting him, and was not pleased at the pal's presence, and was more distressed still when her lover refused to go to the shelter she had prepared for him, in which he was to don his new finery, but insisted upon going with his friend.
Und de mutter seen him in de glass, und first she break dat glass, und den she stand and smile a little, und for days und days, when somebody be about, my mutter put out de lips und make sounds like kisses, so as to shame de vater before everybody. Oh, yes, let 'em laugh; he kiss me, und I stay Semantha Waacker."
When Semantha, who was her first born, too, came home with gifts and money in her hands, her mother received her with frowning brows and sullen, silent lips.
Even that woman who with wide-open, lustrous eyes had boldly broken every law human and divine, yet was forgiven her uncounted sins, because of her loving faith and true repentance, Semantha knew not of, nor of repentance nor its necessity, nor its power. "Let her alone! I say, she was a heathen. But even so, God made her.
In a little old cottage in Lewisburg, on one of the streets which was never traveled except by a solitary cow seeking pasture or a countryman bringing wood to some one of the half-dozen families living in it, and which in summer was decked with a profusion of the yellow and white blossoms of the dog-fennel in this unfrequented street, so generously and unnecessarily broad, lived Miss Nancy Sawyer and her younger sister Semantha.
And received for answer, "What is it? why, it's stealing." Semantha gave a cry. "Yes," continued the straightforward one, "it's stealing without secrecy; that's what sponging is." Poor Semantha astonished, insulted, frightened turned her quivering face to the other girl and passionately cried, "Und she, my Fräulein Clara, tink she dat I steal of her?"
"Und der pins why, I can't no more count. Und I never t'ought you had to pay for dem all. You see, I be so green, fräulein, I dun know no manners, und I did, I did use dem, I know I did; but, so help me, I didn't mean to spoonge, und by Gott I didn't shteal!" I caught her hands, they were wildly beating at the air then, and said, "I know it, Semantha, my poor Semantha, I know it."
She came back again, dazed and white, her hand pressed to her heart, and as she stood there a lad who hung about the prison grounds a good deal, did odd jobs or held a horse now and then, and who knew Semantha well, came along and cried out, 'I say, why didn't you go with yer feller and his pal?
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