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"Oh, Miss Hermy, my Martin's very bad t'night, an' I got t' go out, an' I can't leave him alone; would ye mind comin' down an' sittin' with him for a bit?" "Why, of course I will." "Y' see, since he had th' stroke, he's sorrered for our little Maggie he was hard on her, y' see, an' since she she died he's been grievin' for her. Had himself laid in her little room seemed to comfort him somehow.
"Oh, my God! an' he brawk off wi' me for the likes o' she!" "Theer, theer, lass Mary, doan't 'e, doan't 'e. You've hid your tears that cunnin', but my old eyes has seen the marks this many day an' sorrered for 'e. 'Tis a hard matter viewed from the point what you looks 'pon it; but I knaws you, my awn good gal; I knaws your Saviour's done a 'mazin' deal to hold you up.
But Hank, he always thought he had been baptized reg'lar. And he never was the same afterward. He had made his life-long brags, and his pride was broke in that there one pertic'ler spot. And he sorrered and grieved over it a good 'eal, and got grouchier and grouchier and meaner and meaner, and lickered oftener, if anything. Signing the pledge couldn't hold Hank.
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