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Updated: May 14, 2025
Her surroundings are not favourable to the development of the "womanly" or sentimental side of nature. It must be near morning now; but the clock is in the dwellinghouse. Her candle is nearly done; she forgot that she was out of candles. Some more wood must be got to keep the fire up, and so she shuts the dog inside and hurries round to the woodheap. The rain has cleared off.
Suddenly, and for the fiftieth time, the axe flew off. The man held the handle and stared at the woodheap. Mother watched him. He removed his hats, and looked inside them. He remained looking inside them. Mother watched him more closely. His lips moved. He said, "LISTEN TO THEM! THEY'RE COMING! I KNEW THEY'D FOLLOW!" "Who?" asked Mother, trembling slightly. "Ha, ha! I've got them.
Jimmy, the water-carrier and general director of the woodheap gossip, explained that they had gone off with the camp lubras for a day's recreation; "Him knock up longa all about work," he said, with an apologetic smile. Jimmy was either apologetic or condescending.
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