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Updated: June 23, 2025
Father Cruse, in full vestments, was officiating. He was before the altar at the moment, his back to the congregation.
Cruse, for he welcomed us most cordially, and cooked us a truly maritime supper of many things he had taken from the sea. When darkness came, and the winds were howling about us, he piled in his open fireplace pieces of the wrecks of unfortunate vessels which had foundered on the coast, and had cast up their frames and plankings on the beach near his door.
Cleary picked up is my wife; and I will come into mine" here his eyes flashed "if he has dragged her down and " Father Cruse again laid his quieting fingers this time on Felix's wrist. "He has not dragged her down, Mr. O'Day. Of that you may be sure. A woman of her class doesn't go to pieces in a year.
They were too far off, and spoke too low, for Otto to catch the drift of the talk, and it was only when Felix, who had followed the priest outside the door, had returned that he called, from his high seat under the gas-jet: "Vell, vat did Father Cruse say?" Felix drew his brows together. "Say about what?" he asked, as if the question had surprised him. "About Beesving. Didn't you ask him?"
But in the copious will the revelling imagination of your host the "mind, the mind, Master Shallow," whole beeves were spread before you hecatombs no end appeared to the profusion. It was the widow's cruse the loaves and fishes; carving could not lessen nor helping diminish it the stamina were left the elemental bone still flourished, divested of its accidents.
To this was occasionally added a refreshment, which I have seen elsewhere only at Sunday-school picnics, a mild tap of slightly sweetened water, which tasted as if lemons had formerly been kept in the pail it was made in; only for Sunday-schools they make it strong at the outset, and add water during the hymns, with a vague but praiseworthy expectation that, in view of the sacredness of the occasion, there will be some miraculous interposition, as in the case of the widow's cruse, to keep the beverage up to proof; while Miss Moodle's liquor preserved throughout the evening a weakness of which generous natures scorned to take advantage beyond the first tumbler.
Then, as a jagged thread of light breaks away from a centre bolt, illuminating a distant cloud, a faint ray cheered him. Perhaps the woman was not Barbara. No one had any proof. Father Cruse had never believed it, and he had only argued himself into thinking that the woman who had dropped the sleeve-link must be his wife.
Always cheerfully "full of company," as they said, it was the sort of house where a carpet-dance could be arranged in half an hour; a house with a sideboard like the widow's cruse; the young men always found more. Mrs. Bareaud, a Southerner, loving to persuade the visitor that her home was his, not hers, lived only for her art, which was that of the table.
She had been Virginia Grey, and scarce had had a gown to her back when she had married the elderly Duncan Hayden, who had built her this house and presented her with a checkbook, a check-book which Virginia believed to be like the widow's cruse of oil-unfailing.
But the old squire had plenty of good hunters in the stables, and haunches on the board, and a cellar that was like the widow's cruse of oil, or barrel of meal or whatever she had. All the old man had to do to lose a guinea was to lay it on a card. He never nicked in his life, so they say. Well, young George got after a rich tea-merchant's daughter who had come into the country near by.
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