John Halifax, Gentleman by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
page 28 of 763 (03%)
page 28 of 763 (03%)
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My father sat down beside me on the bench--pushed aside an intrusive branch of clematis--finally, because it would come back and tickle his bald pate, broke it off, and threw it into the river: then, leaning on his stick with both hands, eyed John Halifax sharply, all over, from top to toe. "Didn't thee say thee wanted work? It looks rather like it." His glance upon the shabby clothes made the boy colour violently. "Oh, thee need'st not be ashamed; better men than thee have been in rags. Hast thee any money?" "The groat you gave, that is, paid me; I never take what I don't earn," said the lad, sticking a hand in either poor empty pocket. "Don't be afraid--I was not going to give thee anything--except, maybe--Would thee like some work?" "O sir!" "O father!" I hardly know which was the most grateful cry. Abel Fletcher looked surprised, but on the whole not ill-pleased. Putting on and pulling down his broad-brimmed hat, he sat meditatively for a minute or so; making circles in the gravel walk with the end of his stick. People said--nay, Jael herself, once, in |
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