things out of books--"

"Ay! But there are worse things in life than ever were written in
books," he answered, wearily--"things that people hide away and
are ashamed to speak of! Ay, poor wilding! Things that I've tried
to keep from you as long as possible--but--time presses, and, I
shall have to speak--"

She looked at him earnestly. Her face paled and her eyes grew dark
and wondering.

"Have I done anything wrong?" she asked.

"You? No! Not you! You are not to blame, child! But you've heard
the law set out in church on Sundays that 'The sins of the fathers
shall be visited on the children even unto the third and fourth
generation.' You've heard that?"

"Yes, Dad!"

"Ay!--and who dare say the fourth generation are to blame! Yet,
though they are guiltless, they suffer most! No just God ever made
such a law, though they say 'tis God speaking. _I_ say 'tis the
devil!"

His voice grew harsh and loud, and finding his stick near his
chair, he took hold of it and struck it against the ground to
emphasise his words.

"I say 'tis the devil!"