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Charlemont; Or, the Pride of the Village. a Tale of Kentucky by William Gilmore Simms
page 103 of 518 (19%)
he did not absolutely shake a leg himself, yet none rejoiced more
than he, when Ned Hinkley's fiddle summoned the village to this
primitive exercise.

"Now, Alfred Stevens," said he, the breakfast being over, "what
say'st thou to a visit with me among my people. Some of them know
thee already; they will all be rejoiced to see thee. I will show
thee how they live, and if thou shouldst continue to feel within
thee, the growing of that good seed whose quickening thou hast
declared to me, it will be well that thou shouldst begin early to
practise the calling which may so shortly become thine own. Here
mightest thou live a space, toiling in thy spiritual studies, until
the brethren should deem thee ripe for thy office; meanwhile, thy
knowledge of the people with whom thou livest, and their knowledge
of thee, would be matter of equal comfort and consolation, I trust,
to thee as to them."

Alfred Stevens expressed himself pleased with the arrangement.
Indeed, he desired nothing else.

"But shall we see all of them?" he demanded. The arch-hypocrite
began to fear that his curiosity would be compelled to pay a heavy
penalty to dullness.

"The flock is small," said John Cross. "A day will suffice, but I
shall remain three days in Charlemont, and some I will see to-day,
and some to-morrow, and some on the day after, which is Wednesday."

"Taken in moderate doses," murmured Stevens to himself, "one may
stand it."
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