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MARY sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table |
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Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step, |
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She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage |
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To meet him in the doorway with the news |
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And put him on his guard. “Silas is back.” |
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She pushed him outward with her through the door |
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And shut it after her. “Be kind,” she said. |
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She took the market things from Warren’s arms |
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And set them on the porch, then drew him down |
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To sit beside her on the wooden steps. |
10 |
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“When was I ever anything but kind to him? |
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But I’ll not have the fellow back,” he said. |
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“I told him so last haying, didn’t I? |
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”˜If he left then,’ I said, ”˜that ended it.’ |
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What good is he? Who else will harbour him |
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At his age for the little he can do? |
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What help he is there’s no depending on. |
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Off he goes always when I need him most. |
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”˜He thinks he ought to earn a little pay, |
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Enough at least to buy tobacco with, |
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So he won’t have to beg and be beholden.’ |
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”˜All right,’ I say, ”˜I can’t afford to pay |
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Any fixed wages, though I wish I could.’ |
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”˜Someone else can.’ ”˜Then someone else will have to.’ |
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I shouldn’t mind his bettering himself |
25 |
If that was what it was. You can be certain, |
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When he begins like that, there’s someone at him |
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Trying to coax him off with pocket-money,”” |
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In haying time, when any help is scarce. |
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In winter he comes back to us. I’m done.” |
30 |
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“Sh! not so loud: he’ll hear you,” Mary said. |
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“I want him to: he’ll have to soon or late.” |
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“He’s worn out. He’s asleep beside the stove. |
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When I came up from Rowe’s I found him here, |
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Huddled against the barn-door fast asleep, |
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A miserable sight, and frightening, too”” |
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You needn’t smile””I didn’t recognise him”” |
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I wasn’t looking for him””and he’s changed. |
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Wait till you see.” |
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“Where did you say he’d been?” |
40 |
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“He didn’t say. I dragged him to the house, |
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And gave him tea and tried to make him smoke. |
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I tried to make him talk about his travels. |
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Nothing would do: he just kept nodding off.” |
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“What did he say? Did he say anything?” |
45 |
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“But little.” |
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“Anything? Mary, confess |
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He said he’d come to ditch the meadow for me.” |
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“Warren!” |
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“But did he? I just want to know.” |
50 |
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“Of course he did. What would you have him say? |
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Surely you wouldn’t grudge the poor old man |
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Some humble way to save his self-respect. |
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He added, if you really care to know, |
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He meant to clear the upper pasture, too. |
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That sounds like something you have heard before? |
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Warren, I wish you could have heard the way |
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He jumbled everything. I stopped to look |
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Two or three times””he made me feel so queer”” |
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To see if he was talking in his sleep. |
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He ran on Harold Wilson””you remember”” |
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The boy you had in haying four years since. |
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He’s finished school, and teaching in his college. |
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Silas declares you’ll have to get him back. |
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He says they two will make a team for work: |
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Between them they will lay this farm as smooth! |
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The way he mixed that in with other things. |
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He thinks young Wilson a likely lad, though daft |
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On education””you know how they fought |
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All through July under the blazing sun, |
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Silas up on the cart to build the load, |
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Harold along beside to pitch it on.” |
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“Yes, I took care to keep well out of earshot.” |
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“Well, those days trouble Silas like a dream. |
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You wouldn’t think they would. How some things linger! |
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Harold’s young college boy’s assurance piqued him. |
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After so many years he still keeps finding |
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Good arguments he sees he might have used. |
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I sympathise. I know just how it feels |
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To think of the right thing to say too late. |
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Harold’s associated in his mind with Latin. |
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He asked me what I thought of Harold’s saying |
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He studied Latin like the violin |
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Because he liked it””that an argument! |
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He said he couldn’t make the boy believe |
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He could find water with a hazel prong”” |
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Which showed how much good school had ever done him. |
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He wanted to go over that. But most of all |
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He thinks if he could have another chance |
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To teach him how to build a load of hay””””” |
90 |
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“I know, that’s Silas’ one accomplishment. |
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He bundles every forkful in its place, |
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And tags and numbers it for future reference, |
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So he can find and easily dislodge it |
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In the unloading. Silas does that well. |
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He takes it out in bunches like big birds’ nests. |
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You never see him standing on the hay |
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He’s trying to lift, straining to lift himself.” |
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“He thinks if he could teach him that, he’d be |
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Some good perhaps to someone in the world. |
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He hates to see a boy the fool of books. |
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Poor Silas, so concerned for other folk, |
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And nothing to look backward to with pride, |
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And nothing to look forward to with hope, |
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So now and never any different.” |
105 |
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Part of a moon was falling down the west, |
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Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills. |
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Its light poured softly in her lap. She saw |
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And spread her apron to it. She put out her hand |
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Among the harp-like morning-glory strings, |
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Taut with the dew from garden bed to eaves, |
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As if she played unheard the tenderness |
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That wrought on him beside her in the night. |
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“Warren,” she said, “he has come home to die: |
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You needn’t be afraid he’ll leave you this time.” |
115 |
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“Home,” he mocked gently. |
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“Yes, what else but home? |
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It all depends on what you mean by home. |
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Of course he’s nothing to us, any more |
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Than was the hound that came a stranger to us |
120 |
Out of the woods, worn out upon the trail.” |
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“Home is the place where, when you have to go there, |
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They have to take you in.” |
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“I should have called it |
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Something you somehow haven’t to deserve.” |
125 |
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Warren leaned out and took a step or two, |
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Picked up a little stick, and brought it back |
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And broke it in his hand and tossed it by. |
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“Silas has better claim on us you think |
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Than on his brother? Thirteen little miles |
130 |
As the road winds would bring him to his door. |
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Silas has walked that far no doubt to-day. |
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Why didn’t he go there? His brother’s rich, |
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A somebody””director in the bank.” |
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“He never told us that.” |
135 |
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“We know it though.” |
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“I think his brother ought to help, of course. |
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I’ll see to that if there is need. He ought of right |
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To take him in, and might be willing to”” |
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He may be better than appearances. |
140 |
But have some pity on Silas. Do you think |
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If he’d had any pride in claiming kin |
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Or anything he looked for from his brother, |
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He’d keep so still about him all this time?” |
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“I wonder what’s between them.” |
145 |
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“I can tell you. |
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Silas is what he is””we wouldn’t mind him”” |
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But just the kind that kinsfolk can’t abide. |
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He never did a thing so very bad. |
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He don’t know why he isn’t quite as good |
150 |
As anyone. He won’t be made ashamed |
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To please his brother, worthless though he is.” |
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“I can’t think Si ever hurt anyone.” |
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“No, but he hurt my heart the way he lay |
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And rolled his old head on that sharp-edged chair-back. |
155 |
He wouldn’t let me put him on the lounge. |
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You must go in and see what you can do. |
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I made the bed up for him there to-night. |
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You’ll be surprised at him””how much he’s broken. |
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His working days are done; I’m sure of it.” |
160 |
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“I’d not be in a hurry to say that.” |
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“I haven’t been. Go, look, see for yourself. |
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But, Warren, please remember how it is: |
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He’s come to help you ditch the meadow. |
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He has a plan. You mustn’t laugh at him. |
165 |
He may not speak of it, and then he may. |
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I’ll sit and see if that small sailing cloud |
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Will hit or miss the moon.” |
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It hit the moon. |
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Then there were three there, making a dim row, |
170 |
The moon, the little silver cloud, and she. |
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Warren returned””too soon, it seemed to her, |
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Slipped to her side, caught up her hand and waited. |
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“Warren,” she questioned. |
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“Dead,” was all he answered. |
175 |
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