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Jackson, Helen Hunt, 1830-1885

"Ramona"

"He was showing it to me the other day. That
will, it may be, save you there. But do not trust to it, son. Buy
yourself a piece of land as the white man buys his. Trust to
nothing."
Alessandro looked anxiously in the Father's face. "How is that,
Father?" he said. "I do not know."
"Well, their rules be thick as the crabs here on the beach," replied
Father Gaspara; "and, faith, they appear to me to be backwards of
motion also, like the crabs: but the lawyers understand. When you
have picked out your land, and have the money, come to me, and I
will go with you and see that you are not cheated in the buying, so
far as I can tell; but I myself am at my wit's ends with their
devices. Farewell, son! Farewell, daughter!" he said, rising from
his chair. Hunger was again getting the better of sympathy in
Father Gaspara, and as he sat down to his long-deferred supper, the
Indian couple faded from his mind; but after supper was over, as
he sat smoking his pipe on the veranda, they returned again, and
lingered in his thoughts,-- lingered strangely, it seemed to him; he
could not shake off the impression that there was something
unusual about the woman.


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