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Davis, Rebecca Harding, 1831-1910

"Margret Howth, a Story of To-day"

"It'd a warm place, here.
Father studies 'n his watch, 'n' I'm teacher,"--showing the torn
old spelling-book.
The old man came eagerly forward, seeing the smile flicker on
Holmes's face.
"It's slow work, Marster,--slow. But Lo's a good teacher, 'n'
I'm tryin',--I'm tryin' hard."
"It's not slow, Sir, seein' father hed n't 'dvantages, like me.
He was a"----
She stopped, lowering her voice, a hot flush of shame on her
face.
"I know."
"Be n't that'll 'xcuse, Marster, seein' I knowed noght at the
beginnin'? Thenk o' that, Marster. I'm tryin' to be a different
man. Fur Lo. I AM tryin'."
Holmes did not notice him.
"Good-night, Lois," he said, kindly, as she lighted his lamp.
He put some money on the table.
"You must take it," as she looked uneasy. "For Tiger's board,
say. I never see him now. A bright new frock, remember."
She thanked him, her eyes brightening, looking at her father's
patched coat.
The old man followed Holmes out.
"Marster Holmes"----
"Have done with this," said Holmes, sternly. "Whoever breaks law
abides by it. It is no affair of mine."
The old man clutched his hands together fiercely, struggling to
be quiet.
"Ther' 's none knows it but yoh," he said, in a smothered voice.
"Fur God's sake be merciful! It'll kill my girl,--it 'll kill
her. Gev me a chance, Marster."
"You trouble me. I must do what is just."
"It's not just," he said, savagely. "What good'll it do me to go
back ther'? I was goin' down, down, an' bringin' th' others with
me.


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