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mourner who is not a relation. It seemed surprising that Ben Winthrop, who loved his quart-pot and his joke, got along so well with Dolly; but she took her husbands jokes and joviality as patiently as everything else, considering that men would be so, and viewing the stronger sex in the light of animals whom it had pleased Heaven to make naturally troublesome, like bulls and turkey-cocks. This good wholesome woman could hardly fail to have her mind drawn strongly towards Silas Marner, now that he appeared in the light of a sufferer; and one Sunday afternoon she took her little boy Aaron with her, and went to call on Silas, carrying in her hand some small lard-cakesflat paste-like articles much esteemed in Raveloe. Aaron, an apple-cheeked youngster of seven, with a clean starched frill which looked like a plate for the apples, needed all his adventurous curiosity to embolden him against the possibility that the big-eyed weaver might do him some bodily injury; and his dubiety was much increased when, on arriving at the Stone-pits, they heard the mysterious sound of the loom. Ah, it is as I thought, said Mrs. Winthrop sadly. They had to knock loudly before Silas heard them; but when he did come to the door he showed no impatience, as he would once have done, at a visit that had been unasked for and unexpected. Formerly his heart had been as a locked casket with its treasure inside; but now the casket was empty and the lock was broken. Left groping in darkness, with his prop utterly gone, Silas had inevitably a sense, though a dull and half-despairing one, that if any help came to him it must come from without; and there was a slight stirring of expectation at the sight of his fellow-men, a faint consciousness of dependence on their good will. He opened the door wide to admit Dolly, but without otherwise returning her greeting than by moving the armchair a few inches as a sign that she was to sit down in it. Dolly, as soon as she was seated, removed the white cloth that covered her lard-cakes, and said in her gravest way, Id a baking yisterday, Master Marner, and the lard-cakes turned out better nor common; and Id ha asked you to accept some, if youd thought well. I dont eat such things myself, for a bit o breads what I like from one years end to the other; but mens stomichs are made so comical they want a changethey do, I know, God help em. Dolly sighed gently as she held out the cakes to Silas, who thanked her kindly and looked very close at them, absently, being accustomed to look so at everything he took into his handeyed all the while by the wondering bright orbs of the small Aaron, who had made an outwork of his mothers chair, and was peeping round from behind it. Theres letters pricked on em, said Dolly. I cant read em myself, and theres nobody, not Mr. Macey himself, rightly knows what they mean; but theyve a good meaning, for theyre the same as is on the pulpitcloth at church.What are they, Aaron, my dear? Aaron retreated completely behind his outwork. Oh go; thats naughty, said his mother mildly. Well, whativer the letters are, theyve a good meaning; and its a stamp as has been in our house, Ben says, ever since he was a little un, and his mother used to put it on the cakes, and Ive allays put it on too; for if theres any good, weve need of it i this world. Its I. H. S., said Silas, at which proof of learning Aaron peeped round the chair again. Well, to be sure, you can read em off, said Dolly. Bens read em to me many and many a time, but they slip out o my mind again; the mores the pity, for theyre good letters, else they wouldnt be in the church. And so I prick em on all the loaves and all the cakes, though sometimes they wont hold, because o the risingfor, as I said, if theres any good to be got weve need of it i this world, that we have. And I hope theyll bring good to you, Master Marner, for its wi that will I brought you the cakes; and you see the letters have held better nor common. |
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