[The History of David Grieve by Mrs. Humphry Ward]@TWC D-Link book
The History of David Grieve

CHAPTER IV
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I conno say they feature ony of _yor_ belongins, Reuben.' And she went to put Louie on the settle by the fire.

But as the tall woman in black approached her, the child hit out madly with her small fists and burst into a loud howl of crying.
'Get away, nasty woman! _Nasty_ woman--ugly woman! Take me away--I want my daddy,--I want my daddy.' And she threw herself kicking on the floor, while, to Hannah's exasperation, a piece of crumbling bun she had been holding tight in her sticky little hand escaped and littered all the new-washed stones.
'Tak yor niece oop, Reuben, an mak her behave'-- the mistress of the house commanded angrily.

'She'll want a stick takken to her, soon, _I_ can see.' Reuben obeyed so far as he could, but Louie's shrieks only ceased when, by the combined efforts of husband and wife, she had been put to bed, so exhausted with rage, excitement, and the journey, that sleep mercifully took possession of her just after she had performed the crowning feat of knocking the tea and bread and butter Reuben brought her out of her uncle's hand and all over the room.
Meanwhile, David sat perfectly still in a chair against the wall, beside the old clock, and stared about him; at the hams and bunches of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling; at the chiffonnier, with its red baize doors under a brass trellis-work; at the high wooden settle, the framed funeral cards, and the two or three coloured prints, now brown with age, which Reuben had hung up twenty years before, to celebrate his marriage.

Hannah was propitiated by the boy's silence, and as she got supper ready she once or twice noticed his fine black eyes and his curly hair.
'Yo can coom an get yor supper,' she said to him, more graciously than she had spoken yet.

'It's a mussy yo doant goo skrikin like your sister.' 'Thank you, ma'am,' said the little fellow, with a townsman's politeness, hardly understanding, however, a word of her north-country dialect--' I'm not hungry .-- You've got a picture of General Washington there, ma'am;' and, raising a small hand trembling with nervousness and fatigue, he pointed to one of the prints opposite.
'Wal, I niver,' said Hannah, with a stare of astonishment.


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