The Mill on the Floss George Eliot (ereader android .txt) đ
- Author: George Eliot
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It must be owned that Tom was fond of Bobâs company. How could it be otherwise? Bob knew, directly he saw a birdâs egg, whether it was a swallowâs, or a tomtitâs, or a yellowhammerâs; he found out all the waspsâ nests, and could set all sort of traps; he could climb the trees like a squirrel, and had quite a magical power of detecting hedgehogs and stoats; and he had courage to do things that were rather naughty, such as making gaps in the hedgerows, throwing stones after the sheep, and killing a cat that was wandering incognito. Such qualities in an inferior, who could always be treated with authority in spite of his superior knowingness, had necessarily a fatal fascination for Tom; and every holiday-time Maggie was sure to have days of grief because he had gone off with Bob.
Well! there was no hope for it; he was gone now, and Maggie could think of no comfort but to sit down by the hollow, or wander by the hedgerow, and fancy it was all different, refashioning her little world into just what she should like it to be.
Maggieâs was a troublous life, and this was the form in which she took her opium.
Meanwhile Tom, forgetting all about Maggie and the sting of reproach which he had left in her heart, was hurrying along with Bob, whom he had met accidentally, to the scene of a great rat-catching in a neighbouring barn. Bob knew all about this particular affair, and spoke of the sport with an enthusiasm which no one who is not either divested of all manly feeling, or pitiably ignorant of rat-catching, can fail to imagine. For a person suspected of preternatural wickedness, Bob was really not so very villanous-looking; there was even something agreeable in his snub-nosed face, with its close-curled border of red hair. But then his trousers were always rolled up at the knee, for the convenience of wading on the slightest notice; and his virtue, supposing it to exist, was undeniably âvirtue in rags,â which, on the authority even of bilious philosophers, who think all well-dressed merit overpaid, is notoriously likely to remain unrecognised (perhaps because it is seen so seldom).
âI know the chap as owns the ferrets,â said Bob, in a hoarse treble voice, as he shuffled along, keeping his blue eyes fixed on the river, like an amphibious animal who foresaw occasion for darting in. âHe lives up the Kennel Yard at Sut Oggâs, he does. Heâs the biggest rot-catcher anywhere, he is. Iâd sooner, be a rot-catcher nor anything, I would. The moles is nothing to the rots. But Lors! you mun haâ ferrets. Dogs is no good. Why, thereâs that dog, now!â Bob continued, pointing with an air of disgust toward Yap, âheâs no more good wiâ a rot nor nothinâ. I see it myself, I did, at the rot-catchinâ iâ your feytherâs barn.â
Yap, feeling the withering influence of this scorn, tucked his tail in and shrank close to Tomâs leg, who felt a little hurt for him, but had not the superhuman courage to seem behindhand with Bob in contempt for a dog who made so poor a figure.
âNo, no,â he said, âYapâs no good at sport. Iâll have regular good dogs for rats and everything, when Iâve done school.â
âHev ferrets, Measter Tom,â said Bob, eagerlyâ ââthem white ferrets wiâ pink eyes; Lors, you might catch your own rots, anâ you might put a rot in a cage wiâ a ferret, anâ see âem fight, you might. Thatâs what Iâd do, I know, anâ it âud be better fun aâmost nor seeinâ two chaps fightâ âif it wasnât them chaps as sold cakes anâ oranges at the Fair, as the things flew out oâ their baskets, anâ some oâ the cakes was smashedâ âBut they tasted just as good,â added Bob, by way of note or addendum, after a momentâs pause.
âBut, I say, Bob,â said Tom, in a tone of deliberation, âferrets are nasty biting thingsâ âtheyâll bite a fellow without being set on.â
âLors! why thatâs the beauty on âem. If a chap lays hold oâ your ferret, he wonât be long before he hollows out a good un, he wonât.â
At this moment a striking incident made the boys pause suddenly in their walk. It was the plunging of some small body in the water from among the neighbouring bulrushes; if it was not a water-rat, Bob intimated that he was ready to undergo the most unpleasant consequences.
âHoigh! Yapâ âhoigh! there he is,â said Tom, clapping his hands, as the little black snout made its arrowy course to the opposite bank. âSeize him, lad! seize him!â
Yap agitated his ears and wrinkled his brows, but declined to plunge, trying whether barking would not answer the purpose just as well.
âUgh! you coward!â said Tom, and kicked him over, feeling humiliated as a sportsman to possess so poor-spirited an animal. Bob abstained from remark and passed on, choosing, however, to walk in the shallow edge of the overflowing river by way of change.
âHeâs none so full now, the Floss isnât,â said Bob, as he kicked the water up before him, with an agreeable sense of being insolent to it. âWhy, last âear, the meadows was all one sheet oâ water, they was.â
âAy, but,â said Tom, whose mind was prone to see an opposition between statements that were really accordantâ ââbut there was a big flood
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