Silas Marner George Eliot (christmas read aloud .TXT) đ
- Author: George Eliot
Book online «Silas Marner George Eliot (christmas read aloud .TXT) đ». Author George Eliot
âOh, Iâll tell you, daddy,â said Eppie, clasping her hands suddenly, after a minuteâs thought. âThereâs lots oâ loose stones about, some of âem not big, and we might lay âem atop of one another, and make a wall. You and me could carry the smallest, and Aaron âud carry the restâ âI know he would.â
âEh, my precious âun,â said Silas, âthere isnât enough stones to go all round; and as for you carrying, why, wiâ your little arms you couldnât carry a stone no bigger than a turnip. Youâre dillicate made, my dear,â he added, with a tender intonationâ ââthatâs what Mrs. Winthrop says.â
âOh, Iâm stronger than you think, daddy,â said Eppie; âand if there wasnât stones enough to go all round, why theyâll go part oâ the way, and then itâll be easier to get sticks and things for the rest. See here, round the big pit, what a many stones!â
She skipped forward to the pit, meaning to lift one of the stones and exhibit her strength, but she started back in surprise.
âOh, father, just come and look here,â she exclaimedâ ââcome and see how the waterâs gone down since yesterday. Why, yesterday the pit was ever so full!â
âWell, to be sure,â said Silas, coming to her side. âWhy, thatâs the draining theyâve begun on, since harvest, iâ Mr. Osgoodâs fields, I reckon. The foreman said to me the other day, when I passed by âem, âMaster Marner,â he said, âI shouldnât wonder if we lay your bit oâ waste as dry as a bone.â It was Mr. Godfrey Cass, he said, had gone into the draining: heâd been taking these fields oâ Mr. Osgood.â
âHow odd itâll seem to have the old pit dried up!â said Eppie, turning away, and stooping to lift rather a large stone. âSee, daddy, I can carry this quite well,â she said, going along with much energy for a few steps, but presently letting it fall.
âAh, youâre fine and strong, arenât you?â said Silas, while Eppie shook her aching arms and laughed. âCome, come, let us go and sit down on the bank against the stile there, and have no more lifting. You might hurt yourself, child. Youâd need have somebody to work for youâ âand my arm isnât over strong.â
Silas uttered the last sentence slowly, as if it implied more than met the ear; and Eppie, when they sat down on the bank, nestled close to his side, and, taking hold caressingly of the arm that was not over strong, held it on her lap, while Silas puffed again dutifully at the pipe, which occupied his other arm. An ash in the hedgerow behind made a fretted screen from the sun, and threw happy playful shadows all about them.
âFather,â said Eppie, very gently, after they had been sitting in silence a little while, âif I was to be married, ought I to be married with my motherâs ring?â
Silas gave an almost imperceptible start, though the question fell in with the undercurrent of thought in his own mind, and then said, in a subdued tone, âWhy, Eppie, have you been a-thinking on it?â
âOnly this last week, father,â said Eppie, ingenuously, âsince Aaron talked to me about it.â
âAnd what did he say?â said Silas, still in the same subdued way, as if he were anxious lest he should fall into the slightest tone that was not for Eppieâs good.
âHe said he should like to be married, because he was a-going in four-and-twenty, and had got a deal of gardening work, now Mr. Mottâs given up; and he goes twice a-week regular to Mr. Cassâs, and once to Mr. Osgoodâs, and theyâre going to take him on at the Rectory.â
âAnd who is it as heâs wanting to marry?â said Silas, with rather a sad smile.
âWhy, me, to be sure, daddy,â said Eppie, with dimpling laughter, kissing her fatherâs cheek; âas if heâd want to marry anybody else!â
âAnd you mean to have him, do you?â said Silas.
âYes, some time,â said Eppie, âI donât know when. Everybodyâs married some time, Aaron says. But I told him that wasnât true: for, I said, look at fatherâ âheâs never been married.â
âNo, child,â said Silas, âyour father was a lone man till you was sent to him.â
âBut youâll never be lone again, father,â said Eppie, tenderly. âThat was what Aaron saidâ ââI could never think oâ taking you away from Master Marner, Eppie.â And I said, âIt âud be no use if you did, Aaron.â And he wants us all to live together, so as you neednât work a bit, father, only whatâs for your own pleasure; and heâd be as good as a son to youâ âthat was what he said.â
âAnd should you like that, Eppie?â said Silas, looking at her.
âI shouldnât mind it, father,â said Eppie, quite simply. âAnd I should like things to be so as you neednât work much. But if it wasnât for that, Iâd sooner things didnât change. Iâm very happy: I like Aaron to be fond of me, and come and see us often, and behave pretty to youâ âhe always does behave pretty to you, doesnât he, father?â
âYes, child, nobody could behave better,â said Silas, emphatically. âHeâs his motherâs lad.â
âBut I donât want any change,â said Eppie. âI should like to go on a long, long while, just as we are. Only Aaron does want a change; and he made me cry a bitâ âonly a bitâ âbecause he said I didnât care for him, for if I cared for him I should want us to be married, as he did.â
âEh, my blessed child,â said Silas, laying down his pipe as if it were useless to pretend to smoke
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