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Page 34
"Are you sleepy Sophy?"
"Oh, dear, no! Go on."
Next morning Joe took the bags, and started for Ske�l-Hill. It was
another hot morning; and he hadn't gone far till he began to think
that he was as great a fool as the jolly-jist to carry broken
stones to Ske�l-Hill, when he could find plenty on any road-side
close to the place he was going to. So he shook them out of the
bags, and stepped on a gay bit lighter without them. When he got
near to Ske�l-Hill he found old Abraham Atchisson sitting on a
stool, breaking stones to mend roads with; and Joe asked him if he
could fill his leather bags from his heap. Abraham told Joe to take
them that wasn't broken if he wanted stones; so Joe told him how it
was, and all about it. The old man was like to tottle off his stool
with laughing, and he said, "Joe take good care of thysen'; thou
art over sharp to live very long in this world; fill thy bags, and
make on with thee."
"Don't you remember old Abraham, Sophy? He built the stone dyke at the
lower fold."
"No, I do not remember, I think."
"You are getting sleepy. Shall I stop?"
"No, no; finish the letter."
When Joe got to Ske�l-Hill, the jolly-jist had just got his
breakfast, and they took Joe into the parlor to him. He laughed all
over when Joe went in with the bags, and told him to set them down
in a corner, and asked him if he would have some breakfast. Joe had
had his porridge, but he said he didn't mind; so he told them to
bring in some more coffee and eggs, and ham and toasted bread; and
Joe got such a breakfast as isn't common with him, while the old
gentleman was getting himself ready to go off in a carriage that
was waiting at the door for him. When he came down-stairs he gave
Joe another five shillings, and paid for Joe's breakfast, and for
what he had eaten himself. Then he told him to put the leather bags
beside the driver's feet, and into the carriage he got, and
laughed, and nodded, and away he went; and then Joe heard them say
he was Professor Sedgwick, a great jolly-jist. And Joe thinks it
would be a famous job if father could sell all of the stones on our
fell at five shillings a bagful, and a breakfast at odd times. And
would it not be so, Miss Sandal? But I'm not easy in my mind about
Joe changing the stones; though, as Joe says, one make of stone is
about the same as another.
"Sophia, you are sleepy now."
"Yes, a little. You can finish to-morrow."
Then she laid down the simple letter, and sat very still for a little
while. Her heart was busy. There is a solitary place that girdles our
life into which it is good to enter at the close of every day. There we
may sit still with our own soul, and commune with it; and out of its
peace pass easily into the shadowy kingdom of sleep, and find a little
space of rest prepared. So Charlotte sat in quiet meditation until
Sophia was fathoms deep below the tide of life. Sight, speech, feeling,
where were they gone? Ah! when the door is closed, and the windows
darkened, who can tell what passes in the solemn temple of mortality?
Are we unvisited then? Unfriended? Uncounselled?
"Behold!
The solemn spaces of the night are thronged
By bands of tender dreams, that come and go
Over the land and sea; they glide at will
Through all the dim, strange realms of men asleep,
And visit every soul."
CHAPTER VI.
THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS.
"Still to ourselves in every place consigned.
Our own felicity we make or find."
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