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Sherwood, Mary Martha, Mrs., 1775-1851

"Shanty the Blacksmith; a Tale of Other Times"


Can you not trust her? See you not the fair guise in which she comes?
Can you suspect a creature who looks like your wife, like Rachel? Is not
her tale well framed; and are you, or are you not deceived by her fair
seemings? She is the daughter of a beggar, and she knows herself to be
such; and there is no doubt but that she has her ends to answer by
giving this alarm."
The old man had arisen; he looked hither and thither; he felt for his
keys, which were hanging at his girdle; and then, falling back into his
chair, he uttered one deep groan and became insensible, his whole
complexion turning to a livid paleness.
"He is dying!" exclaimed Tamar, holding him up in his chair, from which
he would have otherwise fallen. "He is dying, the poor old man is dying;
bring water, anything."
"He has often been in this way since he came here," replied Rebecca. "We
have thought that he has had a stroke; he is not the man he was a few
months since; and had I known how it would be, it is strange but I would
have found means to hinder his coming."
"If he were ever so before," said Tamar "why did you work him up, and
talk to him, as you did, about his daughter; but, fetch some water,"
she added.
"I shall not leave him with you," answered Rebecca.


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