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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Eben Holden, a tale of the north country"

'There's a sun dog. Wouldn't wonder if
we got a snowstorm' fore night.
I was running behind the sledge and standing on the brake hooks
going downhill. He made me get in when he saw the sun dog, and
let our horse - a rat-tailed bay known as Old Doctor - go at a merry
pace.
We were awed to silence when we came in sight of Hillsborough,
with spires looming far into the sky, as it seemed to me then, and
buildings that bullied me with their big bulk, so that I had no heart
for the spending of the two shillings Uncle Eb had given me. Such
sublimity of proportion I have never seen since; and yet it was all
very small indeed. The stores had a smell about them that was like
chloroform in its effect upon me; for, once in them, I fell into a
kind of trance and had scarce sense enough to know my own mind.
The smart clerks, who generally came and asked, 'Well, young
man, what can I do for you?' I regarded with fear and suspicion. I
clung the tighter to my coin always, and said nothing, although I
saw many a trinket whose glitter went to my soul with a mighty
fascination.


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