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Haliburton, Thomas Chandler, 1796-1865

"The Clockmaker"

Catch him with his
go-to-meetin' clothes on, a-rubbin' agin their nasty greasy axles,
like a tarry nigger; not he, indeed, he'd stick you up with it.
"The last time I came by here, it was a little bit arter daylight
down, rainin' cats and dogs, and as dark as Egypt; so, thinks I, I'll
jist turn in here for shelter to Squire Bill Blake's. Well, I knocks
away at the front door, till I thought I'd a-split it in; but arter
a-rappin' awhile to no purpose, and findin' no one come, I gropes my
way round to the back door, and opens it, and feelin' all along the
partition for the latch of the keepin' room, without finding it, I
knocks agin, when some one from inside calls out 'Walk!' Thinks I, I
don't cleverly know whether that indicates 'walk in,' or 'walk out,'
it's plaguy short metre, that's a fact; but I'll see anyhow. Well,
arter gropin' about awhile, at last I got hold of the string and
lifted the latch and walked in, and there sot old Marm Blake, close
into one corner of the chimbley fireplace, a-see-sawin' in a rockin'
chair, and a half grown black house-help, half asleep in t'other
corner, a-scroudgin' up over the embers. 'Who be you?' said Marm
Blake, 'for I can't see you.' 'A stranger,' said I. 'Beck!' says she,
speakin' to the black heifer in the corner, 'Beck!' says she agin,
raisin' her voice, 'I believe you are as deff as a post, get up
this minit and stir the coals, till I see the man.


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