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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"The Cricket on the Hearth"


'Mary!' said Bertha. 'Not at the marriage!'
'I told her you would not be there, mum,' whispered Caleb. 'I
heard as much last night. But bless you,' said the little man,
taking her tenderly by both hands, 'I don't care for what they say.
I don't believe them. There an't much of me, but that little
should be torn to pieces sooner than I'd trust a word against you!'
He put his arms about her and hugged her, as a child might have
hugged one of his own dolls.
'Bertha couldn't stay at home this morning,' said Caleb. 'She was
afraid, I know, to hear the bells ring, and couldn't trust herself
to be so near them on their wedding-day. So we started in good
time, and came here. I have been thinking of what I have done,'
said Caleb, after a moment's pause; 'I have been blaming myself
till I hardly knew what to do or where to turn, for the distress of
mind I have caused her; and I've come to the conclusion that I'd
better, if you'll stay with me, mum, the while, tell her the truth.
You'll stay with me the while?' he inquired, trembling from head to
foot.


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