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Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan, 1814-1873

"Uncle Silas A Tale of Bartram-Haugh"


'Sometimes, when the curate calls, he has me up--for he's as religious as
six, he is--and they read Bible and prays, ho--don't they? You'll have
that, lass, like me, to go through; and maybe I don't hate it; oh, no!'
We breakfasted in a small room, almost a closet, off the great parlour,
which was evidently quite disused. Nothing could be homelier than our
equipage, or more shabby than the furniture of the little apartment. Still,
somehow, I liked it. It was a total change; but one likes 'roughing it' a
little at first.


CHAPTER XXXIII
_THE WINDMILL WOOD_

I had not time to explore this noble old house as my curiosity prompted;
for Milly was in such a fuss to set out for the 'blackberry dell' that I
saw little more than just so much as I necessarily traversed in making my
way to and from my room.
The actual decay of the house had been prevented by my dear father; and
the roof, windows, masonry, and carpentry had all been kept in repair.
But short of indications of actual ruin, there are many manifestations of
poverty and neglect which impress with a feeling of desolation.


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