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Morris, William, 1834-1896

"The Roots of the Mountains; Wherein Is Told Somewhat of the Lives of the Men of Burgdale"


Said Wild-wearer: 'This is good for to-morrow, not for to-day; the
meat is well-nigh on the board.'
Then Gold-mane smiled, for he called to mind his home-coming of
yesterday. But the woman said:
'The fault is not mine; she told me of the coming guest but three
hours agone.'
'Ay?' said Wild-wearer, 'she looked for a guest then?'
'Yea, certes,' said the woman, 'else why went I forth this afternoon,
as wearied as I was with yesterday?'
'Well, well,' said Wild-wearer, 'get to thy due work or go play; I
meddle not with meat! and for thee all jests are as bitter earnest.'
'And with thee, chief,' she said, 'it is no otherwise; surely I am
made on thy model.'
'Thy tongue is longer, friend,' said he; 'now tarry if thou wilt, and
if the supper's service craveth thee not.'
She turned away with one keen look at Face-of-god, and departed
through the door at the lower end of the hall.
By this time the hall was dusk, for there were no candles there, and
the hearth-fire was but smouldering. Wild-wearer sat silent and
musing now, and Face-of-god spake not, for he was deep in wild and
happy dreams.


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