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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"

When they saw Gold-mane
anigh, they stopped, and the throng opened as if to let him into
their midmost; so he mingled with them, and they stood in a ring
about him and an old man more ill-favoured than it was the wont of
the Dalesmen to be.
For he was long, stooping, gaunt and spindle-shanked, his hands big
and crippled with gout: his cheeks were red after an old man's
fashion, covered with a crimson network like a pippin; his lips thin
and not well hiding his few teeth; his nose long like a snipe's neb.
In short, a shame and a laughing-stock to the Folk, and a man whom
the kindreds had in small esteem, and that for good reasons.
Face-of-god knew him at once for a notable close-fist and starve-all
fool of the Shepherds; and his name was now become Penny-thumb the
Lean, whatever it might once have been.
So Face-of-god greeted all men, and they him again; and he said:
'What aileth you, neighbours? Your weapons, are bare, but I see not
that they be bloody. What is it, goodman Penny-thumb?'
Penny-thumb did but groan for all answer; but a stout carle who stood
by with a broad grin on his face answered and said:
'Face-of-god, evil tidings be abroad; the strong-thieves of the wood
are astir; and some deem that the wood-wights be helping them.


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