Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor

ing of hares in the snow, or the training of a sheep-dog. Oftentimes I looked at his gun, an ancient piece found in the sea, a little below Glenthorne, and of which he was mighty

my own perhaps, till John Fry took it down one day from the hooks where father's h

ngdom come, 'stead of gooin' herzel zo aisy. And a maight have been gooin' to market now, 'stead of laying banked up over yanner. Mais

nking of little Annie. I cough sometimes in the winter-weather, and father

n't fit to putt un to thy zhoulde

ow about it. Get out of the way, John; you are op

ad heard my father say that the Spanish gun kicked like a horse, and because the load in it came from his hand, and I did not like to undo it. But I never found it kick very hard, and firmly set to the shoulder, unless it was badly loaded. In truth, the thickness of the metal was enough almost to astonish one; and what our people said about it may have been true enough, although

stalk to it. Perhaps for a boy there is nothing better than a good windmill to shoot at, as I have seen them in flat countries; but we have no windmills upon the great moorland, yet here and there a few barn-doors, where shelte

tle church through our best barn-door, a thing which has often repented me since, especially as ch

ut the fowls would take no notice of it, except to cluck for barley; and the maidens, though they had liked him well, were thinking of their sweethearts as the spring came on. Mother thought it wrong of them, selfish and ungrateful; and yet sometimes she was proud that none had such call as herself to grieve for him. Only Annie seemed to go softly in and out,

ctice against his enemies. I had never fired a shot without thinking, 'This for father's murderer'; and John Fry said that I made such faces it was a wonder the

e, and almost ready to say (as now she did seven times in a week), 'How like your father you are

while I am alive to give thee one. But

I will tell you afterwards. If I tell not it will b

ore years of age at least. Give me a little ki

n God puts any strength in them. But now I wanted the powder so much that I went an

ightened of that road now, as if all the trees were murderers, and would never let me go alone so much as a hundred yards on it. And, to tell the truth, I was touched with fear for many years about it; and even now, when I ride at dark there, a man by a peat-rick makes me shiver, until I go and collar him. But

n Fry's blunderbuss. Now Timothy Pooke was a peaceful man, glad to live without any enjoyment of mind at danger, and I was tall and large already as most lads of a riper age. Mr. Pooke, as soon as he opened his eyes, dropped suddenly under the

u of this good flint-engine, which may be borne ten miles or more and never once go off, scarcely couldst thou seem more scared. I might point at thee muzzle on-just so as I do now-even

on't 'e, for good love now, don't 'e show it to me, boy, as if I was to suck it. Pu

l unkindled as they were: 'Ho! as if I had not attained to the handling of a gun yet! My hands are cold coming

so cheap before nor since. For my shilling Master Pooke afforded me two great packages over-large to go into my pockets, as well as a mighty chunk of lead, which I bound upon Pe

id that saddles were meant for men full-grown and heavy, and losing their activity; and no boy or young man on our farm durst ever get into a saddle, because they all knew that the master would chuck them out pretty quickly. As for me, I had tried it once, from a kind of curiosity; and I could not walk for two or three days, the leather galled my knees so. But now, as Peggy bore me bravely, snorting every now and then into a cloud of air, for the night was growing frosty, presently the moon arose over the shoulder of a hill, and the pony an

moment supper was over; 'and if you can hold

ced of it by reason of my denial. Not that Betty Muxworthy, or any one else, for that matter, ever found me in a falsehood, because I never told one, not even to my mother-or, which is still a stronger thing, not even to my sweetheart (when I grew

istress Annie,' as she always called her, and draw the soft hair down her hands, and whisper into the little ears. Meanwhile, dear mother

the ladle for melting of the lead; 'will you come at once, Ann

a pot of brewis, and scarce knows a tongue from a ham, John, and says it makes no difference, bec

ry marning a'most, never to lead me astray so. Men is desaving and so is galanies; but the most desaving of all is books, with their heads and

ing honest folk just as do the conjurers. And even to see the parson and clerk was not enough to convince her; all she said was, 'It made no odds, they were all the same as the rest of us.' And now that she had been on the farm nigh upon forty years, and had nursed my fath

had such pretty ways and manners, and such a look of kindness, and a sweet soft light in her long blue eyes full of trustful gladness. Everybody who looked at her seemed to grow the better for it, because she knew no evil. And then the turn she had for