Dinah Craik

“ I had gone over all these things without noticing that my father was awake, and that his sharp eye had observed them likewise.
"The lad works hard," said he, half to himself. "He has useful hands and a clear head." I smiled, but took no notice whatever.
Evening began to close in—less peacefully than usual—over Norton Bury; for, whenever I ventured to open the window, we heard unusual and ominous sounds abroad in the town. I trembled inwardly. But John was prudent, as well as brave: besides, "everybody knew him." Surely he was safe.
Faithfully, at supper-time, Jem entered. ”

“ The flour-mill was built on piles, in the centre of the narrow river. It was only a few steps of bridge-work to either bank. The little door was on the Norton Bury side, and was hid from the opposite shore, where the rioters had now collected. In a minute we had crept forth, and dashed out of sight, in the narrow path which had been made from the mill to the tan-yard.
"Will you take my arm? we must get on fast."
"Home?" said my father, as John led him passively along.
"No, sir, not home: they are there before you. Your life's not safe an hour—unless, indeed, you get soldiers to guard it." ”

“ God only knows what madness was in each individual heart of that concourse of poor wretches, styled "the mob," when every man took up arms, certain that there were before him but two alternatives, starving or—hanging.
The riot here was scarcely universal. Norton Bury was not a large place, and had always abundance of small-pox and fevers to keep the poor down numerically. Jem said it was chiefly about our mill and our tan-yard that the disturbance lay. ”

“ Halifax."
"Now," said John, hastily smoothing his bed, so that my father might lie down, and wrapping his cloak round me—"you must both be very still. You will likely have to spend the night here. Jem shall bring you a light and supper. You will make yourself easy, Abel Fletcher?"
"Ay." It was strange to see how decidedly, yet respectfully, John spoke, and how quietly my father answered.
"And, Phineas"—he put his arm round my shoulder in his old way—"you will take care of yourself. Are you any stronger than you used to be?" ”

“ But we cannot waste time over that matter now. Phineas, help me to persuade your father to save his property. He will not call for the aid of the law, because he is a Friend. Besides, for the same reason, it might be useless asking."
"Verily!" said my father, with a bitter and meaning smile.
"But he might get his own men to defend his property, and need not do what he is bent on doing—go to the mill himself."
"Surely," was all Abel Fletcher said, planting his oaken stick firmly, as firmly as his will, and taking his way to the river-side, in the direction of the mill. ”

“ And then she would glance at our flour-mill, where for several days a week the water-wheel was as quiet as on Sundays; for my father kept his grain locked up, waiting for what, he wisely judged, might be a worse harvest than the last. But Jael, though she said nothing, often looked at the flour-mill and shook her head. And after one market-day—when she came in rather "flustered," saying there had been a mob outside the mill, until "that young man Halifax" had gone out and spoken to them—she never once allowed me to take my rare walk under the trees in the Abbey-yard ”

“ Always excepting those children to whose blessed lot it has fallen to have the ideal realized.
In a few minutes I saw him and my father enter the tan-yard together. He was talking earnestly, and my father was listening—ay, listening- -and to John Halifax! But whatever the argument was, it failed to move him. Greatly troubled, but staunch as a rock, my old father stood, resting his lame foot on a heap of hides. I went to meet him.
"Phineas," said John, anxiously, "come and help me. No, Abel Fletcher," he added, rather proudly, in reply to a sharp, suspicious glance at us both ”

“ Other fragments of skilful handiwork, chiefly meant for machinery on a Lilliputian scale, were strewn about the floor; and on a chair, just as he had left it that morning, stood a loom, very small in size, but perfect in its neat workmanship, with a few threads already woven, making some fabric not so very unlike cloth. ”