Читать книгу Wild Life at the Land's End - John Coulson Tregarthen - Страница 7

The girl was barely a stone’s throw away when the doctor cantered up to where the Earthstopper awaited him.

“Mornin’, Andrew, another touch of rheumatism?”

“No, sir, never felt better in my life; no, tedn thet: I wanted to ask ee about Mrs Jago.”

“You’ve heard about it?”

The Earthstopper nodded assent.

“It’s all over with the poor woman, Andrew.”

... “May be ’tes best so, sir.”

“Yes, best so,” repeated the doctor, as he rode away.

Andrew overtook his grandchild near the cottage, and was following her through the open door, getting a glimpse of Vennie and her puppies on the badger skin before the turf fire, when the bells rang out a joyous peal as if to remind him of the festive day. He turned and listened: the grey tower rose above the patched roofs of the cottages, the notes struck clear through the crisp air.

A smile rose to the weather-beaten face, the lips moved, and cheerily came the words:

“Ring out your best, auld bells, for ’tes Maddern Feasten Monday.”