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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 138 pages of information about The Herd Boy and His Hermit.

Mother Doll’s exclamations of pity were profuse.  There was a kettle of broth on the peat fire, and after placing the girl in a corner of the settle, she filled three wooden bowls, two of which she placed before Hal and the shepherd, making signs to the heavy-browed Piers to wait; and getting no reply from her worn-out guest, she took her in her arms, and fed her from a wooden spoon.  Though without clear waking, mouthfuls were swallowed down, till the bowl was filled again and set before Piers.

‘There, that will be enough this day!’ said the good dame.  ’Poor bairn!  ’Twas scurvy treatment.  Now will we put her to bed, and in the morn we will see how to deal with her.’

Hal insisted that the little lady should have his own bed—­a chaff-stuffed mattress, covered with a woollen rug, in the recess behind the projecting hearth—­a strange luxury for a farm boy; and Doll yielded very unwillingly when he spoke in a tone that savoured of command.  The shaggy Piers had already curled himself up in a corner and gone to sleep.

CHAPTER II.  THE SNOW-STORM

Yet stay, fair lady, rest awhile
Beneath the cottage wall;
See, through the hawthorns blows the cold wind,
And drizzling rain doth fall.—­Old ballad.

Though Hal had gone to sleep very tired the night before, and only on a pile of hay, curled up with Watch, having yielded his own bed to the strange guest, he was awake before the sun, for it was the decline of the year, and the dawn was not early.

He was not the first awake—­Hob and Piers were already busy on the outside, and Mother Doll had emerged from the box bed which made almost a separate apartment, and was raking together the peat, so as to revive the slumbering fire.  The hovel, for it was hardly more, was built of rough stone and thatched with reeds, with large stones to keep the roof down in the high mountain blasts.  There was only one room, earthen floored, and with no furniture save a big chest, a rude table, a settle and a few stools, besides the big kettle and a few crocks and wooden bowls.  Yet whereas all was clean, it had an air of comfort and civilisation beyond any of the cabins in the neighbourhood, more especially as there was even a rude chimney-piece projecting far into the room, and in the niche behind this lay the little girl in her clothes, fast asleep.

Very young and childish she looked as she lay, her lips partly unclosed, her dark hair straying beyond her hand, and her black lashes resting on her delicate brunette cheeks, slightly flushed with sleep.  Hal could not help standing for a minute gazing at her in a sort of wondering curiosity, till roused by the voice of Mother Doll.

’Go thy ways, my bairn, to wash in the burn.  Here’s thy comb.  I must have the lassie up before the shepherd comes back, though ’tis amost a pity to wake her!  There, she is stirring!  Best be off with thee, my bonnie lad.’

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