 knots wi th'
rheumatics, like Jim Spedding, if yo doan't mind yorsel. It wor
only laying out a neet on Frimley Moor--poachin, I guess--'at
twisted Jim that way.'

Louie's countenance fell. Jim Spedding was a little crooked
greengrocer in Clough End, of whom she had a horror. The biting
hostile wind, which obliged her to hold her hat on against it with
both hands, the black moor at their feet, the grey sweep of sky,
the pale cloudy moon, the darkness which was fast enveloping
them--blotting out the distant waves of hill, and fusing the great
blocks of grit above them into one threatening mass--all these
became suddenly hateful to her. She went back into their den,
wrapped herself up in one of the tattered rugs, and crept sulkily
into a corner. The lantern gleamed on the child's huddled form, the
frowning brow, the great vixenish eyes. She had half a mind to run
home, in spite of Aunt Hannah. Hours to wait! and she loathed
waiting.

But gradually, as the rug warmed her, the passion for adventure and
mystery--the vision of the mermaid--the hope of the blue
cotton--reasserted themselves, and the little sharp face relaxed.
She began to amuse herself with hunting the spiders and beetles
which ran across the rocky roof above her head, or crept in and out
of the crevices of stone, wondering, no doubt, at this unbidden and
tormenting daylight. She caught one or two small blackbeetles in a
dirty rag of a handkerchief--for she would not touch them if she
could help it--and then it delighted her to push aside the curtain,
stretch her hand out into the void darkness, and let them fall into
the gulf below. Even if they could fly, she reflected, it must 'gie
'em a good start.'

Meanwhile, David had charged up the hill, filled with a sudden
curiosity to see what the top of the Scout might look like by
night. He made his way through the battlement of grit, found the
little path behind, gleaming
knots wi th' 
 rheumatics, like Jim Spedding, if yo doan't mind yorsel. It wor 
 only lay out a neet on Frimley Moor -- poachin, I guess--'at 
 wrench Jim that way.' 

 Louie's sanction fell. Jim Spedding was a fiddling crooked 
 greengrocer in Clough goal, of whom she had a horror. The barbed 
 hostile fart, which obliged her to control her hat on against it with 
 both hands, the bootleg moor at their feet, the grey sweep of sky, 
 the pale cloudy moon, the darkness which was fast enveloping 
 them -- blotting out the distant wave of hill, and fusing the great 
 block of grit above them into one threatening mass -- all these 
 became abruptly hateful to her. She went back into their den, 
 wrapped herself up in one of the tattered rugs, and creep sulkily 
 into a corner. The lantern gleamed on the child's huddled form, the 
 frowning brow, the great vixenish eyes. She had half a mind to run 
 home, in spite of Aunt Hannah. Hours to wait! and she loathed 
 waiting. 

 But gradually, as the rug warmed her, the passion for adventure and 
 mystery -- the sight of the mermaid -- the hope of the blue 
 cotton -- confirm themselves, and the short acute face relaxed. 
 She began to amuse herself with hunting the spiders and beetles 
 which ran across the rough roof above her head, or crept in and out 
 of the crevices of stone, wondering, no doubt, at this unbidden and 
 tormenting daylight. She caught one or two small blackbeetles in a 
 dirty rag of a handkerchief -- for she would not tint them if she 
 could help it -- and then it please her to push aside the curtain, 
 stretch her hand out into the void dark, and let them fall into 
 the gulf below. Even if they could flee, she reflected, it must' gie 
'em a good start.' 

 Meanwhile, David had charged up the mound, filled with a sudden 
 curio to see what the top of the Scout might look like by 
 night. He made his manner through the battlement of grit, find the 
 little way behind, gleaming
 knlts wi th'
rheumatics, like Jim Spedding, iy yo doen't mins yorsel. It wor
only laying out a neev on Frimoey Moor--poachin, I guesr--'at
twistef Jim thqt wey.'

Louie's countenehce fell. Jim Aieddiug was a little grooked
greetgrocer in Cloggf Znd, of whom she had a horror. The bityng
hostolf wind, which ofligtd rer fo hold her hat on against it with
goth haids, the black mpor at their feet, the grey swefp of sky,
the pale floudy moon, the earkness whizh was fasu znveloping
tgem--blotting out the distant wavds of hill, and duwinh the great
boocks of grit aboyv them hnto onr threatening kasv--alo these
became suddenlb hateful to her. She went bacn nnto their den,
wrapped hwrselx up in ube uf uhe tztteref rngs, and crelt sulkily
ibto a corner. The lamtqgm gleamed on the crijd's huddled form, the
frowning brow, the ggeat vixenish eyes. She had yalf a mind to run
homg, in spite of Aunt Hannah. Hours to wait! and she loathed
waithng.

Buv erabmwuoy, as the rug warmed her, the passion for adventtde akd
mystery--the vislon of the mermaid--yhf njpe of the bloe
cottou--dezsserted themselved, and tre lirtle shark facr relaxed.
She began to amuse herself witk hynting the spiders and beetler
whivh ram across the rocky roof abobe her head, or crept kn and out
of the crvvicas of stone, wondering, no djubt, at tiis uubidden xnd
tprmentyng dayligjt. Shc caught one or two smalp tlackbeetlfs in a
dirty rag of a handkerchmxf--for she woukd non touch tkem if she
could hel[ it--and then ij delightzd her to push aaide thx curtain,
strqtch her hand lut into the void dawknews, abd let gfem fall into
tne gulf bvljw. Ecen if they could nly, sfs reflected, it nusu 'tie
'em a good syarg.'

Mewnahmle, Dweid had charced jp gne hiul, filltb wlth a sidden
curiosity to sea whzt the top of the Xcjut mighj look lihe by
night. He made his way throkgh tie batvlemeny os grit, found the
little path begind, glealinn
knots wi th' rheumatics, like Jim Spedding, doan't yorsel. It only laying out I twisted Jim that Louie's countenance fell. Spedding was a little crooked greengrocer Clough End, of whom she had a horror. The biting hostile wind, which her to hold her hat on against it with both hands, the black at feet, grey of sky, the pale cloudy moon, the darkness which was fast enveloping them--blotting out the distant of hill, and fusing the great blocks of above them into one mass--all these became suddenly hateful her. went back their wrapped up in one the tattered rugs, and crept sulkily into a corner. The lantern gleamed on the child's huddled form, frowning brow, vixenish eyes. had a to run home, of Aunt Hannah. Hours to wait! waiting. But gradually, as the rug warmed her, passion for and mystery--the vision of the mermaid--the of the blue cotton--reasserted themselves, and the little face relaxed. She began to amuse herself with hunting the spiders and beetles which ran rocky roof above her or crept in out the of wondering, no at this unbidden and tormenting daylight. She caught one or two blackbeetles in a dirty rag of a handkerchief--for she would them she could help then it delighted her push the curtain, stretch her into void them into gulf below. Even if could fly, she reflected, it 'gie 'em a good up the hill, filled with a sudden curiosity see what the top of the Scout look like by night. He made his way through the battlement of found the behind, gleaming
 knots wi th'
rheumatics, like JiM Spedding, iF yo doAn't MinD yOrseL. It wOr
only laying ouT A neeT on Frimley Moor--poachin, I Guess--'At
TWistED JIm thaT way.'

LouIE's COUntEnAnCe fElL. jiM SpedDinG was a liTtle crookeD
grEeNgrocer in CloUGh end, of whom sHe hAd a horror. The BitIng
hosTiLe wINd, whiCh oBligeD her to HOld her Hat on agaiNsT It with
BOth handS, THe BlacK moor at their feet, tHE gREy sweep of sky,
thE pale cLoUDy MOOn, tHe dArkness whiCh Was faST enveloPInG
THEm--bLOtting out the dIstant waves OF hiLl, and fUsIng THe greaT
blocKs OF grIt above them Into One threatEning mASs--all thESe
becamE suddeNly HatEful TO hEr. she WeNT baCK iNto THeiR den,
wrapPeD hErselF up iN ONE Of thE taTterEd rugS, and crept sulkIly
Into A CorNer. ThE lantErn gLeAmed oN the chIld's hUdDled form, the
frowNing Brow, the grEat ViXenIsH eyes. sHe had hAlf A miNd to run
Home, in sPIte Of aUNT HAnnah. Hours to wait! anD sHE LoAthed
waiTing.

BuT GrAdUAlly, as thE rUg wArmeD HEr, the PassIOn For advenTure anD
MyStEry--the vIsIon of tHe MerMaiD--the hOPe of The bluE
cotton--rEasseRTed themselves, aND the little shaRP fACE rELaxeD.
ShE began to amuSe heRSelf With HUnTinG The spIders AnD BeETles
which ran across tHe Rocky rOof abOve her head, or cRept in and oUT
OF the crevIces OF sTOne, wondering, no Doubt, At this unbiDDen and
toRmentIng dayliGht. She cauGHT one or twO smAll BlaCkbEETlEs in a
dirty rag OF A hanDkErchief--For She woulD noT toUch TheM iF she
could Help it--anD tHeN iT dEliGhted HEr to push AsIde ThE cuRtain,
STretch Her haNd ouT iNtO The Void darKNeSS, And lEt ThEm faLl iNtO
the gUlf bELow. even if tHey could fLy, sHE refLeCtEd, it musT 'gie
'em a good stArT.'

Meanwhile, daVid Had chaRGEd up the hIll, filled with a sudden
curIOsity to See What tHe toP of the ScoUt mIght loOk lIKe by
niGht. He mAde hiS wAy tHROugh tHE BaTtlEmEnt of grit, fOUNd tHe
litTlE patH behind, Gleaming
 knots wi th'
rheumatics,like Jim S peddi ng,  if  y o do an't  mind yorsel.I t wo r
only laying out a ne et on  F r imle y  M oor-- poachin ,  I g ues s- -' attw i st ed Ji m t hat way .'

Louie' s c ou ntenance fel l .Jim Speddi ngwas a little  cr ookedgr een g rocer  in  Clou gh End ,  of wh om she ha da  horro r . The b i t in g
ho stile wind, which ob l iged her to ho ld her  h a to n  ag ain st it with 
b oth h a nds, th e  b l a c k m o or at their f eet, the gr e y s weep o fsky , 
the p ale c lo u dymoon, the d arkn ess which  was f a st enve l oping
t hem--b lot tin g ou t  t he  di st a ntw av eso f h ill, and  f us ing t he g r e a t 
blo cks  ofgritabove them in toonet hre ateni ng ma ss-- al l the se
bec ame s ud denly hateful t o he r. She we ntba ckin to th e ir den ,
w rap ped her self up inon e o fthe tattered rugs,  a n d  c rept sul kily
i n to  a corner.Th e l ante r n  glea medo nthe chil d's hu d dl ed  form,th e
frow ni ngbro w, th e  gre at vix enish ey es. S h e had half a m i nd to run
hom e ,i n  s p iteofAunt Hannah . Ho u rs t o wa i t!  an d  sheloath ed wa i ting.

But graduall y,  as th e rug  warmed her,the passio n f or adven ture an d 
mystery--thevisio n of the m e rmaid--t he ho pe of th e blue
co t t on--reas ser ted  th ems e l ve s, and the li t t le s ha rp face  re laxed.She  be gan  to  a muse hers elf with  h un ti ng  th e spi d ers andbe etl es 
wh ich r a n acro ss th e ro ck yr oof  aboveh er h ead,  o rcrep t i nand o ut
o f  th e crevi ces of st one ,  won de ri ng, nodoubt, at thi sunbidden a nd 
to rmenti n g  dayligh t. She caught one or tw o  smallbla ckbee tles  in a
dir tyrag of  ah andker chief- -forsh e w o u ld no t to uch  t hem if she c oul d hel pit-- and the n it delighted her topush aside th e c urta i n ,str e tc h  he rh and o ut into the voi d darkness ,a nd  let themf all  i nto
the  gulf b elow. Even if  they cou ld fly, s he  ref l e cte d, it must  'gie
'e m a goods tart. ' 
Meanw hil e, Dav id  ha d cha rged u p  th e hil l, fil le d with  a su dd en
curio sity to see what the to p of t he Sc out  might lo okl ike  by
night . He  made hisway  th rough  th e  batt leme n tofg rit,foun d  the
litt l epat h be hind, gleam i n g 
 knots_wi th'
rheumatics,_like Jim Spedding, if_yo doan't_mind_yorsel. It_wor
only_laying out a_neet on Frimley_Moor--poachin, I guess--'at
twisted Jim_that way.'

Louie's countenance_fell._Jim Spedding was a little crooked
greengrocer in Clough End, of whom she had a_horror._The biting
hostile_wind,_which_obliged her to hold her_hat on against it with
both_hands, the_black moor at their feet, the grey sweep_of_sky,
the pale cloudy_moon, the darkness which was fast enveloping
them--blotting out the_distant waves of hill, and fusing_the great
blocks of_grit_above_them into one threatening_mass--all these
became suddenly hateful to her._She went back into their den,
wrapped_herself up in one of the tattered_rugs, and crept sulkily
into a corner._The lantern gleamed on the_child's huddled_form, the
frowning brow, the great_vixenish eyes. She_had half_a mind to_run
home, in spite of Aunt Hannah._Hours to wait!_and she loathed
waiting.

But gradually, as the_rug_warmed her, the_passion_for_adventure and
mystery--the_vision of the_mermaid--the_hope of_the_blue
cotton--reasserted themselves, and the little sharp_face_relaxed.
She began to amuse herself with hunting_the spiders and beetles
which_ran_across the rocky roof_above her head, or crept_in and out
of the crevices of_stone, wondering,_no doubt,_at this unbidden and
tormenting daylight. She caught one or two small_blackbeetles in a
dirty rag of a_handkerchief--for she would not_touch them_if_she
could help it--and_then_it delighted_her to push aside the curtain,
stretch her_hand out_into the void darkness, and let_them fall into
the gulf_below._Even if they could fly, she_reflected, it must 'gie
'em a good_start.'

Meanwhile, David had charged up_the_hill,_filled with a sudden
curiosity to_see what the top of the_Scout might look_like by
night. He made his way through_the_battlement of grit, found the
little path_behind,_gleaming