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The Salamanca Corpus: Yeoman Fleetwood (1900 ... - Gredos

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<strong>The</strong> <strong>Salamanca</strong> <strong>Corpus</strong>: <strong>Yeoman</strong> <strong>Fleetwood</strong> (<strong>1900</strong>)<br />

And takes away the stomach, — such are the rich,<br />

That have abundance, and enjoy it not. —Shakespeare.<br />

All that day the wind raged furiously, but Simon went about his ordinary outdoor<br />

occupations in spite of the difficulty, not to say danger, attending them. Miss Belinda<br />

was much exercised in her mind because of his early expedition to Liverpool, and also<br />

because of his dreamy and preoccupied air.<br />

"If this kind of work goes on," she said to herself, "one of us '11 go silly — as like as<br />

not both. My word, my word, to think as that nice little lad should come to be such a<br />

softy now he is a man! I have more than half a mind to go and live wi' my Cousin<br />

Pringle."<br />

Though Aunt Binney had frequently held this threat over both Simon and his father, she<br />

had never so seriously thought of putting it into execution as on this particular windy<br />

morning.<br />

“At least Cousin Pringle would have a word to throw to a body now and then," she<br />

reflected, “and there would be plenty to do, helpin' her wi' the children and that; and it<br />

would hearten up a body, too, to live t'other side of Liverpool, and see folks ridin' in and<br />

out of town — still, to leave the Farm" — Miss Belinda groaned to herself,<br />

[157]<br />

shook her head, and resumed her occupation with a gloomy face.<br />

Simon was silent and queer that morning, and seemed scarce right in's head, but when<br />

all was said and done he reckoned she would know when dinner-time came round.<br />

Simon indeed was punctuality itself, and in spite of the turmoil of his thoughts, and the<br />

consequent failure of his usually healthy appetite, noon found him wending his way<br />

homewards.<br />

<strong>The</strong> path in front of him was strewn with torn leaves and fragments of branches; as he<br />

glanced over the hedge at the orchard, he sighed to see the ground beneath the trees<br />

white with fallen bloom. Here and there a riven bough barred his progress for a<br />

moment, and the air was full of the wild hurry and screaming of the wind. He was tired<br />

of the sound: he wanted breathing space to adjust the thoughts which had been pressing

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