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The Cricket on the Hearth | Charles Dickens | |
I - Chirp the First |
Page 9 of 18 |
The Cricket, too, had stopped. Somehow the room was not so cheerful as it had been. Nothing like it. 'So, these are all the parcels, are they, John?' she said, breaking a long silence, which the honest Carrier had devoted to the practical illustration of one part of his favourite sentiment - certainly enjoying what he ate, if it couldn't be admitted that he ate but little. 'So, these are all the parcels; are they, John?' 'That's all,' said John. 'Why - no - I - ' laying down his knife and fork, and taking a long breath. 'I declare - I've clean forgotten the old gentleman!' 'The old gentleman?' 'In the cart,' said John. 'He was asleep, among the straw, the last time I saw him. I've very nearly remembered him, twice, since I came in; but he went out of my head again. Holloa! Yahip there! Rouse up! That's my hearty!' John said these latter words outside the door, whither he had hurried with the candle in his hand. |
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The Cricket on the Hearth Charles Dickens |
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