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diff --git a/2532-h/2532-h.htm b/2532-h/2532-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..64d9090 --- /dev/null +++ b/2532-h/2532-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,960 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Half-Brothers, by Elizabeth Gaskell</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Half-Brothers, by Elizabeth Gaskell</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Half-Brothers</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Elizabeth Gaskell</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: March, 2001 [eBook #2532]<br /> +[Most recently updated: April 26, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Price, Jennifer Lee, Alev Akman and Andy Wallace</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HALF-BROTHERS ***</div> + +<h1>The Half-Brothers</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by Elizabeth Gaskell</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p> +My mother was twice married. She never spoke of her first husband, and it is +only from other people that I have learnt what little I know about him. I +believe she was scarcely seventeen when she was married to him: and he was +barely one-and-twenty. He rented a small farm up in Cumberland, somewhere +towards the sea-coast; but he was perhaps too young and inexperienced to have +the charge of land and cattle: anyhow, his affairs did not prosper, and he fell +into ill health, and died of consumption before they had been three years man +and wife, leaving my mother a young widow of twenty, with a little child only +just able to walk, and the farm on her hands for four years more by the lease, +with half the stock on it dead, or sold off one by one to pay the more pressing +debts, and with no money to purchase more, or even to buy the provisions needed +for the small consumption of every day. There was another child coming, too; +and sad and sorry, I believe, she was to think of it. A dreary winter she must +have had in her lonesome dwelling, with never another near it for miles around; +her sister came to bear her company, and they two planned and plotted how to +make every penny they could raise go as far as possible. I can’t tell you +how it happened that my little sister, whom I never saw, came to sicken and +die; but, as if my poor mother’s cup was not full enough, only a +fortnight before Gregory was born the little girl took ill of scarlet fever, +and in a week she lay dead. My mother was, I believe, just stunned with this +last blow. My aunt has told me that she did not cry; aunt Fanny would have been +thankful if she had; but she sat holding the poor wee lassie’s hand and +looking in her pretty, pale, dead face, without so much as shedding a tear. And +it was all the same, when they had to take her away to be buried. She just +kissed the child, and sat her down in the window-seat to watch the little black +train of people (neighbours—my aunt, and one far-off cousin, who were all +the friends they could muster) go winding away amongst the snow, which had +fallen thinly over the country the night before. When my aunt came back from +the funeral, she found my mother in the same place, and as dry-eyed as ever. So +she continued until after Gregory was born; and, somehow, his coming seemed to +loosen the tears, and she cried day and night, till my aunt and the other +watcher looked at each other in dismay, and would fain have stopped her if they +had but known how. But she bade them let her alone, and not be over-anxious, +for every drop she shed eased her brain, which had been in a terrible state +before for want of the power to cry. She seemed after that to think of nothing +but her new little baby; she had hardly appeared to remember either her husband +or her little daughter that lay dead in Brigham churchyard—at least so +aunt Fanny said, but she was a great talker, and my mother was very silent by +nature, and I think aunt Fanny may have been mistaken in believing that my +mother never thought of her husband and child just because she never spoke +about them. Aunt Fanny was older than my mother, and had a way of treating her +like a child; but, for all that, she was a kind, warm-hearted creature, who +thought more of her sister’s welfare than she did of her own and it was +on her bit of money that they principally lived, and on what the two could earn +by working for the great Glasgow sewing-merchants. But by-and-by my +mother’s eye-sight began to fail. It was not that she was exactly blind, +for she could see well enough to guide herself about the house, and to do a +good deal of domestic work; but she could no longer do fine sewing and earn +money. It must have been with the heavy crying she had had in her day, for she +was but a young creature at this time, and as pretty a young woman, I have +heard people say, as any on the country side. She took it sadly to heart that +she could no longer gain anything towards the keep of herself and her child. My +aunt Fanny would fain have persuaded her that she had enough to do in managing +their cottage and minding Gregory; but my mother knew that they were pinched, +and that aunt Fanny herself had not as much to eat, even of the commonest kind +of food, as she could have done with; and as for Gregory, he was not a strong +lad, and needed, not more food—for he always had enough, whoever went +short—but better nourishment, and more flesh-meat. One day—it was +aunt Fanny who told me all this about my poor mother, long after her +death—as the sisters were sitting together, aunt Fanny working, and my +mother hushing Gregory to sleep, William Preston, who was afterwards my father, +came in. He was reckoned an old bachelor; I suppose he was long past forty, and +he was one of the wealthiest farmers thereabouts, and had known my grandfather +well, and my mother and my aunt in their more prosperous days. He sat down, and +began to twirl his hat by way of being agreeable; my aunt Fanny talked, and he +listened and looked at my mother. But he said very little, either on that +visit, or on many another that he paid before he spoke out what had been the +real purpose of his calling so often all along, and from the very first time he +came to their house. One Sunday, however, my aunt Fanny stayed away from +church, and took care of the child, and my mother went alone. When she came +back, she ran straight upstairs, without going into the kitchen to look at +Gregory or speak any word to her sister, and aunt Fanny heard her cry as if her +heart was breaking; so she went up and scolded her right well through the +bolted door, till at last she got her to open it. And then she threw herself on +my aunt’s neck, and told her that William Preston had asked her to marry +him, and had promised to take good charge of her boy, and to let him want for +nothing, neither in the way of keep nor of education, and that she had +consented. Aunt Fanny was a good deal shocked at this; for, as I have said, she +had often thought that my mother had forgotten her first husband very quickly, +and now here was proof positive of it, if she could so soon think of marrying +again. Besides as aunt Fanny used to say, she herself would have been a far +more suitable match for a man of William Preston’s age than Helen, who, +though she was a widow, had not seen her four-and-twentieth summer. However, as +aunt Fanny said, they had not asked her advice; and there was much to be said +on the other side of the question. Helen’s eyesight would never be good +for much again, and as William Preston’s wife she would never need to do +anything, if she chose to sit with her hands before her; and a boy was a great +charge to a widowed mother; and now there would be a decent steady man to see +after him. So, by-and-by, aunt Fanny seemed to take a brighter view of the +marriage than did my mother herself, who hardly ever looked up, and never +smiled after the day when she promised William Preston to be his wife. But much +as she had loved Gregory before, she seemed to love him more now. She was +continually talking to him when they were alone, though he was far too young to +understand her moaning words, or give her any comfort, except by his caresses. +</p> + +<p> +At last William Preston and she were wed; and she went to be mistress of a +well-stocked house, not above half-an-hour’s walk from where aunt Fanny +lived. I believe she did all that she could to please my father; and a more +dutiful wife, I have heard him himself say, could never have been. But she did +not love him, and he soon found it out. She loved Gregory, and she did not love +him. Perhaps, love would have come in time, if he had been patient enough to +wait; but it just turned him sour to see how her eye brightened and her colour +came at the sight of that little child, while for him who had given her so +much, she had only gentle words as cold as ice. He got to taunt her with the +difference in her manner, as if that would bring love: and he took a positive +dislike to Gregory,—he was so jealous of the ready love that always +gushed out like a spring of fresh water when he came near. He wanted her to +love him more, and perhaps that was all well and good; but he wanted her to +love her child less, and that was an evil wish. One day, he gave way to his +temper, and cursed and swore at Gregory, who had got into some mischief, as +children will; my mother made some excuse for him; my father said it was hard +enough to have to keep another man’s child, without having it perpetually +held up in its naughtiness by his wife, who ought to be always in the same mind +that he was; and so from little they got to more; and the end of it was, that +my mother took to her bed before her time, and I was born that very day. My +father was glad, and proud, and sorry, all in a breath; glad and proud that a +son was born to him; and sorry for his poor wife’s state, and to think +how his angry words had brought it on. But he was a man who liked better to be +angry than sorry, so he soon found out that it was all Gregory’s fault, +and owed him an additional grudge for having hastened my birth. He had another +grudge against him before long. My mother began to sink the day after I was +born. My father sent to Carlisle for doctors, and would have coined his +heart’s blood into gold to save her, if that could have been; but it +could not. My aunt Fanny used to say sometimes, that she thought that Helen did +not wish to live, and so just let herself die away without trying to take hold +on life; but when I questioned her, she owned that my mother did all the +doctors bade her do, with the same sort of uncomplaining patience with which +she had acted through life. One of her last requests was to have Gregory laid +in her bed by my side, and then she made him take hold of my little hand. Her +husband came in while she was looking at us so, and when he bent tenderly over +her to ask her how she felt now, and seemed to gaze on us two little +half-brothers, with a grave sort of kindness, she looked up in his face and +smiled, almost her first smile at him; and such a sweet smile! as more besides +aunt Fanny have said. In an hour she was dead. Aunt Fanny came to live with us. +It was the best thing that could be done. My father would have been glad to +return to his old mode of bachelor life, but what could he do with two little +children? He needed a woman to take care of him, and who so fitting as his +wife’s elder sister? So she had the charge of me from my birth; and for a +time I was weakly, as was but natural, and she was always beside me, night and +day watching over me, and my father nearly as anxious as she. For his land had +come down from father to son for more than three hundred years, and he would +have cared for me merely as his flesh and blood that was to inherit the land +after him. But he needed something to love, for all that, to most people, he +was a stern, hard man, and he took to me as, I fancy, he had taken to no human +being before—as he might have taken to my mother, if she had had no +former life for him to be jealous of. I loved him back again right heartily. I +loved all around me, I believe, for everybody was kind to me. After a time, I +overcame my original weakness of constitution, and was just a bonny, +strong-looking lad whom every passer-by noticed, when my father took me with +him to the nearest town. +</p> + +<p> +At home I was the darling of my aunt, the tenderly-beloved of my father, the +pet and plaything of the old domestics, the “young master” of the +farm-labourers, before whom I played many a lordly antic, assuming a sort of +authority which sat oddly enough, I doubt not, on such a baby as I was. +</p> + +<p> +Gregory was three years older than I. Aunt Fanny was always kind to him in deed +and in action, but she did not often think about him, she had fallen so +completely into the habit of being engrossed by me, from the fact of my having +come into her charge as a delicate baby. My father never got over his grudging +dislike to his stepson, who had so innocently wrestled with him for the +possession of my mother’s heart. I mistrust me, too, that my father +always considered him as the cause of my mother’s death and my early +delicacy; and utterly unreasonable as this may seem, I believe my father rather +cherished his feeling of alienation to my brother as a duty, than strove to +repress it. Yet not for the world would my father have grudged him anything +that money could purchase. That was, as it were, in the bond when he had wedded +my mother. Gregory was lumpish and loutish, awkward and ungainly, marring +whatever he meddled in, and many a hard word and sharp scolding did he get from +the people about the farm, who hardly waited till my father’s back was +turned before they rated the stepson. I am ashamed—my heart is sore to +think how I fell into the fashion of the family, and slighted my poor orphan +step-brother. I don’t think I ever scouted him, or was wilfully +ill-natured to him; but the habit of being considered in all things, and being +treated as something uncommon and superior, made me insolent in my prosperity, +and I exacted more than Gregory was always willing to grant, and then, +irritated, I sometimes repeated the disparaging words I had heard others use +with regard to him, without fully understanding their meaning. Whether he did +or not I cannot tell. I am afraid he did. He used to turn silent and +quiet—sullen and sulky, my father thought it: stupid, aunt Fanny used to +call it. But every one said he was stupid and dull, and this stupidity and +dullness grew upon him. He would sit without speaking a word, sometimes, for +hours; then my father would bid him rise and do some piece of work, maybe, +about the farm. And he would take three or four tellings before he would go. +When we were sent to school, it was all the same. He could never be made to +remember his lessons; the school-master grew weary of scolding and flogging, +and at last advised my father just to take him away, and set him to some +farm-work that might not be above his comprehension. I think he was more gloomy +and stupid than ever after this, yet he was not a cross lad; he was patient and +good-natured, and would try to do a kind turn for any one, even if they had +been scolding or cuffing him not a minute before. But very often his attempts +at kindness ended in some mischief to the very people he was trying to serve, +owing to his awkward, ungainly ways. I suppose I was a clever lad; at any rate, +I always got plenty of praise; and was, as we called it, the cock of the +school. The schoolmaster said I could learn anything I chose, but my father, +who had no great learning himself, saw little use in much for me, and took me +away betimes, and kept me with him about the farm. Gregory was made into a kind +of shepherd, receiving his training under old Adam, who was nearly past his +work. I think old Adam was almost the first person who had a good opinion of +Gregory. He stood to it that my brother had good parts, though he did not +rightly know how to bring them out; and, for knowing the bearings of the Fells, +he said he had never seen a lad like him. My father would try to bring Adam +round to speak of Gregory’s faults and shortcomings; but, instead of +that, he would praise him twice as much, as soon as he found out what was my +father’s object. +</p> + +<p> +One winter-time, when I was about sixteen, and Gregory nineteen, I was sent by +my father on an errand to a place about seven miles distant by the road, but +only about four by the Fells. He bade me return by the road, whichever way I +took in going, for the evenings closed in early, and were often thick and +misty; besides which, old Adam, now paralytic and bedridden, foretold a +downfall of snow before long. I soon got to my journey’s end, and soon +had done my business; earlier by an hour, I thought, than my father had +expected, so I took the decision of the way by which I would return into my own +hands, and set off back again over the Fells, just as the first shades of +evening began to fall. It looked dark and gloomy enough; but everything was so +still that I thought I should have plenty of time to get home before the snow +came down. Off I set at a pretty quick pace. But night came on quicker. The +right path was clear enough in the day-time, although at several points two or +three exactly similar diverged from the same place; but when there was a good +light, the traveller was guided by the sight of distant objects,—a piece +of rock,—a fall in the ground—which were quite invisible to me now. +I plucked up a brave heart, however, and took what seemed to me the right road. +It was wrong, nevertheless, and led me whither I knew not, but to some wild +boggy moor where the solitude seemed painful, intense, as if never footfall of +man had come thither to break the silence. I tried to shout—with the +dimmest possible hope of being heard—rather to reassure myself by the +sound of my own voice; but my voice came husky and short, and yet it dismayed +me; it seemed so weird and strange, in that noiseless expanse of black +darkness. Suddenly the air was filled thick with dusky flakes, my face and +hands were wet with snow. It cut me off from the slightest knowledge of where I +was, for I lost every idea of the direction from which I had come, so that I +could not even retrace my steps; it hemmed me in, thicker, thicker, with a +darkness that might be felt. The boggy soil on which I stood quaked under me if +I remained long in one place, and yet I dared not move far. All my youthful +hardiness seemed to leave me at once. I was on the point of crying, and only +very shame seemed to keep it down. To save myself from shedding tears, I +shouted—terrible, wild shouts for bare life they were. I turned sick as I +paused to listen; no answering sound came but the unfeeling echoes. Only the +noiseless, pitiless snow kept falling thicker, thicker—faster, faster! I +was growing numb and sleepy. I tried to move about, but I dared not go far, for +fear of the precipices which, I knew, abounded in certain places on the Fells. +Now and then, I stood still and shouted again; but my voice was getting choked +with tears, as I thought of the desolate helpless death I was to die, and how +little they at home, sitting round the warm, red, bright fire, wotted what was +become of me,—and how my poor father would grieve for me—it would +surely kill him—it would break his heart, poor old man! Aunt Fanny +too—was this to be the end of all her cares for me? I began to review my +life in a strange kind of vivid dream, in which the various scenes of my few +boyish years passed before me like visions. In a pang of agony, caused by such +remembrance of my short life, I gathered up my strength and called out once +more, a long, despairing, wailing cry, to which I had no hope of obtaining any +answer, save from the echoes around, dulled as the sound might be by the +thickened air. To my surprise I heard a cry—almost as long, as wild as +mine—so wild that it seemed unearthly, and I almost thought it must be +the voice of some of the mocking spirits of the Fells, about whom I had heard +so many tales. My heart suddenly began to beat fast and loud. I could not reply +for a minute or two. I nearly fancied I had lost the power of utterance. Just +at this moment a dog barked. Was it Lassie’s bark—my +brother’s collie?—an ugly enough brute, with a white, ill-looking +face, that my father always kicked whenever he saw it, partly for its own +demerits, partly because it belonged to my brother. On such occasions, Gregory +would whistle Lassie away, and go off and sit with her in some outhouse. My +father had once or twice been ashamed of himself, when the poor collie had +yowled out with the suddenness of the pain, and had relieved himself of his +self-reproach by blaming my brother, who, he said, had no notion of training a +dog, and was enough to ruin any collie in Christendom with his stupid way of +allowing them to lie by the kitchen fire. To all which Gregory would answer +nothing, nor even seem to hear, but go on looking absent and moody. +</p> + +<p> +Yes! there again! It was Lassie’s bark! Now or never! I lifted up my +voice and shouted “Lassie! Lassie! for God’s sake, Lassie!” +Another moment, and the great white-faced Lassie was curving and gambolling +with delight round my feet and legs, looking, however, up in my face with her +intelligent, apprehensive eyes, as if fearing lest I might greet her with a +blow, as I had done oftentimes before. But I cried with gladness, as I stooped +down and patted her. My mind was sharing in my body’s weakness, and I +could not reason, but I knew that help was at hand. A gray figure came more and +more distinctly out of the thick, close-pressing darkness. It was Gregory +wrapped in his maud. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Gregory!” said I, and I fell upon his neck, unable to speak +another word. He never spoke much, and made me no answer for some little time. +Then he told me we must move, we must walk for the dear life—we must find +our road home, if possible; but we must move, or we should be frozen to death. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you know the way home?” asked I. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought I did when I set out, but I am doubtful now. The snow blinds +me, and I am feared that in moving about just now, I have lost the right gait +homewards.” +</p> + +<p> +He had his shepherd’s staff with him, and by dint of plunging it before +us at every step we took—clinging close to each other, we went on safely +enough, as far as not falling down any of the steep rocks, but it was slow, +dreary work. My brother, I saw, was more guided by Lassie and the way she took +than anything else, trusting to her instinct. It was too dark to see far before +us; but he called her back continually, and noted from what quarter she +returned, and shaped our slow steps accordingly. But the tedious motion +scarcely kept my very blood from freezing. Every bone, every fibre in my body +seemed first to ache, and then to swell, and then to turn numb with the intense +cold. My brother bore it better than I, from having been more out upon the +hills. He did not speak, except to call Lassie. I strove to be brave, and not +complain; but now I felt the deadly fatal sleep stealing over me. +</p> + +<p> +“I can go no farther,” I said, in a drowsy tone. I remember I +suddenly became dogged and resolved. Sleep I would, were it only for five +minutes. If death were to be the consequence, sleep I would. Gregory stood +still. I suppose, he recognized the peculiar phase of suffering to which I had +been brought by the cold. +</p> + +<p> +“It is of no use,” said he, as if to himself. “We are no +nearer home than we were when we started, as far as I can tell. Our only chance +is in Lassie. Here! roll thee in my maud, lad, and lay thee down on this +sheltered side of this bit of rock. Creep close under it, lad, and I’ll +lie by thee, and strive to keep the warmth in us. Stay! hast gotten aught about +thee they’ll know at home?” +</p> + +<p> +I felt him unkind thus to keep me from slumber, but on his repeating the +question, I pulled out my pocket-handkerchief, of some showy pattern, which +Aunt Fanny had hemmed for me—Gregory took it, and tied it round +Lassie’s neck. +</p> + +<p> +“Hie thee, Lassie, hie thee home!” And the white-faced ill-favoured +brute was off like a shot in the darkness. Now I might lie down—now I +might sleep. In my drowsy stupor I felt that I was being tenderly covered up by +my brother; but what with I neither knew nor cared—I was too dull, too +selfish, too numb to think and reason, or I might have known that in that bleak +bare place there was nought to wrap me in, save what was taken off another. I +was glad enough when he ceased his cares and lay down by me. I took his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Thou canst not remember, lad, how we lay together thus by our dying +mother. She put thy small, wee hand in mine—I reckon she sees us now; and +belike we shall soon be with her. Anyhow, God’s will be done.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Gregory,” I muttered, and crept nearer to him for warmth. He +was talking still, and again about our mother, when I fell asleep. In an +instant—or so it seemed—there were many voices about me—many +faces hovering round me—the sweet luxury of warmth was stealing into +every part of me. I was in my own little bed at home. I am thankful to say, my +first word was “Gregory?” +</p> + +<p> +A look passed from one to another—my father’s stern old face strove +in vain to keep its sternness; his mouth quivered, his eyes filled slowly with +unwonted tears. +</p> + +<p> +“I would have given him half my land—I would have blessed him as my +son,—oh God! I would have knelt at his feet, and asked him to forgive my +hardness of heart.” +</p> + +<p> +I heard no more. A whirl came through my brain, catching me back to death. +</p> + +<p> +I came slowly to my consciousness, weeks afterwards. My father’s hair was +white when I recovered, and his hands shook as he looked into my face. +</p> + +<p> +We spoke no more of Gregory. We could not speak of him; but he was strangely in +our thoughts. Lassie came and went with never a word of blame; nay, my father +would try to stroke her, but she shrank away; and he, as if reproved by the +poor dumb beast, would sigh, and be silent and abstracted for a time. +</p> + +<p> +Aunt Fanny—always a talker—told me all. How, on that fatal night, +my father,—irritated by my prolonged absence, and probably more anxious +than he cared to show, had been fierce and imperious, even beyond his wont, to +Gregory; had upbraided him with his father’s poverty, his own stupidity +which made his services good for nothing—for so, in spite of the old +shepherd, my father always chose to consider them. At last, Gregory had risen +up, and whistled Lassie out with him—poor Lassie, crouching underneath +his chair for fear of a kick or a blow. Some time before, there had been some +talk between my father and my aunt respecting my return; and when aunt Fanny +told me all this, she said she fancied that Gregory might have noticed the +coming storm, and gone out silently to meet me. Three hours afterwards, when +all were running about in wild alarm, not knowing whither to go in search of +me—not even missing Gregory, or heeding his absence, poor +fellow—poor, poor fellow!—Lassie came home, with my handkerchief +tied round her neck. They knew and understood, and the whole strength of the +farm was turned out to follow her, with wraps, and blankets, and brandy, and +every thing that could be thought of. I lay in chilly sleep, but still alive, +beneath the rock that Lassie guided them to. I was covered over with my +brother’s plaid, and his thick shepherd’s coat was carefully +wrapped round my feet. He was in his shirt-sleeves—his arm thrown over +me—a quiet smile (he had hardly ever smiled in life) upon his still, cold +face. +</p> + +<p> +My father’s last words were, “God forgive me my hardness of heart +towards the fatherless child!” +</p> + +<p> +And what marked the depth of his feeling of repentance, perhaps more than all, +considering the passionate love he bore my mother, was this: we found a paper +of directions after his death, in which he desired that he might lie at the +foot of the grave, in which, by his desire, poor Gregory had been laid with OUR +MOTHER. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HALF-BROTHERS ***</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This file should be named 2532-h.htm or 2532-h.zip</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/3/2532/</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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