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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"The Girl at Cobhurst"

Sometimes she's one and sometimes t'other. And then there's he. Why
didn't he marry and settle before he took a house to himself? And in the
two Sundays I've been here, nather of thim's been to church. If they
knowed what was becomin' to thim, they'd behave like Christians, if they
are heretics."
Mike sat at a little table in the corner of the kitchen with his back to
Molly, eating his supper. He had enough of the Southern negro in him to
make him dislike to eat with white people or to turn his face toward
anybody while partaking of his meals. But he also had enough of a son of
Erin in him to make him willing to talk whenever he had a chance. Turning
his head a little, he asked, "Now look a here, Molly; if a man's a
heretic, how can he be a Christian?"
"There's two kinds of heretics," said Molly, filling her great tea-cup
for the fourth time, and holding the teapot so that the last drop of the
strong decoction should trickle into the cup; "Christian heretics and
haythen heretics. You're one of the last koind yoursilf, Mike, for you
never go nigh a church, except to whitewash the walls of it.


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