Read THE CINDER PATH for Free Online

keep off the heathen Scots from
    attacking the church and the little village beyond.
    He had been christened in the church of
    Saint Bartholomew, and as a lad on his halfday
    off a fortnight, he had liked to walk that way. He
    had only once been more than twenty miles from the
    farm in his life. That was a day long ago when as a
    young lad he had gone with the drovers into Newcastle.
    In his young days they could go all year round and not
    see a strange soul, but things were different now. In
    the summer strangers came tramping over the hills
    with packs on their backs, boots on their feet with
    soles thicker than clogs, and wearing strange
    hats, and they sometimes stopped at a
    cottage door and asked for a drink of water.
    Just this summer a young fellow had put his head through the open door there and said quite friendly like, "Anybody at home?" Polly had given him a cup of
    buttermilk, which he hadn't liked very much, and it had made her laugh. She and the young fellow had stood
    talking for a long while and it had worried him
    somewhat, because it had brought home to him the fact that his Polly was no longer a little lass. She'd soon be
    a young woman, fourteen in November, she'd be.
    She had brought him luck because, before her, they had
    buried five, but from when she came there was one each
    year for the next
    four years and they all lived. Maggie, Mick,
    Peter, and Flo, they were all past the danger age
    now. Flo, the youngest, was nine.
    He turned his gaze towards the window. There had
    been no more bairns since Flo; there had been no
    more nothing since Flo, for it was at that time that palsy attacked his legs, and as disasters never come singly he took the consumption. He marvelled at times that he
    had lasted so long, but he wouldn't have if it hadn't
    been for Polly.
    His head jerked and he opened his eyes and stared up
    into his daughter's face.
    "I must have been no.in" off."
    "Aye." She punched gently at the pillow to the side of his head. "It does you good to sleep. Would you like a drink?"
    "Aye, lass; it does you good to sleep." He
    caught hold of her hand now and stared into her eyes as he said, "I'll soon be takin' a long sleep.
    You know that, don't you?"
    "Aw, Dad, don't. Don't!" She tugged
    her hand from his and her whole body wriggled in
    protest. "Don't talk like that, it upsets me, you
    could live for years. Looked after proper, you could
    live for years, an' I'll look after you."
    "All right, all right, don't frasfa yourself.
    It's as you say, I could live for years, so it's
    up to you to keep me goin', eh. ... There, now, there
    now, don't start bubblin'. Aw, lass"- he again
    had hold of her hand-"there's nobody like you in the wide world. By! some fella's gona get a
    prize some day."
    "Prize, huh!" She gave a broken laugh
    now. "Surprise you mean, when he finds out he's
    got a quick-tempered bitch on his hands."
    "He'll admire you for your spunk. An' you've
    got spunk. By! aye!"-he moved her
    hand up and down as if shaking it-"you have that. You've got more spunk in your little finger than the other five put together."
    "Oh, our Arthur's got spunk, Da; he'll
    let nobody tread on him, will our Arthur."
    "Aye." He released her hand now and his fingers plucked at the patchwork quilt on the bed as he
    said, "But there's spunk and spunk, lass. Don't
    be deceived by those who shout the loudest. It's often the quiet ones who show up the best. It's a funny
    thing you know, but fear breeds spunk. Aye, it
    does. I, myself, thought I hadn't much spunk
    until I was frightened, and then I stood me ground.
    You're like me"-his eyes lifted to her again-"you'll always stand your ground.
    Not"-he nodded at her now smiling- uthat you can be classed as a quiet one, not if me ears tell me
    aright."
    "Go on with you, our Da! Go on$13 She
    flapped her hands at him, then turned from him,
    saying, "If I have any more of your old lip I'll
    dock your drink."
    As she went to lift the tea caddy from the
    mantelpiece she was