[{"node":{"title":"Hanna080","Collections":"Part One","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1951","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Thursday, April 7, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Hanna080","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Laboureres, Ascetic","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna080","Publisher":"Linen Hall Library","Relation":"Linen Hall Library","Rights":"Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA","Scanned image":{"src":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna080_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"75\n\n\"Come, ma\u2019am,\u201d he said, \"it\u2019s not often ye grace the market. Dont kill the\nday for a thimblefull o\u2019 fun.\" Sarah laughed and stretching down her hand\nto Carspindle, leapt lightly to the ground.\n\nWhen she entered the tavern she saw the men to whom the publican\nhad been speaking. They were three labourers, the first of the evening\u2019s\ncompany. They sat with their back to the wall on a long form, dressed in\ntheir evening best, with shaven faces, bright cloth caps and gleamiig brass\nstuds in the necks of their collarless twisttweed shirts.\n\nThe publican nodded familiarly to Carspindle and moving swiftly down,\nthe bar, threw open the door leading to the kitchen. Hamilton hesitated on\nthe threshold, \u201cMaybe its too much trouble - we aren\u2019t stopping over long,\nhe said.\n\nCarspindle caught him by the arm. \"damn-it-skin, he said in a low\nvoice ye cant have the lady sitting there!\u201d nodding to the bar and its\nthree interested occupants.\n\n\"Ah!\u201d said Hamilton, and plunged down the dark passage after the\npublican. The man ushered them into the empty kitchen and there Carspindle\ntook charge. In the light of the hanging-lamp Sarah saw her fellow-\ntraveller more closely. He was about sixty years of age, sturdily built,\nhis shoulders already bowed and his hands hanging down, knuckles out, on\nthe front of his thighs. He had no hat and his thin hair and naked scalp\nfilled the girl with pity and distaste. He wore a leather waistcoat and\nhad bundled himself into three threadbare overcoats of varying length and\ncolour. The knot of his woolen scarf, damp with drunken spittle and\ncondensed breath, had chafed his throat and now twisted behind his ear.\n\nSome Whiskey drinkers achieve a pale, almost ascetic appearance, but with\n","Type":"Text"}}]