[{"node":{"title":"Hanna083","Collections":"Part One","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1951","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Thursday, April 7, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Hanna083","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Horse, Village","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna083","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/Hanna083_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"78\n\n\"Damn ye for a bitch!\u201d Carspindle shouted, forcing the cork into the\nbottle and staggering upward.\n\nSarah ran blindly through the public saloon looking to neither\nright nor left. She saw the glow of the cart lamp at the gable of the\nhouse. The bitter cold of the night made her draw breath with a hiss,\nin the whitewashed wall across the street a man lay spreadeagled. \"D\u2019ye\nknow toe Three Curses av Ireland, ma\u2019am?\" he bellowed, \"Priests, Parsons\nan\u2019 Porther!\u2019 She reached the cart and fumbled at the step with her\nfoot. She found it and raised herself up, kneeling on the shaft, then\non the lip of the cart. With a sob she tumbled forward on the seat.\n\nThe heavy footsteps behind her stopped and she saw Hamilton climbing\nup by the wheel. He forced his way past her and sat down heavily.\n\n\"In the name of Cod, Sarah!\u201d he shouted angrily. She put her hands to\nher face and sobbed outright. The horse, feeling the reins tighten on\nhis mouth, stirred gladly and clicked his hooves on the stones. The\ndoor of the nubile-house flew open again and Carsplndle stood on the\nstep. Damn your souls - dont go off wi' my basket!\" he shouted running\ntowards them. The horse did not move and he ran heavily against the\nside of the cart. \"Hold him, Hami,\" he said, groping with his foot for\nthe spokes. \"I thought ye were away wi\u2019out me, he said In an apologetic\nvoice, worming himself down into the bags behind them.\n\nThe echo of the horse's feet grew and fell away as they passed the\nlast irregular walls of the village. Then hey were out in the silence\nagain, running swiftly through the fields, and the glean end sound of\ntheir passage was swallowed by the black hedges. The homing horse,\nfeeling a lax hand on the reins, opened his stride on the hard ringing\n","Type":"Text"}}]