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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"Smith and the Pharaohs, and other Tales"


After this the chorus was silent and Menzi himself took up the game,
apparently asking questions of the sky and putting his ear to the ground
for an answer.
At length he announced: (1) That the thimble was not among the rocks;
(2) That it was not lost at all.
"But it is, it is, you silly old man," cried Tabitha excitedly. "I have
hunted everywhere, and I cried about it because I haven't got another,
and can't buy one here, and the needle hurts my finger."
Menzi contemplated her gravely as though he were looking her through and
through.
"It is _not_ lost, Little Flower. I see it; you have it now. Put your
hand into the pocket of your dress. What do you find there?"
"Nothing," said Tabitha. "That is, nothing except a hole."
"Feel at the bottom of your dress, there on the right. No, a little more
to the front. What do you feel there?"
"Something hard," said Tabitha.
"Take this knife and cut the lining of your dress where you feel the
hard thing. Ah! there is the silver shield which you have been carrying
about with you all these days."
The crowd murmured approval. Dorcas exclaimed: "Well, I never!" and
Thomas looked first puzzled, then angry, then suspicious.
"Does the Teacher think that the Floweret and the old doctor have made
a plot together?" asked Menzi.


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