[Ankur-distro] D the cuckoo. "There are many roads there; you may

[Pylvainen C. <mic...@it...>]

Irs she met Dorcas. "Have you heard what has happened, little missie?"
said the old servant. "Yes," replied Griselda. "My ladies are in great
trouble," continued Dorcas, who seemed inclined to be more communicative
than usual, "and no wonder. For fifty years that clock has never gone
wrong." "Can't it be put right?" asked the child. Dorcas shook
her head. "No good would come of interfering," she said. "What must be,
must be. The
luck of the house hangs on that clock. Its maker spent
a good part of his life over it, and his last words were that it would
bring
good luck to the house that owned it, but that trouble would follow its
silence. It's my belief," she added solemnly,
"that it's a _fairy_ clock, neither more nor less, for good luck it has
brought there's no denying. There are no cows like ours,
missie--their milk is a proverb hereabouts; there are no hens like ours
for laying all the year round; there are no roses like ours. And there's
always a friendly feeling in this house, and always has been. 'Tis not a
house for wrangling and jangling, and sharp words. The 'good people'
can't stand that. Nothing

drives them away like ill-temper or anger." Griselda's conscience gave
her a sharp prick. Could it
be _her_ doing that trouble was coming upon the old house? What a
punishment for a moment's
fit of ill-temper. "I wish you wouldn't talk that way, Dorcas," she
said; "it makes me so unhappy." "What a feeling heart the child has!"
said the
old servant as she went on her way downstairs. "It's true--she is very
like Miss Sybilla." That day wa