ALTERMURPHY
Down three doors from the ale house, past the
Levenger Shop, and - thru the courtyard - into
the fabric of the past. Another day; cigar smoke,
the urn of the anvil's fire, the collection of the
dairyman's horsehooves. Once long ago they
tried painting the creamery white; old paint,
now yellow'd, still lingers.
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The cabinet holds the cash box where the money
is kept - all those outsiders passing through, dropping
dollars and more for parcels of donuts, bread, milk
chocolates and the rest. Apple-dunking time brings
even more. In some 19th century way, it seems only
the children of privilege come by wearing their
ghoulish Halloween masks.
-
If at once they were to put out a few chairs, those
seats would be filled in an instant : the horse corral
would sound its whinnies, the lambs would bleat.
So many chumps - meaning people - with smiles
on each of their Sunday faces.
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