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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis: Quaker, or Friend, as they call themselves. I think this woman
Was known by that name in heaven. A homely body, coarsely
dressed in gray and white. Deborah (for Haley had let her in)
took notice of her. She watched them all--sitting on the end of
the pallet, holding his head in her arms with the ferocity of a
watch-dog, if any of them touched the body. There was no
meekness, no sorrow, in her face; the stuff out of which
murderers are made, instead. All the time Haley and the woman
were laying straight the limbs and cleaning the cell, Deborah
sat still, keenly watching the Quaker's face. Of all the crowd
there that day, this woman alone had not spoken to her,--only
Life in the Iron-Mills |
