Seth

After the disappearance of Seth, Virginia Rich- mond walked up and down the floor of her home filled with vague alarms.

And when, at the end of the week, Seth returned, a little weary and with coal soot in his ears and about his eyes, she again found herself unable to reprove him.

On a summer evening Seth Richmond went to the New Willard House to visit his friend, George Willard.

On the stairway Seth stopped and listened to the voices of the men below.

In Winesburg, Seth Richmond was called the "deep one." "He's like his father," men said as he went through the streets.

The talk of the town and the respect with which men and boys instinctively greeted him, as all men greet silent people, had affected Seth Richmond's outlook on life and on himself.

"Come, Ben, lad," said Seth, in a persuasive tone, "don't let's have a quarrel about it.

"I binna frighted at Adam," said Ben, "but I donna mind sayin' as I'll let 't alone at your askin', Seth."

"Which was ye thinkin' on, Seth," he began--"the pretty parson's face or her sarmunt, when ye forgot the panels?"

"Come and hear her, Ben," said Seth, good-humouredly; "she's going to preach on the Green to-night; happen ye'd get something to think on yourself then, instead o' those wicked songs you're so fond on.

"All i' good time for that, Seth; I'll think about that when I'm a-goin' to settle i' life; bachelors doesn't want such heavy earnin's.

Happen ye can tell me, Seth, if so be as I shouldna come up i' time for't.