Prentice Alvin: the Tales of Alvin Maker, volume Iii

Cover Prentice Alvin: the Tales of Alvin Maker, volume Iii
A miserable week with no profit in it, because try as he would he couldn’t find decent dry ground for them folks west of town to dig their cellar. “It’s all wet ground,” he said. “I can’t help it if it’s all watery.”
But they held him responsible just the same. Folks are like that. They act like they thought the dowser put the water where it sets, instead of just pointing to it. Same way with torches—blamed them half the time for causing what they saw, when all they did was see it. There was no
... gratitude or even simple understanding in most folks.
So it was a relief to be back with somebody half-decent like Makepeace Smith. Even if Hank wasn’t too proud of the way Makepeace was dealing with his prentice boy. How could Hank criticize him? He himself hadn’t done much better—oh, he was pure embarrassed now to think how he railed on that boy and got him a cuffing, and for nothing, really, just a little affront to Hank Dowser’s pride. Jesus stood and took whippings and a crown of thorns in silence, but I lash out when a prentice mumbles a few silly words.
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