This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1872. Excerpt: ... ALICE DALE'S OFFERS. CHAPTER I. V MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. mHE High Street of the little town of--Effington presented, one Sunday afternoon in the early Summer time, a very unusual appearance, for a staid and respectable town. The worthy townsfolk were gathered in knots about the pavement, and grouped together in the grass-grown road, all intent upon one topic of conversation. Effington was a quaint old-fashioned town, that had made no progress for centuries, that knew no law of change, but went on in a dull round of listless action, and was the same Effington that the Roundheads had marched through to fight Prince Rupert and his cavaliers. Everything was time-worn, and falling to decay. The rude arch spanning the High Street was crumbling into dust--the grotesque houses of uncouth exterior, with their blinking lattice windows, twisted doorsteps, and high-peaked roofs, like witches' caps, were all threatening to collapse; the old church of Effington itself had lost a portion of its tower, but the ivy had grown over the gap and concealed its wounds with a green mantle. From this High Street to the churchyard extended the knots of loungers, and from their conversation we may learn something to the purport of this story. "Well, we all must die, dame, and Mr. Dale had a long lease, I take it, for he was seventy-six when he gave up the ghost." "As good a man as ever breathed," said the dame in reply, "and no pride in him. Many's the time he's offed with his beaver when I've come across him in my rounds." "Ay, a-, there was no pride in Mr. Dale; a better man never stood in shoe-leather," chimed a third. "He hadn't much reason to be proud the last few years on his life," cried an old woman in a red cloak, "for everybody in Effington knows his misfortunes addled his ...