{"id":"01KG6GMJGHWK6015XE948AYEFE","cid":"bafkreiexfzir3xoqbuhbg3npsnvzozwofh6v5n3wn7gmmmtbnkwj3jrrfm","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":6229,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T03:55:03.883Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 4","source_file":"01KG6FXSCNX5F3D880P3YP3PKR","start_line":6145,"text":"‘Well, I’ve heard that some women ain’t all maple-sugar; but, content\r\nwith dear Martha, I don’t know much about others.’\r\n\r\n‘You find rare wisdom in the woods,’ mused I.\r\n\r\n‘Now, husband, if you ain’t too tired, just lend a hand to draw the\r\ntable out.’\r\n\r\n‘Nay,’ said I; ‘let him rest, and let me help.’\r\n\r\n‘No,’ said William, rising.\r\n\r\n‘Sit still,’ said his wife to me.\r\n\r\nThe table set, in due time we all found ourselves with plates before us.\r\n\r\n‘You see what we have,’ said Coulter--‘salt pork, rye-bread, and\r\npudding. Let me help you. I got this pork of the Squire; some of his\r\nlast year’s pork, which he let me have on account. It isn’t quite so\r\nsweet as this year’s would be; but I find it hearty enough to work on,\r\nand that’s all I eat for. Only let the rheumatiz and other sicknesses\r\nkeep clear of me, and I ask no flavours or favours from any. But you\r\ndon’t eat of the pork!’\r\n\r\n‘I see,’ said the wife, gently and gravely, ‘that the gentleman knows\r\nthe difference between this year’s and last year’s pork. But perhaps he\r\nwill like the pudding.’\r\n\r\nI summoned up all my self-control, and smilingly assented to the\r\nproposition of the pudding, without by my looks casting any reflections\r\nupon the pork. But, to tell the truth, it was quite impossible for me\r\n(not being ravenous, but only a little hungry at the time) to eat of the\r\nlatter. It had a yellowish crust all round it, and was rather rankish, I\r\nthought, to the taste. I observed, too, that the dame did not eat of it,\r\nthough she suffered some to be put on her plate, and pretended to be\r\nbusy with it when Coulter looked that way. But she ate of the rye-bread,\r\nand so did I.\r\n\r\n‘Now, then, for the pudding,’ said Coulter. ‘Quick, wife; the Squire\r\nsits in his sitting-room window, looking far out across the fields. His\r\ntimepiece is true.’\r\n\r\n‘He don’t play the spy on you, does he?’ said I.\r\n\r\n‘Oh, no!--I don’t say that. He’s a good enough man. He gives me work.\r\nBut he’s particular. Wife, help the gentleman. You see, sir, if I lose\r\nthe Squire’s work, what will become of----’ and, with a look for which I\r\nhonoured humanity, with sly significance he glanced toward his wife;\r\nthen, a little changing his voice, instantly continued--‘that fine horse\r\nI am going to buy.’\r\n\r\n‘I guess,’ said the dame, with a strange, subdued sort of inefficient\r\npleasantry--‘I guess that fine horse you sometimes so merrily dream of\r\nwill long stay in the Squire’s stall. But sometimes his man gives me a\r\nSunday ride.’\r\n\r\n‘A Sunday ride!’ said I.\r\n\r\n‘You see,’ resumed Coulter, ‘wife loves to go to church; but the nighest\r\nis four miles off, over yon snowy hills. So she can’t walk it; and I\r\ncan’t carry her in my arms, though I have carried her upstairs before\r\nnow. But, as she says, the Squire’s man sometimes gives her a lift on\r\nthe road; and for this cause it is that I speak of a horse I am going to\r\nhave one of these fine sunny days. And already, before having it, I have\r\nchristened it “Martha.” But what am I about? Come, come, wife! the\r\npudding! Help the gentleman, do! The Squire! the Squire!--think of the\r\nSquire! and help round the pudding. There, one--two--three mouthfuls\r\nmust do me. Good-bye, wife. Good-bye, sir. I’m off.’\r\n\r\nAnd, snatching his soaked hat, the noble Poor Man hurriedly went out\r\ninto the soak and the mire.\r\n\r\nI suppose now, thinks I to myself, that Blandmour would poetically say,\r\nHe goes to take a Poor Man’s saunter.\r\n\r\n‘You have a fine husband,’ said I to the woman, as we were now left\r\ntogether.\r\n\r\n‘William loves me this day as on the wedding-day, sir. Some hasty words,\r\nbut never a harsh one. I wish I were better and stronger for his sake.\r\nAnd, oh! sir, both for his sake and mine’ (and the soft blue beautiful\r\neyes turned into two well-springs), ‘how I wish little William and\r\nMartha lived--it is so lonely-like now. William named after him, and\r\nMartha for me.’\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 4"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6GKXW75HFSDG7XY8DT06R3","peer_type":"section","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6FXSCNX5F3D880P3YP3PKR","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG2T49K0H5GDRB0G4YDTPG8H","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6GMJGG7G1T4TVDZMDD2D4B","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6GMJGH3M0PCW75XJACQ08C","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T03:55:04.081Z","ts":"2026-01-30T03:55:17.740Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}