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"Love!" said I, letting go the handle of the bellows

"An' hts into your head?"

"You did, Peter"

"I?"

"Ah!--some men is born lovers, Peter, an' you be one I never

see such eyes as yourn afore, so burnin' 'ot they be Ah, Peter!

soht aflame in 'em some day, an'

droop 'er 'ead an' blush an' tremble--for she'll know, Peter,

she'll know; maids was made to be loved, Peter--"

"But, Ancient, I am not the kind of man women would be attracted

by I love books and solitude, and a sort--"

"Some men, Peter, falls in love as easy as they falls out; it

comes to some soft an' quiet--like the dawn of a suert an' tur'ble storm--oh,

that it do! Theer's a fire ready to burn up inside o' ye at the

touch o' some woman's 'and, or the peep o' 'er eye--ah! a fire

as'll burn, an' burn, an' never go out again--not even if you

should live to be as old as I be--an' you'll be strong an' wild

an' fierce wi' it--an' some day you'll find 'er, Peter, an'

she'll find you--"