Tom Pinder, Foundling: A Story of the Holmfirth Flood
Mr. Black, solemnly and sadly.

“Show me,” said the boy, simply.

They retraced their steps and sought the ancient burial ground with it’s sunken crosses and mouldering mossy stones, and those little mounds without a name that cover the humble dead. In a distant corner Mr. Black stood with uncovered head by a small marble cross and stone slab.

sacred to the memoryOFA. J.AN UNKNOWN WANDERER WHO DIED IN CHILDBEDAT THE HANGING GATE, DIGGLE.JAN. 11TH, 183—.

Tom gazed upon the simple monument till he could gaze no more, for blinding, scalding tears welled into his eyes and trickled down his cheeks.

“Let us go home,” he said, “let me stop with you to-day.”

In the evening of that peaceful Sunday the school-master told the foundling all he knew: he placed in his hand the precious locket taken from the mother’s neck and promised that it should be transferred to Tom’s, keeping when he should be old enough to keep it safely.

“You will treasure it as the immediate jewel of your soul,” he said; “for thereby you may clear your mother’s name.” Then, falling on his knees he read the evening prayer, and with his blessing dismissed the lad.

 

CHAPTER IV

 

THE ancient village of Holmfirth on the river Holme was, in former days, of considerably more pretension than it is to-day, when the neighbouring town of Huddersfield dwarfs the surrounding communities. Holmfirth stands near the head of the valley of the Holme, and at one time was looked up to as a petty capital by the straggling hamlets that intervened between the river’s head and the spot where, some nine miles below, its tortuous course joins the river Colne at King’s mill in Huddersfield, whence the united currents sweep in broader stream to blend with the Calder at Cooper Bridge, and so onwards to the capacious bosom of the Humber.

Best known and best accustomed of all the shops in Holmfirth was that of Ephraim Thorpe, sometimes; known as Eph o’ Natt’s o’ th’ Thong, but more as “Split,” from a tradition current in the village that he would split a pea rather than be guilty of giving over-weight or measure. The shop was low and dark, it’s floor of blackened stone seldom scrubbed. The two counters were not cleanly, their surface much worn by the 
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