as a sense of crowding
remembrances from which he turned away timidly, taking refuge in
Eppie's little world, that lay lightly on his enfeebled spirit.

As the child's mind was growing into knowledge, his mind was growing
into memory: as her life unfolded, his soul, long stupefied in a cold
narrow prison, was unfolding too, and trembling gradually into full
consciousness.

It was an influence which must gather force with every new year: the
tones that stirred Silas's heart grew articulate, and called for more
distinct answers; shapes and sounds grew clearer for Eppie's eyes and
ears, and there was more that "Dad-dad" was imperatively required to
notice and account for. Also, by the time Eppie was three years old,
she developed a fine capacity for mischief, and for devising ingenious
ways of being troublesome, which found much exercise, not only for
Silas's patience, but for his watchfulness and penetration. Sorely was
poor Silas puzzled on such occasions by the incompatible demands of
love. Dolly Winthrop told him that punishment was good for Eppie, and
that, as for rearing a child without making it tingle a little in soft
and safe places now and then, it was not to be done.

"To be sure, there's another thing you might do, Master Marner," added
Dolly, meditatively: "you might shut her up once i' the coal-hole.
That was what I did wi' Aaron; for I was that silly wi' the youngest
lad, as I could never bear to smack him. Not as I could find i' my
heart to let him stay i' the coal-hole more nor a minute, but it was
enough to colly him all over, so as he must be new washed and dressed,
and it was as good as a rod to him--that was. But I put it upo' your
conscience, Master Marner, as there's one of 'em you must
choose--ayther smacking or the coal-hole--else she'll get so masterful,
there'll be no holding her."

Silas was impressed with the melancholy truth of this last remark; but
his force of mind failed before the only two penal methods open to him,
not only because it was painful to him to hurt Eppie, but because he
trembled at a moment's contention with her, lest she should love him
the less for it. Let even an affectionate Goliath get himself tied to
a small tender thing, dreading to hurt it by pulling, and dreading
still more to snap the cord, and which of the two, pray, will be
master? It was clear that Eppie, with her short toddling steps, must
lead father Silas a pretty dance on any fine morning when circ