Jeremias Gotthelf

For where belief dwells, the spider may not stir, neither by day nor by night.

Then the green man__ face grew even blacker, the red beard so red it seemed to crackle and sparkle like fir twigs on the fire; the mouth contracted to an arrow-like point before it opened to inquire in the sweetest, gentlest tones.

Hard by the church stood the public house; so often the two are closely conjoined, honorably sharing both joys and sorrows.