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TDATW Michael shrader
Storyboard Text
- They lived ina forlorn-looking house that stood alone and had an air of starvation. A few strag-gling savin trees, emblems of sterility, grew near it; no smoke ever curled from itschimney; no traveler stopped at its door. A miserable horse, whose ribs were asarticulate as the bars of a gridiron,1stalked about a field,
- “Humph!” said Tom Walker, as he gave it a kick to shake the dirt from it. e“Let that skull alone!” said a gruff voice. Tom lifted up his eyes, and beheld agreat black man seated directly opposite him, on the stump of a tree.
- been accustomed to deal with her husband; but though a female scold is gener-ally considered a match for the devil, yet in this instance she appears to have hadthe worst of it. She must have died game, however; for it is said Tom noticedmany prints of cloven feet stamped upon the tree,
- “I’ll do it tomorrow, if you wish,” said Tom Walker.“You shall lend money at two percent a month.”“Egad, I’ll charge four!” replied Tom Walker.“This very night.”“Done!” said the devil.“Done!” said Tom Walker.
- Boston. His door was soon thronged by customers. The needy and adventurous,the gambling speculator, the dreaming land-jobber, the thriftless tradesman,the merchant with cracked credit; in short, everyone driven to raise money bydesperate means and desperate sacrifices hurried to Tom Walker.
- “Tom, you’re come for,” said the black fellow, gruffly. Tom shrank back, but toolate. He had left his little Bible at the bottom of his coat pocket, and his big Bibleon the desk buried under the mortgage he was about to foreclose; never was a sin-ner taken more unawares. The black man whisked him like a child into the saddle,
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