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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:05:11 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:05:11 -0700 |
| commit | 29fd0403b8d3e9f6cffe2ec3f17a3ba81861d1ad (patch) | |
| tree | 43149a6b9dcc50f2f13ac8d7dfeb43e623dbc55f /36132-h | |
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+ } + + </style> + +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Parent's Assistant, by Maria Edgeworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Parent's Assistant + Stories for Children + +Author: Maria Edgeworth + +Illustrator: Chris Hammond + +Release Date: May 17, 2011 [EBook #36132] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PARENT'S ASSISTANT *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Matthew Wheaton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div> + +<h1 id="booktitle">THE PARENT'S ASSISTANT</h1> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img border="0" src="images/i001t.jpg" alt="i001t" /> +</div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Frontispiece" id="Frontispiece">[Front]</a></span> + <a href="images/i002f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i002t.jpg" alt="i002t" /> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>'I thought I saw——' poor Franklin began.</i>—P. 61.</p> +</div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<div class="topbox"> +<p class="h5">THE</p> +<p class="h4">PARENT'S ASSISTANT</p> +<p class="h5">or, Stories for Children</p> +<p class="h6">BY</p> +<p class="h3">MARIA EDGEWORTH</p> +</div> + +<div class="bottombox" style="border-style:none solid solid solid"> +<p class="h4">WITH AN INTRODUCTION</p> +<p class="h5">BY</p> +<p class="h4">ANNE THACKERAY RITCHIE</p> +</div> + +<div class="bottombox" style="border-style:none solid solid solid"> +<p class="h4">ILLUSTRATED</p> +<p class="h5">BY</p> +<p class="h4">CHRIS HAMMOND</p> +</div> + +<div class="bottombox" style="border-style:none solid solid solid"> +<p class="h4">LONDON: MACMILLAN AND CO, LIMITED</p> +<p class="h4">NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</p> +<p class="h4">1903</p> +</div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h5"><i>First printed with Illustrations by Chris Hammond 1897.</i> + <br /> + <i>Illustrated Pocket Classics 1903.</i> +</p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p><span class="pagenum">[vii]</span></p> +<p class="h2">INTRODUCTION</p> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">Once</span> when the present writer was a very little girl she +suffered for a short time from some inflammation of the +eyes, which prevented her from reading, or amusing herself +in any way. Her father, who had just then returned from +the East, in order to help her to pass the weary hours +began telling her the story of the 'Forty Thieves,' and when +he had finished, and had boiled down the wicked thieves in +oil, and when she asked him to tell it all over again, he +said that he would try and find something else to amuse +her, and looking about the room he took up a volume of +the <i>Parent's Assistant</i> which was lying on the table, and +began to read aloud the story of the 'Little Merchants.' +The story lasted two mornings, and an odd, confused impression +still remains in the listener's mind to this day of +Naples, Vesuvius, pink and white sugar plums—of a +darkened room, of a lonely country house in Belgium, of a +sloping garden full of flowers outside the shutters, of the +back of a big sofa covered with yellow velvet, and of her +father's voice reading on and on. When she visited Naples +in after days she found herself looking about unconsciously +for her early playfellows.</p> + +<p>Not only Francisco and Piedro, but all those various +members of the Edgeworth family who play their parts in<span class="pagenum">[viii]</span> +fancy names and dresses in Miss Edgeworth's stories, +became her daily familiar companions from that day forth.</p> + +<p>Many of the stories in the <i>Parent's Assistant</i> were +written in a time when wars and rumours of wars were in +the air; these quiet scenes of village life were devised to +the sound of clarions. Rebels were marching and countermarching; +volunteers were assembling; husbandmen, throwing +away their spades, were arming and turning into +soldiers; the French were landing in Ireland. 'I cannot +be a Captain of Dragoons,' writes Miss Edgeworth, 'and +it would not make any of us one degree safer if I were sitting +with my hands before me.' So she quietly goes on +with her stories. One or two of them were written at +Clifton, and very early in her career an illustrated edition +had been suggested by the publishers. A young Irish +neighbour, with a taste for the fine arts, was asked to make +the drawings to these stories, and it was this lady, Miss +Beaufort, the daughter of the Rector of Colon, who afterwards +became the fourth Mrs. Edgeworth. Not long after +his third wife's death in 1797, Mr. Edgeworth wrote a letter +to Dr. Darwin at Lichfield, in which he gives him various +items of family news. He writes of portraits (Dr. Darwin, +Mr. Thomas Day, and Mr. Edgeworth, had all sat for their +portraits); he writes of Upas trees, of frozen frogs, of farming +and rack-rents; of pipes for hot-houses to be heated by +stable dung, of speaking machines, and finally in a postscript +he announces the fact of his being engaged to be +married for the fourth time, 'to a young lady of small +fortune and large accomplishments, much youth, some +beauty, more sense, uncommon talents, more uncommon +temper, liked by my family, loved by me.'</p> + +<p>These were stormy times for Ireland: a few days after +the letter was written, a conspiracy was discovered in<span class="pagenum">[ix]</span> +Dublin, and the city was under arms. Mr. Edgeworth set +out immediately to join the Beauforts, who were there. +The true-hearted daughter now admires her father for +urging on the marriage. 'Instead of delaying, as some +would have advised, my father urged for an immediate day. +He brought his bride home through a part of the country +in actual insurrection.'</p> + +<p>There is a grim story of the new-married pair on their +way to Edgeworthstown passing the suspended corpse of a +man hanging between the shafts of a cart. Miss Edgeworth +in her Memoirs of her father gives a striking account +of the family assembled to receive the new wife. It is a +grandson of this last Mrs. Edgeworth who is the present +owner of Edgeworthstown.</p> + +<p><i>The Parent's Assistant</i> had just been written; but one or +two of the stories in the present collection were not added +till much later, such as 'The Bracelets,' which were written +in Switzerland to make up a proper allowance of copy for a +new edition. It is hard to make a choice among these +charming and familiar histories. They open like fairy +tales, recounting in simple diction the histories of widows +living in flowery cottages, with assiduous devoted little sons, +who work in the garden and earn money to make up the +rent. There are also village children busily employed, and +good little orphans whose parents generally die in the opening +pages. Fairies were not much in Miss Edgeworth's +line, but philanthropic manufacturers, liberal noblemen, +and benevolent ladies in travelling carriages, do as well and +appear in the nick of time to distribute rewards or to point +a moral. Rosamond of the Purple Jar reappears in the +<i>Birthday Present</i>, which gives one an odd picture of the +customs of those days. We read of the little lace girl who +leaves her pillow upon a stone before the door, and of the<span class="pagenum">[x]</span> +footman laced with silver, who having entangled the +bobbins and kicked the pillow into the lane, jumps up +behind his mistress's coach and is out of sight in a +minute. Wise Laura, who had not, like Rosamond, spent +her half-guinea upon filigree paper, consoles the little weeping +lace-maker, and presses her golden coin into her hand.</p> + +<p>Lazy Lawrence is one of the prettiest stories in the +collection. Who could read the story of Dutiful Jim and +his love for old Lightfoot unmoved? Lightfoot deserves +to take his humble place among the immortal winged +steeds of mythology along with Pegasus, or with Black Bess, +or Balaam's Ass, or any other celebrated steeds.</p> + +<p>Most children like the history of the Orphans; that +quiet history in which the sister of twelve years old acts a +mother's part by the little children. I believe the story is +founded on some real and modest heroine of those bygone +days. Then, again, who has not sympathised with 'Waste +not, Want not,' and with thoughtful Ben and his careful +assiduity? It would be curious to calculate how much +good time has been sacrificed to saving worthless pieces of +string in imitation of this thrifty but fascinating hero. But +after all nothing is to compare to Simple Susan: how pretty +the scene is where Susan, working in her arbour, hears the +sound of her friend Philip's pipe and tabor; the children +come across the green with their garlands, leading up Susan's +lamb tied up with ribbons, the wicked agent skulks away; +innocence and beauty triumph over wrong.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Friendship plays a no less important part in Miss Edgeworth's +stories than it did in her own actual experience. +Many of the scenes of Miss Edgeworth's stories are laid in +manufacturing districts, and I have already quoted from the +correspondence with Mr. Strutt, on whose sympathy and<span class="pagenum">[xi]</span> +help she so greatly relied. Young Edward Strutt, afterwards +Lord Belper, used to write to the young men at +Edgeworthstown when he was a child of only nine years +old. 'I shall not be satisfied with any letter from you that +does not mention every member of your uncle's family and +your own,' says one of the young Edgeworths, writing back +in answer to the boy. Mr. Edgeworth sends his sons in +succession to visit his friend Mr. Strutt, and quotes from +Pliny, saying: 'The claim I now make to your favour +is your having already done me favours. I introduce my +fourth son to your notice simply upon the foundation of +your having been very kind to his brothers.'</p> + +<p>In 1823 Miss Edgeworth, who has been writing to Mr. +Strutt for years, addresses him as 'my dear sir—my dear +friend, I think I may venture to say!' She consults him +upon details in her stories, and asks his advice on some +matter connected with spinning-jennies. There also are +many family events, charmingly chronicled in the orderly +flowing characters of the lady, or the bolder writing of her +correspondent; one letter concerns the election to Parliament +of Mr. Edward Strutt in 1830.</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"> +<p class="noin"> +The Strutts are all clever,<br /> +Here's Edward for ever, +</p> +</div> + +<p class="noin">she writes, and defends her doggerel by the 'natural Irish +spirits where the interests of a friend are concerned.' As +time goes on Lord Belper's own letters appear, keeping up +the family tradition of kindness and hospitality. The +author's conscientious painstaking strikes one, as one realises +the care she bestowed upon her work. <i>La Triste Réalité</i>, of +which Mme. de Stael complained, has certainly its charm for +the infant mind, and also for some maturer readers.</p> + +<p>Archbishop Whately in one of his reviews upon Miss<span class="pagenum">[xii]</span> +Edgeworth points out the change which has gradually +come over story-telling. 'Instead of the splendid scenes of +an imaginary world, striking representations of that which +is daily taking place around us are set forth,' he says. +'We now turn to <i>Flemish painting</i>'—so he calls the +descriptions; and he adds that a novel which makes +good its pretensions of giving a perfectly correct picture +of common life, becomes a far more instructive work +than one of superior merit belonging to the imaginative +class; for, as he tells us, 'It guides the judgment and +supplies a kind of artificial experience of life.' It is also +Whately who complains—not exactly as one would expect +an archbishop to complain—that Miss Edgeworth's stories +are too improving, too didactic. 'She would, we think, instruct +more successfully, and we are sure please more frequently, +if she kept the design of teaching more out of +sight,' he writes. If Whately were alive to review the +novels of our own day, he might after all prefer 'the splendid +scenes of an imaginary world' to the favourite experiments +in garbage of our present Laura Matildas. It is +true the books sell by thousands. They certainly prove +that the successful discovery of the age is <i>not</i> to point out +what is right but what is wrong. Books used to be coarse +and jocular; our books are earnest and indecent on principle. +One hears of the <i>revolting</i> daughters who are so +much to the front, the same word in a different sense may +perhaps apply to a favourite school of authors now in +vogue.</p> + +<p>There is, however, a compensating balance in every adjustment +of the scales of life: along with the minor virtues which +are so much out of fashion, such as modesty, decency, good +breeding, etc., follows the expulsion of a great many minor +vices, such as affectation, disingenuousness, exclusiveness,<span class="pagenum">[xiii]</span> +and worldly wisdom. The latter qualities still exist of +course, but in a rather shame-stricken, apologetic sort of +way. Besides the gibes of literature, they have to contend +with all sorts of opposing influences,—with omnibuses, +depreciated investments, penny papers, county councils, all +of which certainly place altruism and public spirit in the +place of the more personal egotisms of our grandfathers.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[xv]</span></p> +<p class="h2">CONTENTS</p> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="80%" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Preface</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#PREFACE">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Orphans</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#THE_ORPHANS">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Lazy Lawrence</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#LAZY_LAWRENCE">27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The False Key</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#THE_FALSE_KEY">55</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Simple Susan</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#SIMPLE_SUSAN">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The White Pigeon</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#THE_WHITE_PIGEON">141</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Birthday Present</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#THE_BIRTHDAY_PRESENT">153</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Eton Montem</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#ETON_MONTEM">169</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Forgive and Forget</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#FORGIVE_AND_FORGET">215</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Waste not, Want not; or, Two Strings to your Bow</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#WASTE_NOT_WANT_NOT">231</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Old Poz</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#OLD_POZ">257</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Mimic</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#THE_MIMIC">273</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Barring Out; or, Party Spirit</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#THE_BARRING_OUT">307</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Bracelets</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#THE_BRACELETS">347</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Little Merchants</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#THE_LITTLE_MERCHANTS">373</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Tarlton</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#TARLTON">431</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Basket-Woman</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#THE_BASKET-WOMAN">451</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[xvii]</span></p> + +<p class="h2">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</p> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="80%" summary=""> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'I thought I saw——' poor Franklin began</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Frontispiece"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Inquired what it was she most wanted</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'Well, and what have you done with the treasure you had the luck to find?'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'See what you've done for me—look!—look, look, I say!'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'What's the matter?' said his mistress. 'God bless the boy!' said his mother</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'You know this key? I shall trust it in your care'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'It won't do,' said Barbara, turning her back</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Tried all her skill to fathom his thoughts</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Let it eat out of her hand for the last time</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'Stay! oh stay! don't chop his head off'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The boy pulled off the cover, and saw a white pigeon painted upon the sign</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">She twisted and untwisted, placed and replaced, the bobbins, while the footman stood laughing at her distress</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'I shan't spoil it; and I will have it in my own hands'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'Then shake hands, my honest landlord'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Enter Miss Bursal, in a riding dress</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_181">181</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'I say I saw <i>him</i> there take the jump which strained the horse.'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'Talbot and truth for ever! Huzza'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'Stay! Stand still, sir! or you will break your china jar'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">When Maurice saw his raspberry-plants scattered upon the ground, +and his favourite tulip broken, he was in much astonishment</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Playing at cat's cradle</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">He dragged poor Hal out of the red mud</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_253">253</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><i>Lucy.</i> What's this, papa? <i>Just.</i> Pshaw! pshaw! pshaw!—it is not melted, child—it is the same as no sugar</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'Five times have I commanded silence, and I won't command anything five times in vain—<i>that's poz!</i>'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'And Mr. Smack, the curate, and Squire Solid, and the doctor, sir, are come, and dinner is upon the table'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_270">270</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The next day Mrs. Theresa Tattle did herself the honour to wait upon Mrs. Montague</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_276">276</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'She dashed and splashed without minding exactness, or the recipe, or anything'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'And like a man—and like a good man, I am sure thou wilt,' said the good Quaker, shaking Frederick's hand affectionately</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_304">304</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'What is become of my Livy?' 'Your <i>sister</i> Livy, do you mean?'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_313">313</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Archer leaped up, and seizing hold of Fisher with a powerful grasp, sternly demanded 'What he meant by this?'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_335">335</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">He sneaked out, whimpering in a doleful voice</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_345">345</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'How?' cried Cecilia, catching hold of her</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_352">352</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'Oh, stay one minute!' said Cecilia</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_363">363</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'I saw him the other day miss selling a melon for his father by turning the bruised side to the customer'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_377">377</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Piedro was hissed and hooted out of the market-place</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_400">400</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Jew, who was a man old in all the arts of villainy, contrived to cheat both his associates</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_413">413</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Returned in safety over the lava, yet warm under his feet</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_419">419</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'Is it poison?' exclaimed Loveit, starting back with horror</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_441">441</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'May God bless you!'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_448">448</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'But, oh, brother, look at this! this is not the same as the other halfpence'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_456">456</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">His master came in with a face of indignation, and demanded '<i>The guinea</i>—the <i>guinea</i>, <i>sir</i>!'</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_464">464</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[1]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h2> + +<h4>ADDRESSED TO PARENTS</h4> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">Our</span> great lexicographer, in his celebrated eulogium on Dr. +Watts, thus speaks in commendation of those productions +which he so successfully penned for the pleasure and instruction +of the juvenile portion of the community.</p> + +<p>'For children,' says Dr. Johnson, 'he condescended to lay +aside the philosopher, the scholar, and the wit, to write little +poems of devotion, and systems of instruction adapted to their +wants and capacities, from the dawn of reason to its gradation +of advance in the morning of life. Every man acquainted with +the common principles of human action will look with veneration +on the writer who is at one time combating Locke and at +another time making a catechism for <i>children in their fourth +year</i>. A voluntary descent from the dignity of science is +perhaps the hardest lesson which humility can teach.'</p> + +<p>It seems, however, no very easy task to write for children. +Those only who have been interested in the education of a +family, who have patiently followed children through the first +processes of reasoning, who have daily watched over their +thoughts and feelings—those only who know with what ease +and rapidity the early associations of ideas are formed, on which +the future taste, character, and happiness depend, can feel the +dangers and difficulties of such an undertaking.</p> + +<p>Indeed, in all sciences the grand difficulty has been to +ascertain facts—a difficulty which, in the science of education,<span class="pagenum">[2]</span> +peculiar circumstances conspire to increase. Here the objects of +every experiment are so interesting that we cannot hold our +minds indifferent to the result. Nor is it to be expected that +many registers of experiments, successful and unsuccessful, +should be kept, much less should be published, when we +consider that the combined powers of affection and vanity, of +partiality to his child and to his theory, will act upon the mind +of a parent, in opposition to the abstract love of justice, and the +general desire to increase the wisdom and happiness of mankind. +Notwithstanding these difficulties, an attempt to keep such a +register has actually been made. The design has from time to +time been pursued. Though much has not been collected, every +circumstance and conversation that have been preserved are +faithfully and accurately related, and these notes have been of +great advantage to the writer of the following stories.</p> + +<p>The question, whether society could exist without the distinction +of ranks, is a question involving a variety of complicated +discussions, which we leave to the politician and the legislator. +At present it is necessary that the education of different ranks +should, in some respects, be different. They have few ideas, +few habits, in common; their peculiar vices and virtues do not +arise from the same causes, and their ambition is to be directed +to different objects. But justice, truth, and humanity are confined +to no particular rank, and should be enforced with equal +care and energy upon the minds of young people of every +station; and it is hoped that these principles have never been +forgotten in the following pages.</p> + +<p>As the ideas of children multiply, the language of their books +should become less simple; else their taste will quickly be disgusted, +or will remain stationary. Children that live with +people who converse with elegance will not be contented with +a style inferior to what they hear from everybody near them.</p> + +<p>All poetical allusions, however, have been avoided in this +book; such situations only are described as children can easily +imagine, and which may consequently interest their feelings.<span class="pagenum">[3]</span> +Such examples of virtue are painted as are not above their +conception of excellence, or their powers of sympathy and +emulation.</p> + +<p>It is not easy to give <i>rewards</i> to children which shall not +indirectly do them harm by fostering some hurtful taste or +passion. In the story of 'Lazy Lawrence,' where the object +was to excite a spirit of industry, care has been taken to proportion +the reward to the exertion, and to demonstrate that people +feel cheerful and happy whilst they are employed. The reward +of our industrious boy, though it be money, is only money considered +as the means of gratifying a benevolent wish. In a +commercial nation it is especially necessary to separate, as much +as possible, the spirit of industry and avarice; and to beware +lest we introduce Vice under the form of Virtue.</p> + +<p>In the story of 'Tarlton and Loveit' are represented the +danger and the folly of that weakness of mind, and that easiness +to be led, which too often pass for good nature; and in the tale +of the 'False Key' are pointed out some of the evils to which +a well-educated boy, on first going to service, is exposed from +the profligacy of his fellow-servants.</p> + +<p>In the 'Birthday Present,' and in the character of Mrs. +Theresa Tattle, the <i>Parent's Assistant</i> has pointed out the +dangers which may arise in education from a bad servant or +a common acquaintance.</p> + +<p>In the 'Barring Out' the errors to which a high spirit and +the love of party are apt to lead have been made the subject of +correction, and it is hoped that the common fault of making the +most mischievous characters appear the most <i>active</i> and the +most ingenious has been as much as possible avoided. +<i>Unsuccessful</i> cunning will not be admired, and cannot induce +imitation.</p> + +<p>It has been attempted, in these stories, to provide antidotes +against ill-humour, the epidemic rage for dissipation, and the +fatal propensity to admire and imitate whatever the fashion of +the moment may distinguish. Were young people, either in<span class="pagenum">[4]</span> +public schools or in private families, absolutely free from bad +examples, it would not be advisable to introduce despicable and +vicious characters in books intended for their improvement. +But in real life they <i>must</i> see vice, and it is best that they +should be early shocked with the representation of what they +are to avoid. There is a great deal of difference between +innocence and ignorance.</p> + +<p>To prevent the precepts of morality from tiring the ear and +the mind, it was necessary to make the stories in which they are +introduced in some measure dramatic; to keep alive hope and +fear and curiosity, by some degree of intricacy. At the same +time, care has been taken to avoid inflaming the imagination, +or exciting a restless spirit of adventure, by exhibiting false +views of life, and creating hopes which, in the ordinary course +of things, cannot be realised.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[5]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="THE_ORPHANS" id="THE_ORPHANS"></a>THE ORPHANS</h2> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">Near</span> the ruins of the castle of Rossmore, in Ireland, is a +small cabin, in which there once lived a widow and her four +children. As long as she was able to work, she was very +industrious, and was accounted the best spinner in the parish; +but she overworked herself at last, and fell ill, so that she +could not sit to her wheel as she used to do, and was obliged +to give it up to her eldest daughter, Mary.</p> + +<p>Mary was at this time about twelve years old. One evening +she was sitting at the foot of her mother's bed spinning, and +her little brothers and sisters were gathered round the fire +eating their potatoes and milk for supper. 'Bless them, the +poor young creatures!' said the widow, who, as she lay on her +bed, which she knew must be her deathbed, was thinking of +what would become of her children after she was gone. Mary +stopped her wheel, for she was afraid that the noise of it had +wakened her mother, and would hinder her from going to +sleep again.</p> + +<p>'No need to stop the wheel, Mary, dear, for me,' said her +mother, 'I was not asleep; nor is it <i>that</i> which keeps me from +sleep. But don't overwork yourself, Mary.' 'Oh, no fear of +that,' replied Mary; 'I'm strong and hearty.' 'So was I +once,' said her mother. 'And so you will be again, I hope,' +said Mary, 'when the fine weather comes again.'</p> + +<p>'The fine weather will never come again to me,' said her +mother. ''Tis a folly, Mary, to hope for that; but what I hope +is, that you'll find some friend—some help—orphans as you'll +soon all of you be. And one thing comforts my heart, even as +I <i>am</i> lying here, that not a soul in the wide world I am leaving +has to complain of me. Though poor I have lived honest,<span class="pagenum">[6]</span> +and I have brought you up to be the same, Mary; and I am +sure the little ones will take after you; for you'll be good to +them—as good to them as you can.'</p> + +<p>Here the children, who had finished eating their suppers, +came round the bed, to listen to what their mother was saying. +She was tired of speaking, for she was very weak; but she +took their little hands as they laid them on the bed, and +joining them all together, she said, 'Bless you, dears—bless +you; love and help one another all you can. Good night!—good-bye!'</p> + +<p>Mary took the children away to their bed, for she saw that +their mother was too ill to say more; but Mary did not herself +know how ill she was. Her mother never spoke rightly afterwards, +but talked in a confused way about some debts, and one +in particular, which she owed to a schoolmistress for Mary's +schooling; and then she charged Mary to go and pay it, +because she was not able to <i>go in</i> with it. At the end of the +week she was dead and buried, and the orphans were left alone +in their cabin.</p> + +<p>The two youngest girls, Peggy and Nancy, were six and +seven years old. Edmund was not yet nine, but he was a +stout-grown, healthy boy, and well disposed to work. He had +been used to bring home turf from the bog on his back, to lead +carthorses, and often to go on errands for gentlemen's families, +who paid him a sixpence or a shilling, according to the distance +which he went, so that Edmund, by some or other of these +little employments, was, as he said, likely enough to earn his +bread; and he told Mary to have a good heart, for that he +should every year grow able to do more and more, and that he +should never forget his mother's words when she last gave him +her blessing and joined their hands all together.</p> + +<p>As for Peggy and Nancy, it was little that they could do; +but they were good children, and Mary, when she considered +that so much depended upon her, was resolved to exert herself +to the utmost. Her first care was to pay those debts which +her mother had mentioned to her, for which she left money +done up carefully in separate papers. When all these were +paid away, there was not enough left to pay both the rent of +the cabin and a year's schooling for herself and sisters which +was due to the schoolmistress in a neighbouring village.</p> + +<p>Mary was in hopes that the rent would not be called for<span class="pagenum">[7]</span> +immediately, but in this she was disappointed. Mr. Harvey, +the gentleman on whose estate she lived, was in England, and +in his absence all was managed by a Mr. Hopkins, an agent, +who was a <i>hard man</i>.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> The driver came to Mary about a week +after her mother's death and told her that the rent must be +brought in the next day, and that she must leave the cabin, for +a new tenant was coming into it; that she was too young to +have a house to herself, and that the only thing she had to do +was to get some neighbour to take her and her brother and +her sisters in for charity's sake.</p> + +<p>The driver finished by hinting that she would not be so +hardly used if she had not brought upon herself the ill-will of +Miss Alice, the agent's daughter. Mary, it is true, had refused +to give Miss Alice a goat upon which she had set her fancy; +but this was the only offence of which she had been guilty, and +at the time she refused it her mother wanted the goat's milk, +which was the only thing she then liked to drink.</p> + +<p>Mary went immediately to Mr. Hopkins, the agent, to pay +her rent; and she begged of him to let her stay another year +in her cabin; but this he refused. It was now September 25th, +and he said that the new tenant must come in on the 29th, so +that she must quit it directly. Mary could not bear the +thoughts of begging any of the neighbours to take her and her +brother and sisters in <i>for charity's sake</i>; for the neighbours +were all poor enough themselves. So she bethought herself +that she might find shelter in the ruins of the old castle of +Rossmore, where she and her brother, in better times, had often +played at hide and seek. The kitchen and two other rooms +near it were yet covered in tolerably well; and a little thatch, +she thought, would make them comfortable through the winter. +The agent consented to let her and her brother and sisters go +in there, upon her paying him half a guinea in hand, and +promising to pay the same yearly.</p> + +<p>Into these lodgings the orphans now removed, taking with +them two bedsteads, a stool, chair, and a table, a sort of press, +which contained what little clothes they had, and a chest in +which they had two hundred of meal. The chest was carried +for them by some of the charitable neighbours, who likewise +added to their scanty stock of potatoes and turf what would +make it last through the winter.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[8]</span></p> +<p>These children were well thought of and pitied, because +their mother was known to have been all her life honest and +industrious. 'Sure,' says one of the neighbours, 'we can do +no less than give a helping hand to the poor orphans, that are +so ready to help themselves.' So one helped to thatch the +room in which they were to sleep, and another took their cow +to graze upon his bit of land on condition of having half the +milk; and one and all said they should be welcome to take +share of their potatoes and buttermilk if they should find their +own ever fall short.</p> + +<p>The half-guinea which Mr. Hopkins, the agent, required for +letting Mary into the castle was part of what she had to pay +to the schoolmistress, to whom above a guinea was due. Mary +went to her, and took her goat along with her, and offered it +in part of payment of the debt, but the schoolmistress would +not receive the goat. She said that she could afford to wait +for her money till Mary was able to pay it; that she knew her +to be an honest, industrious little girl, and she would trust her +with more than a guinea. Mary thanked her; and she was +glad to take the goat home again, as she was very fond of it.</p> + +<p>Being now settled in their house, they went every day +regularly to work; Mary spun nine cuts a day, besides doing +all that was to be done in the house; Edmund got fourpence a +day by his work; and Peggie and Annie earned twopence +apiece at the paper-mills near Navan, where they were employed +to sort rags and to cut them into small pieces.</p> + +<p>When they had done work one day, Annie went to the +master of the paper-mill and asked him if she might have two +sheets of large white paper which were lying on the press. +She offered a penny for the paper; but the master would not +take anything from her, but gave her the paper when he found +that she wanted it to make a garland for her mother's grave. +Annie and Peggy cut out the garland, and Mary, when it was +finished, went along with them and Edmund to put it up. It +was just a month after their mother's death.</p> + +<p>It happened, at the time the orphans were putting up this +garland, that two young ladies, who were returning home after +their evening walk, stopped at the gate of the churchyard to +look at the red light which the setting sun cast upon the window +of the church. As the ladies were standing at the gate, they +heard a voice near them crying, 'O mother! mother! are you<span class="pagenum">[9]</span> +gone for ever?' They could not see any one; so they walked +softly round to the other side of the church, and there they saw +Mary kneeling beside a grave, on which her brother and +sisters were hanging their white garlands.</p> + +<p>The children all stood still when they saw the two ladies +passing near them; but Mary did not know anybody was +passing, for her face was hid in her hands.</p> + +<p>Isabella and Caroline (so these ladies were called) would +not disturb the poor children; but they stopped in the village +to inquire about them. It was at the house of the schoolmistress +that they stopped, and she gave them a good account +of these orphans. She particularly commended Mary's honesty, +in having immediately paid all her mother's debts to the +utmost farthing, as far as her money would go. She told the +ladies how Mary had been turned out of her house, and how +she had offered her goat, of which she was very fond, to discharge +a debt due for her schooling; and, in short, the schoolmistress, +who had known Mary for several years, spoke so well +of her that these ladies resolved that they would go to the old +castle of Rossmore to see her the next day.</p> + +<p>When they went there, they found the room in which the +children lived as clean and neat as such a ruined place could +be made. Edmund was out working with a farmer, Mary was +spinning, and her little sisters were measuring out some bogberries, +of which they had gathered a basketful, for sale. +Isabella, after telling Mary what an excellent character she +had heard of her, inquired what it was she most wanted; and +Mary said that she had just worked up all her flax, and she +was most in want of more flax for her wheel.</p> + +<p>Isabella promised that she would send her a fresh supply +of flax, and Caroline bought the bogberries from the little +girls, and gave them money enough to buy a pound of coarse +cotton for knitting, as Mary said that she could teach them how +to knit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i004f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i004t.jpg" alt="i004t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>Inquired what it was she most wanted.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>The supply of flax, which Isabella sent the next day, was of +great service to Mary, as it kept her in employment for above +a month; and when she sold the yarn which she had spun +with it, she had money enough to buy some warm flannel for +winter wear. Besides spinning well, she had learned at school +to do plain work tolerably neatly, and Isabella and Caroline +employed her to work for them; by which she earned a great +<span class="pagenum">[11]</span>deal more than she could by spinning. At her leisure hours +she taught her sisters to read and write; and Edmund, with +part of the money which he earned by his work out of doors, +paid a schoolmaster for teaching him a little arithmetic. +When the winter nights came on, he used to light his rush +candles for Mary to work by. He had gathered and stripped +a good provision of rushes in the month of August, and a +neighbour gave him grease to dip them in.</p> + +<p>One evening, just as he had lighted his candle, a footman +came in, who was sent by Isabella with some plain work to +Mary. This servant was an Englishman, and he was but +newly come over to Ireland. The rush candles caught his +attention; for he had never seen any of them before, as he +came from a part of England where they were not used. +Edmund, who was ready to oblige, and proud that his candles +were noticed, showed the Englishman how they were made, +and gave him a bundle of rushes.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">2</a></p> + +<p>The servant was pleased with his good nature in this trifling +instance, and remembered it long after it was forgotten by +Edmund. Whenever his master wanted to send a messenger +anywhere, Gilbert (for that was the servant's name) always +employed his little friend Edmund, whom, upon further +acquaintance, he liked better and better. He found that +Edmund was both quick and exact in executing commissions.</p> + +<p>One day, after he had waited a great while at a gentleman's +house for an answer to a letter, he was so impatient to get +home that he ran off without it. When he was questioned by +<span class="pagenum">[12]</span>Gilbert why he did not bring an answer, he did not attempt to +make any excuse; he did not say, '<i>There was no answer, +please your honour</i>' or, '<i>They bid me not wait</i>' etc.; but he +told exactly the truth; and though Gilbert scolded him for +being so impatient as not to wait, yet his telling the truth was +more to the boy's advantage than any excuse he could have +made. After this he was always believed when he said, +'<i>There was no answer</i>' or, '<i>They bid me not wait</i>'; for +Gilbert knew that he would not tell a lie to save himself from +being scolded.</p> + +<p>The orphans continued to assist one another in their work +according to their strength and abilities; and they went on in +this manner for three years. With what Mary got by her +spinning and plain work, and Edmund by leading of carthorses, +going on errands, etc., and with little Peggy and Anne's +earnings, the family contrived to live comfortably. Isabella +and Caroline often visited them, and sometimes gave them +clothes, and sometimes flax or cotton for their spinning and +knitting; and these children did not <i>expect</i> that, because the +ladies did something for them, they should do everything. +They did not grow idle or wasteful.</p> + +<p>When Edmund was about twelve years old, his friend +Gilbert sent for him one day, and told him that his master had +given him leave to have a boy in the house to assist him, and +that his master told him he might choose one in the neighbourhood. +Several were anxious to get into such a good place; +but Gilbert said that he preferred Edmund before them all, +because he knew him to be an industrious, honest, good-natured +lad, who always told the truth. So Edmund went +into service at <i>the vicarage</i>; and his master was the father of +Isabella and Caroline. He found his new way of life very +pleasant; for he was well fed, well clothed, and well treated; +and he every day learned more of his business, in which at +first he was rather awkward. He was mindful to do all that +Mr. Gilbert required of him; and he was so obliging to all his +fellow-servants that they could not help liking him. But there +was one thing which was at first rather disagreeable to him: +he was obliged to wear shoes and stockings, and they hurt his +feet. Besides this, when he waited at dinner he made such a +noise in walking that his fellow-servants laughed at him. He +told his sister Mary of his distress, and she made for him, after<span class="pagenum">[13]</span> +many trials, a pair of cloth shoes, with soles of platted hemp.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> +In these he could walk without making the least noise; and +as these shoes could not be worn out of doors, he was always +sure to change them before he went out; and consequently he +had always clean shoes to wear in the house.</p> + +<p>It was soon remarked by the men-servants that he had left +off clumping so heavily, and it was observed by the maids that +he never dirtied the stairs or passages with his shoes. When +he was praised for these things, he said it was his sister Mary +who should be thanked, and not he; and he showed the shoes +which she had made for him.</p> + +<p>Isabella's maid bespoke a pair immediately, and sent Mary +a piece of pretty calico for the outside. The last-maker made +a last for her, and over this Mary sewed the calico vamps +tight. Her brother advised her to try platted packthread +instead of hemp for the soles; and she found that this looked +more neat than the hemp soles, and was likely to last longer. +She platted the packthread together in strands of about half +an inch thick, and these were sewed firmly together at the +bottom of the shoe. When they were finished they fitted well, +and the maid showed them to her mistress.</p> + +<p>Isabella and Caroline were so well pleased with Mary's +ingenuity and kindness to her brother, that they bespoke from +her two dozen of these shoes, and gave her three yards of +coloured fustian to make them of, and galloon for the binding. +When the shoes were completed, Isabella and Caroline disposed +of them for her amongst their acquaintance, and got +three shillings a pair for them. The young ladies, as soon as +they had collected the money, walked to the old castle, where +they found everything neat and clean as usual. They had +great pleasure in giving to this industrious girl the reward of +her ingenuity, which she received with some surprise and more +gratitude. They advised her to continue the shoemaking +trade, as they found the shoes were liked, and they knew that +they could have a sale for them at the <i>Repository</i> in Dublin.</p> + +<p>Mary, encouraged by these kind friends, went on with her +little manufacture with increased activity. Peggy and Anne +platted the packthread, and basted the vamps and linings +together ready for her. Edmund was allowed to come home +<span class="pagenum">[14]</span>for an hour every morning, provided he was back again before +eight o'clock. It was summer time, and he got up early, +because he liked to go home to see his sisters, and he took his +share in the manufactory. It was his business to hammer the +soles flat; and as soon as he came home every morning he +performed his task with so much cheerfulness, and sang so +merrily at his work, that the hour of his arrival was always an +hour of joy to the family.</p> + +<p>Mary had presently employment enough upon her hands. +Orders came to her for shoes from many families in the +neighbourhood, and she could not get them finished fast +enough. She, however, in the midst of her hurry, found time +to make a very pretty pair, with neat roses, as a present for +her schoolmistress, who, now that she saw her pupil in a good +way of business, consented to receive the amount of her old +debt. Several of the children who went to her school were +delighted with the sight of Mary's present, and went to the +little manufactory at Rossmore Castle, to find out how these +shoes were made. Some went from curiosity, others from +idleness; but when they saw how happy the little shoemakers +seemed whilst busy at work, they longed to take some share in +what was going forward. One begged Mary to let her plat +some packthread for the soles; another helped Peggy and +Anne to baste in the linings; and all who could get employment +were pleased, for the idle ones were shoved out of the +way. It became a custom with the children of the village to +resort to the old castle at their play hours; and it was surprising +to see how much was done by ten or twelve of them, +each doing but a little at a time.</p> + +<p>One morning Edmund and the little manufacturers were +assembled very early, and they were busy at their work, all +sitting round the meal chest, which served them for a table.</p> + +<p>'My hands must be washed,' said George, a little boy who +came running in; 'I ran so fast that I might be in time, to go +to work along with you all, that I tumbled down, and look how +I have dirtied my hands. Most haste worst speed. My +hands must be washed before I can do anything.'</p> + +<p>Whilst George was washing his hands, two other little +children, who had just finished their morning's work, came to +him to beg that he would blow some soap bubbles for them, +and they were all three eagerly blowing bubbles, and watching<span class="pagenum">[15]</span> +them mount into the air, when suddenly they were startled by +a noise as loud as thunder. They were in a sort of outer +court of the castle, next to the room in which all their companions +were at work, and they ran precipitately into the +room, exclaiming, 'Did you hear that noise?'</p> + +<p>'I thought I heard a clap of thunder,' said Mary, 'but why +do you look so frightened?'</p> + +<p>As she finished speaking, another and a louder noise, and +the walls round about them shook. The children turned pale +and stood motionless; but Edmund threw down his hammer +and ran out to see what was the matter. Mary followed him, +and they saw that a great chimney of the old ruins at the +farthest side of the castle had fallen down, and this was the +cause of the prodigious noise.</p> + +<p>The part of the castle in which they lived seemed, as +Edmund said, to be perfectly safe; but the children of the +village were terrified, and thinking that the whole would come +tumbling down directly, they ran to their homes as fast as +they could. Edmund, who was a courageous lad, and proud +of showing his courage, laughed at their cowardice; but +Mary, who was very prudent, persuaded her brother to ask +an experienced mason, who was building at his master's, to +come and give his opinion whether their part of the castle +was safe to live in or not. The mason came, and gave it as +his opinion that the rooms they inhabited might last through +the winter, but that no part of the ruins could stand another +year. Mary was sorry to leave a place of which she had +grown fond, poor as it was, having lived in it in peace and +contentment ever since her mother's death, which was now +nearly four years; but she determined to look out for some +other place to live in; and she had now money enough to +pay the rent of a comfortable cabin. Without losing any +time, she went to the village that was at the end of the +avenue leading to <i>the vicarage</i>, for she wished to get a +lodging in this village because it was so near to her brother, +and to the ladies who had been so kind to her. She found +that there was one newly built house in this village unoccupied; +it belonged to Mr. Harvey, her landlord, who was +still in England; it was slated, and neatly fitted up inside; +but the rent of it was six guineas a year, and this was far +above what Mary could afford to pay. Three guineas a year<span class="pagenum">[16]</span> +she thought was the highest rent for which she could venture +to engage. Besides, she heard that several proposals had +been made to Mr. Harvey for this house, and she knew that +Mr. Hopkins, the agent, was not her friend; therefore she +despaired of getting it. There was no other to be had in +this village. Her brother was still more vexed than she was, +that she could not find a place near him. He offered to give +a guinea yearly towards the rent out of his wages; and Mr. +Gilbert spoke about it for him to the steward, and inquired +whether, amongst any of those who had given in proposals, +there might not be one who would be content with a part of +the house, and who would join with Mary in paying the rent. +None could be found but a woman who was a great scold, +and a man who was famous for going to law about every trifle +with his neighbours. Mary did not choose to have anything +to do with these people. She did not like to speak either to +Miss Isabella or Caroline about it, because she was not of an +encroaching temper; and when they had done so much for +her, she would have been ashamed to beg for more. She +returned home to the old castle, mortified that she had no +good news to tell Anne and Peggy, who she knew expected +to hear that she had found a nice house for them in the +village near their brother.</p> + +<p>'Bad news for you, Peggy,' cried she, as soon as she got +home. 'And bad news for you, Mary,' replied her sisters, +who looked very sorrowful. 'What's the matter?' 'Your +poor goat is dead,' replied Peggy. 'There she is, yonder, +lying under the great corner stone; you can just see her leg. +We cannot lift the stone from off her, it is so heavy. Betsy +(<i>one of the neighbour's girls</i>) says she remembers, when she +came to us to work early this morning, she saw the goat +rubbing itself and butting with its horns against that old +tottering chimney.'</p> + +<p>'Many's the time,' said Mary, 'that I have driven the poor +thing away from that place; I was always afraid she would +shake that great ugly stone down upon her at last.'</p> + +<p>The goat, who had long been the favourite of Mary and her +sisters, was lamented by them all. When Edmund came, he +helped them to move the great stone from off the poor animal, +who was crushed so as to be a terrible sight. As they were +moving away this stone in order to bury the goat, Anne found<span class="pagenum">[17]</span> +an odd-looking piece of money, which seemed neither like a +halfpenny, nor a shilling, nor a guinea.</p> + +<p>'Here are more, a great many more of them,' cried Peggy; +and upon searching amongst the rubbish, they discovered a +small iron pot, which seemed as if it had been filled with +these coins, as a vast number of them were found about the +spot where it fell. On examining these coins, Edmund +thought that several of them looked like gold, and the girls +exclaimed with great joy—'O Mary! Mary! this is come +to us just in right time—now you can pay for the slated house. +Never was anything so lucky!'</p> + +<p>But Mary, though nothing could have pleased her better +than to have been able to pay for the house, observed that +they could not honestly touch any of this treasure, as it +belonged to the owner of the castle. Edmund agreed with +her that they ought to carry it all immediately to Mr. Hopkins, +the agent. Peggy and Anne were convinced by what Mary +said, and they begged to go along with her and her brother, +to take the coins to Mr. Hopkins. On their way they stopped +at the vicarage, to show the treasure to Mr. Gilbert, who took +it to the young ladies, Isabella and Caroline, and told them +how it had been found.</p> + +<p>It is not only by their superior riches, but it is yet more +by their superior knowledge, that persons in the higher rank of +life may assist those in a lower condition.</p> + +<p>Isabella, who had some knowledge of chemistry, discovered, +by touching the coins with nitric acid, that several of them +were of gold, and consequently of great value. Caroline also +found out that many of the coins were very valuable as +curiosities. She recollected her father's having shown to her +the prints of the coins at the end of each king's reign in +Rapin's <i>History of England</i>; and upon comparing these +impressions with the coins found by the orphans, she perceived +that many of them were of the reign of Henry the +Seventh, which, from their scarcity, were highly appreciated +by numismatic collectors.</p> + +<p>Isabella and Caroline, knowing something of the character +of Mr. Hopkins, the agent, had the precaution to count the +coins, and to mark each of them with a cross, so small that it +was scarcely visible to the naked eye, though it was easily to +be seen through a magnifying glass. They also begged that<span class="pagenum">[18]</span> +their father, who was well acquainted with Mr. Harvey, the +gentleman to whom Rossmore Castle belonged, would write to +him, and tell him how well these orphans had behaved about +the treasure which they had found. The value of the coins +was estimated at about thirty or forty guineas.</p> + +<p>A few days after the fall of the chimney at Rossmore Castle, +as Mary and her sisters were sitting at their work, there came +hobbling in an old woman, leaning on a crab stick that seemed +to have been newly cut. She had a broken tobacco-pipe in +her mouth; her head was wrapped up in two large red and +blue handkerchiefs, with their crooked corners hanging far +down over the back of her neck, no shoes on her broad feet, +nor stockings on her many-coloured legs. Her petticoat was +jagged at the bottom, and the skirt of her gown turned up over +her shoulders to serve instead of a cloak, which she had sold +for whisky. This old woman was well known amongst the +country people by the name of <i>Goody Grope</i>;<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> because she +had for many years been in the habit of groping in old castles +and in moats,<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> and at the bottom of a round tower<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> in the +neighbourhood, in search of treasure. In her youth she had +heard some one talking in a whisper of an old prophecy, found +in a bog, which said that before many</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width:32em"> +<p class="noin"> +St. Patrick's days should come about,<br /> +There would be found<br /> +A treasure under ground,<br /> +By one within twenty miles around. +</p> +</div> + +<p>This prophecy made a deep impression upon her. She +also dreamed of it three times: and as the dream, she thought, +was a sure token that the prophecy was to come true, she, from +that time forwards, gave up her spinning-wheel and her +knitting, and could think of nothing but hunting for the +treasure that was to be found by one '<i>within twenty miles +round</i>.'</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[19]</span></p> +<p>Year after year St. Patrick's day came about without her +ever finding a farthing by all her groping; and, as she was +always idle, she grew poorer and poorer; besides, to comfort +herself for her disappointments, and to give her spirits for +fresh searches, she took to drinking. She sold all she had by +degrees; but still she fancied that the lucky day would come, +sooner or later, <i>that would pay for all</i>.</p> + +<p>Goody Grope, however, reached her sixtieth year without +ever seeing this lucky day; and now, in her old age, she was +a beggar, without a house to shelter her, a bed to lie on, or +food to put into her mouth, but what she begged from the +charity of those who had trusted more than she had to industry +and less to <i>luck</i>.</p> + +<p>'Ah, Mary, honey! give me a potato and a sup of something, +for the love o' mercy; for not a bit have I had all day, +except half a glass of whisky and a halfpenny-worth of tobacco!'</p> + +<p>Mary immediately set before her some milk, and picked a +good potato out of the bowl for her. She was sorry to see +such an old woman in such a wretched condition. Goody +Grope said she would rather have spirits of some kind or other +than milk; but Mary had no spirits to give her; so she sat +herself down close to the fire, and after she had sighed and +groaned and smoked for some time, she said to Mary, 'Well, +and what have you done with the treasure you had the luck to +find?' Mary told her that she had carried it to Mr. Hopkins, +the agent.</p> + +<p>'That's not what I would have done in your place,' replied +the old woman. 'When good luck came to you, what a shame +to turn your back upon it! But it is idle talking of what's +done—that's past; but I'll try my luck in this here castle +before next St. Patrick's day comes about. I was told it was +more than twenty miles from our bog, or I would have been +here long ago; but better late than never.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i005f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i005t.jpg" alt="i005t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption">'<i>Well, and what have you done with the treasure you had the luck to find?</i>'</p> +</div> + +<p>Mary was much alarmed, and not without reason, at this +speech; for she knew that if Goody Grope once set to work at +the foundation of the old castle of Rossmore, she would soon +bring it all down. It was in vain to talk to Goody Grope of +the danger of burying herself under the ruins, or of the improbability +of her meeting with another pot of gold coins. +She set her elbow upon her knees, and stopping her ears with +her hands, bid Mary and her sisters not to waste their breath +<span class="pagenum">[21]</span>advising their elders; for that, let them say what they would, +she would fall to work the next morning, '<i>barring</i> you'll make +it worth my while to let it alone.'</p> + +<p>'And what will make it worth your while to let it alone?' +said Mary; for she saw that she must either get into a quarrel +or give up her habitation, or comply with the conditions of +this provoking old woman.</p> + +<p>Half a crown, Goody Grope said, was the least she could be +content to take. Mary paid the half-crown, and was in hopes +that she had got rid for ever of her tormentor, but she was +mistaken, for scarcely was the week at an end before the old +woman appeared before her again, and repeated her threats of +falling to work the next morning, unless she had something +given to her to buy tobacco.</p> + +<p>The next day and the next, and the next, Goody Grope +came on the same errand, and poor Mary, who could ill afford +to supply her constantly with halfpence, at last exclaimed, 'I am +sure the finding of this treasure has not been any good luck +to us, but quite the contrary; and I wish we never had found it.'</p> + +<p>Mary did not yet know how much she was to suffer on +account of this unfortunate pot of gold coins. Mr. Hopkins, +the agent, imagined that no one knew of the discovery of this +treasure but himself and these poor children; so, not being as +honest as they were, he resolved to keep it for his own use. +He was surprised some weeks afterwards to receive a letter +from his employer, Mr. Harvey, demanding from him the coins +which had been discovered at Rossmore Castle. Hopkins +had sold the gold coins, and some of the others; and he +flattered himself that the children, and the young ladies, to +whom he now found they had been shown, could not tell +whether what they had seen were gold or not, and he was not in +the least apprehensive that those of Henry the Seventh's reign +should be reclaimed from him as he thought they had escaped +attention. So he sent over the silver coins and others of little +value, and apologised for his not having mentioned them +before, by saying that he considered them as mere rubbish.</p> + +<p>Mr. Harvey, in reply, observed that he could not consider +as rubbish the gold coins which were amongst them when they +were discovered; and he inquired why these gold coins, and those +of the reign of Henry the Seventh, were not now sent to him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Hopkins denied that he had ever received any such;<span class="pagenum">[22]</span> +but he was thunderstruck when Mr. Harvey, in reply to this +falsehood, sent him a list of the coins which the orphans had +deposited with him, and exact drawings of those that were +missing. He informed him that this list and these drawings +came from two ladies who had seen the coins in question.</p> + +<p>Mr. Hopkins thought that he had no means of escape but +by boldly persisting in falsehood. He replied, that it was very +likely such coins had been found at Rossmore Castle, and that +the ladies alluded to had probably seen them; but he positively +declared that they never came to his hands; that he had +restored all that were deposited with him; and that, as to the +others, he supposed they must have been taken out of the pot +by the children, or by Edmund or Mary on their way from the +ladies' house to his.</p> + +<p>The orphans were shocked and astonished when they heard, +from Isabella and Caroline, the charge that was made against +them. They looked at one another in silence for some +moments. Then Peggy exclaimed—'<i>Sure!</i> Mr. Hopkins has +forgotten himself strangely. Does not he remember Edmund's +counting the things to him upon the great table in his hall, +and we all standing by? I remember it as well as if it was +this instant.'</p> + +<p>'And so do I,' cried Anne. 'And don't you recollect, +Mary, your picking out the gold ones, and telling Mr. Hopkins +that they were gold; and he said you knew nothing of the +matter; and I was going to tell him that Miss Isabella had +tried them, and knew that they were gold? but just then there +came in some tenants to pay their rent, and he pushed us out, +and twitched from my hand the piece of gold which I had +taken up to show him the bright spot which Miss Isabella had +cleaned by the stuff that she had poured on it? I believe he +was afraid I should steal it; he twitched it from my hand in +such a hurry. Do, Edmund; do, Mary—let us go to him, +and put him in mind of all this.' 'I'll go to him no more,' +said Edmund sturdily. 'He is a bad man—I'll never go to +him again. Mary, don't be cast down—we have no need to +be cast down—we are honest.' 'True,' said Mary; 'but is +not it a hard case that we, who have lived, as my mother did +all her life before us, in peace and honesty with all the world, +should now have our good name taken from us, when——' Mary's +voice faltered and stopped. 'It can't be taken from<span class="pagenum">[23]</span> +us,' cried Edmund, 'poor orphans though we are, and he a +rich gentleman, as he calls himself. Let him say and do what +he will, he can't hurt our good name.'</p> + +<p>Edmund was mistaken, alas! and Mary had but too much +reason for her fears. The affair was a great deal talked of; +and the agent spared no pains to have the story told his own +way. The orphans, conscious of their own innocence, took no +pains about the matter; and the consequence was, that all +who knew them well had no doubt of their honesty; but many, +who knew nothing of them, concluded that the agent must be +in the right and the children in the wrong. The buzz of +scandal went on for some time without reaching their ears, +because they lived very retiredly. But one day, when Mary +went to sell some stockings of Peggy's knitting at the neighbouring +fair, the man to whom she sold them bid her write her +name on the back of a note, and exclaimed, on seeing it—'Ho! +ho! mistress; I'd not have had any dealings with you, +had I known your name sooner. Where's the gold that you +found at Rossmore Castle?'</p> + +<p>It was in vain that Mary related the fact. She saw that +she gained no belief, as her character was not known to this +man, or to any of those who were present. She left the fair +as soon as she could; and though she struggled against it, she +felt very melancholy. Still she exerted herself every day at +her little manufacture; and she endeavoured to console herself +by reflecting that she had two friends left who would not give +up her character, and who continued steadily to protect her +and her sisters.</p> + +<p>Isabella and Caroline everywhere asserted their belief in the +integrity of the orphans, but to prove it was in this instance out +of their power. Mr. Hopkins, the agent, and his friends, constantly +repeated that the gold coins were taken away in coming +from their house to his; and these ladies were blamed by many +people for continuing to countenance those that were, with +great reason, suspected to be thieves. The orphans were in a +worse condition than ever when the winter came on, and their +benefactresses left the country to spend some months in +Dublin. The old castle, it was true, was likely to last through +the winter, as the mason said; but though the want of a comfortable +house to live in was, a little while ago, the uppermost +thing in Mary's thoughts, now it was not so.<span class="pagenum">[24]</span></p> + +<p>One night, as Mary was going to bed, she heard some one +knocking hard at the door. 'Mary, are you up? let us in,' +cried a voice, which she knew to be the voice of Betsy Green, +the postmaster's daughter, who lived in the village near them.</p> + +<p>She let Betsy in, and asked what she could want at such a +time of night.</p> + +<p>'Give me sixpence, and I'll tell you,' said Betsy; 'but +waken Anne and Peggy. Here's a letter just come by post +for you, and I stepped over to you with it; because I guessed +you'd be glad to have it, seeing it is your brother's handwriting.'</p> + +<p>Peggy and Anne were soon roused, when they heard that +there was a letter from Edmund. It was by one of his rush +candles that Mary read it; and the letter was as follows:—</p> +<br /> + +<p>'<span class="smcap">Dear Mary, Nancy, and little Peg</span>—Joy! joy!—I +always said the truth would come out at last; and that he +could not take our good name from us. But I will not tell +you how it all came about till we meet, which will be next +week, as we are (I mean, master and mistress, and the young +ladies—bless them!—and Mr. Gilbert and I) coming down to +the vicarage to keep Christmas; and a happy Christmas 'tis +likely to be for honest folks. As for they that are not honest, +it is not for them to expect to be happy, at Christmas, or any +other time. You shall know all when we meet. So, till then, +fare ye well, dear Mary, Nancy, and little Peg.—Your joyful +and affectionate brother, <span class="smcap" style="float : right">Edmund.'</span></p> + +<br /> +<p>To comprehend why Edmund is joyful, our readers must be +informed of certain things which happened after Isabella and +Caroline went to Dublin. One morning they went with their +father and mother to see the magnificent library of a nobleman, +who took generous and polite pleasure in thus sharing the +advantages of his wealth and station with all who had any pretensions +to science or literature. Knowing that the gentleman +who was now come to see his library was skilled in antiquities, +the nobleman opened a drawer of medals, to ask his opinion +concerning the age of some coins, which he had lately purchased +at a high price. They were the very same which the orphans +had found at Rossmore Castle. Isabella and Caroline knew +them again instantly; and as the cross which Isabella had<span class="pagenum">[25]</span> +made on each of them was still visible through a magnifying +glass, there could be no possibility of doubt.</p> + +<p>The nobleman, who was much interested both by the story +of these orphans, and the manner in which it was told to him, +sent immediately for the person from whom he had purchased +the coins. He was a Jew broker. At first he refused to tell +them from whom he got them, because he had bought them, he +said, under a promise of secrecy. Being further pressed, he +acknowledged that it was made a condition in his bargain that +he should not sell them to any one in Ireland, but that he had +been tempted by the high price the present noble possessor +had offered.</p> + +<p>At last, when the Jew was informed that the coins were +stolen, and that he would be proceeded against as a receiver +of stolen goods if he did not confess the whole truth, he +declared that he had purchased them from a gentleman, whom +he had never seen before or since; but he added that he could +swear to his person, if he saw him again.</p> + +<p>Now, Mr. Hopkins, the agent, was at this time in Dublin, +and Caroline's father posted the Jew, the next day, in the +back-parlour of a banker's house, with whom Mr. Hopkins had, +on this day, appointed to settle some accounts. Mr. Hopkins +came—the Jew knew him—swore that he was the man who +had sold the coins to him; and thus the guilt of the agent and +the innocence of the orphans were completely proved.</p> + +<p>A full account of all that happened was sent to England to +Mr. Harvey, their landlord, and a few posts afterwards there +came a letter from him, containing a dismissal of the dishonest +agent, and a reward for the honest and industrious orphans. +Mr. Harvey desired that Mary and her sisters might have the +slated house, rent-free, from this time forward, under the care +of ladies Isabella and Caroline, as long as Mary or her sisters +should carry on in it any useful business. This was the joyful +news which Edmund had to tell his sisters.</p> + +<p>All the neighbours shared in their joy, and the day of their +removal from the ruins of Rossmore Castle to their new house +was the happiest of the Christmas holidays. They were not +envied for their prosperity; because everybody saw that it was +the reward of their good conduct; everybody except Goody +Grope. She exclaimed, as she wrung her hands with violent +expressions of sorrow—'Bad luck to me! bad luck to me! +<span class="pagenum">[26]</span>—Why didn't I go sooner to that there Castle? It is all luck, +all luck in this world; but I never had no luck. Think of the +luck of these <i>childer</i>, that have found a pot of gold, and such +great, grand friends, and a slated house, and all: and here am +I, with scarce a rag to cover me, and not a potato to put into +my mouth!—I, that have been looking under ground all my +days for treasure, not to have a halfpenny at the last, to buy +me tobacco!'</p> + +<p>'That is the very reason that you have not a halfpenny,' +said Betsy. 'Here Mary has been working hard, and so have +her two little sisters and her brother, for these five years past; +and they have made money for themselves by their own +industry—and friends too—not by luck, but by——'</p> + +<p>'Phoo! phoo!' interrupted Goody Grope; 'don't be +prating; don't I know as well as you do that they found a +pot of gold, <i>by good luck</i>? and is not that the cause why they +are going to live in a slated house now?'</p> + +<p>'No,' replied the postmaster's daughter; 'this house is +given to them <i>as a reward</i>—that was the word in the letter; +for I saw it. Edmund showed it to me, and will show it to +any one that wants to see. This house was given to them "<i>as +a reward for their honesty</i>."'</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[27]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="LAZY_LAWRENCE" id="LAZY_LAWRENCE"></a>LAZY LAWRENCE</h2> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">In</span> the pleasant valley of Ashton there lived an elderly woman +of the name of Preston. She had a small neat cottage, and +there was not a weed to be seen in her garden. It was upon +her garden that she chiefly depended for support; it consisted +of strawberry beds, and one small border for flowers. The +pinks and roses she tied up in nice nosegays, and sent either +to Clifton or Bristol to be sold. As to her strawberries, she +did not send them to market, because it was the custom for +numbers of people to come from Clifton, in the summer time, +to eat strawberries and cream at the gardens in Ashton.</p> + +<p>Now, the widow Preston was so obliging, active, and good-humoured, +that every one who came to see her was pleased. +She lived happily in this manner for several years; but, alas! +one autumn she fell sick, and, during her illness, everything +went wrong; her garden was neglected, her cow died, and all +the money which she had saved was spent in paying for +medicines. The winter passed away, while she was so weak +that she could earn but little by her work; and when the +summer came, her rent was called for, and the rent was not +ready in her little purse as usual. She begged a few months' +delay, and they were granted to her; but at the end of that +time there was no resource but to sell her horse Lightfoot. +Now Lightfoot, though perhaps he had seen his best days, was +a very great favourite. In his youth he had always carried +the dame to the market behind her husband; and it was now +her little son Jem's turn to ride him. It was Jem's business +to feed Lightfoot, and to take care of him—a charge which he +never neglected, for, besides being a very good-natured, he +was a very industrious boy.<span class="pagenum">[28]</span></p> + +<p>'It will go near to break my Jem's heart,' said Dame +Preston to herself, as she sat one evening beside the fire +stirring the embers, and considering how she had best open +the matter to her son, who stood opposite to her, eating a dry +crust of bread very heartily for supper.</p> + +<p>'Jem,' said the old woman, 'what, art hungry?' 'That I +am, brave and hungry!'</p> + +<p>'Ay! no wonder, you've been brave hard at work—Eh?' +'Brave hard! I wish it was not so dark, mother, that you +might just step out and see the great bed I've dug; I know +you'd say it was no bad day's work—and oh, mother! I've +good news: Farmer Truck will give us the giant strawberries, +and I'm to go for 'em to-morrow morning, and I'll be back +afore breakfast.'</p> + +<p>'God bless the boy! how he talks!—Four mile there, and +four mile back again, afore breakfast.' 'Ay, upon Lightfoot, +you know, mother, very easily; mayn't I?' 'Ay, child!' +'Why do you sigh, mother?' 'Finish thy supper, child.' +'I've done!' cried Jem, swallowing the last mouthful hastily, +as if he thought he had been too long at supper—'and now +for the great needle; I must see and mend Lightfoot's bridle +afore I go to bed.'</p> + +<p>To work he set, by the light of the fire, and the dame +having once more stirred it, began again with 'Jem, dear, +does he go lame at all now?' 'What, Lightfoot! Oh la, +no, not he!—never was so well of his lameness in all his life. +He's grown quite young again, I think, and then he's so fat +he can hardly wag.' 'God bless him—that's right. We must +see, Jem, and keep him fat.' 'For what, mother!' 'For +Monday fortnight at the fair. He's to be—sold!' 'Lightfoot!' +cried Jem, and let the bridle fall from his hand; 'and <i>will</i> +mother sell Lightfoot?' '<i>Will</i>? no: but I <i>must</i>, Jem.' +'Must! who says you <i>must</i>? why <i>must</i> you, mother?' 'I +must, I say, child. Why, must not I pay my debts honestly; +and must not I pay my rent, and was not it called for long and +long ago; and have not I had time; and did not I promise +to pay it for certain Monday fortnight, and am not I two +guineas short; and where am I to get two guineas? So what +signifies talking, child?' said the widow, leaning her head +upon her arm. 'Lightfoot <i>must</i> go.'</p> + +<p>Jem was silent for a few minutes—'Two guineas, that's a<span class="pagenum">[29]</span> +great, great deal. If I worked, and worked, and worked +ever so hard, I could no ways earn two guineas <i>afore</i> Monday +fortnight—could I, mother?' 'Lord help thee, no; not an' +work thyself to death.' 'But I could earn something, though, +I say,' cried Jem proudly; 'and I <i>will</i> earn <i>something</i>—if it +be ever so little, it will be <i>something</i>—and I shall do my very +best; so I will.' 'That I'm sure of, my child,' said his +mother, drawing him towards her and kissing him; 'you +were always a good, industrious lad, <i>that</i> I will say afore your +face or behind your back;—but it won't do now—Lightfoot +<i>must</i> go.'</p> + +<p>Jem turned away struggling to hide his tears, and went to +bed without saying a word more. But he knew that crying +would do no good; so he presently wiped his eyes, and lay +awake, considering what he could possibly do to save the +horse. 'If I get ever so little,' he still said to himself, 'it +will be <i>something</i>, and who knows but landlord might then +wait a bit longer? and we might make it all up in time; +for a penny a day might come to two guineas in time.'</p> + +<p>But how to get the first penny was the question. Then +he recollected that one day, when he had been sent to Clifton +to sell some flowers, he had seen an old woman with a board +beside her covered with various sparkling stones, which people +stopped to look at as they passed, and he remembered that +some people bought the stones; one paid twopence, another +threepence, and another sixpence for them; and Jem heard +her say that she got them amongst the neighbouring rocks: +so he thought that if he tried he might find some too, and sell +them as she had done.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning he wakened full of this scheme, +jumped up, dressed himself, and, having given one look at +poor Lightfoot in his stable, set off to Clifton in search of the +old woman, to inquire where she found her sparkling stones. +But it was too early in the morning, the old woman was not at +her seat; so he turned back again, disappointed. He did not +waste his time waiting for her, but saddled and bridled Lightfoot, +and went to Farmer Truck's for the giant strawberries.</p> + +<p>A great part of the morning was spent in putting them into +the ground; and, as soon as that was finished, he set out again +in quest of the old woman, whom, to his great joy, he spied +sitting at her corner of the street with her board before her.<span class="pagenum">[30]</span> +But this old woman was deaf and cross; and when at last +Jem made her hear his questions, he could get no answer +from her, but that she found the fossils where he would never +find any more. 'But can't I look where you looked?' 'Look +away, nobody hinders you,' replied the old woman; and these +were the only words she would say.</p> + +<p>Jem was not, however, a boy to be easily discouraged; he +went to the rocks, and walked slowly along, looking at all +the stones as he passed. Presently he came to a place where +a number of men were at work loosening some large rocks, +and one amongst the workmen was stooping down looking for +something very eagerly; Jem ran up and asked if he could +help him. 'Yes,' said the man, 'you can; I've just dropped, +amongst this heap of rubbish, a fine piece of crystal that I got +to-day.' 'What kind of a looking thing is it?' said Jem. +'White, and like glass,' said the man, and went on working +whilst Jem looked very carefully over the heap of rubbish for +a great while.</p> + +<p>'Come,' said the man, 'it's gone for ever; don't trouble +yourself any more, my boy.' 'It's no trouble; I'll look a little +longer; we'll not give it up so soon,' said Jem; and after he +had looked a little longer, he found the piece of crystal. +'Thank'e,' said the man, 'you are a fine little industrious +fellow.' Jem, encouraged by the tone of voice in which the +man spoke this, ventured to ask him the same questions which +he had asked the old woman.</p> + +<p>'One good turn deserves another,' said the man; 'we are +going to dinner just now, and shall leave off work—wait for +me here, and I'll make it worth your while.'</p> + +<p>Jem waited; and, as he was very attentively observing how +the workmen went on with their work, he heard somebody +near him give a great yawn, and, turning round, he saw +stretched upon the grass, beside the river, a boy about his own +age, who, in the village of Ashton, as he knew, went by the +name of Lazy Lawrence—a name which he most justly +deserved, for he never did anything from morning to night. +He neither worked nor played, but sauntered or lounged about +restless and yawning. His father was an ale-house keeper, +and being generally drunk, could take no care of his son; so +that Lazy Lawrence grew every day worse and worse. However, +some of the neighbours said that he was a good-natured<span class="pagenum">[31]</span> +poor fellow enough, and would never do any one harm but +himself; whilst others, who were wiser, often shook their +heads, and told him that idleness was the root of all evil.</p> + +<p>'What, Lawrence!' cried Jem to him, when he saw him +lying upon the grass; 'what, are you asleep?' 'Not quite.' +'Are you awake?' 'Not quite.' 'What are you doing there?' +'Nothing.' 'What are you thinking of?' 'Nothing.' +'What makes you lie there?' 'I don't know—because I +can't find anybody to play with me to-day. Will you come +and play?' 'No, I can't; I'm busy.' 'Busy,' cried Lawrence, +stretching himself, 'you are always busy. I would not be you for +the world to have so much to do always.' 'And I,' said Jem, +laughing, 'would not be you for the world, to have nothing +to do.'</p> + +<p>They then parted, for the workman just then called Jem to +follow him. He took him home to his own house, and showed +him a parcel of fossils, which he had gathered, he said, on +purpose to sell, but had never had time enough to sell them. +Now, however, he set about the task; and having picked out +those which he judged to be the best, he put them in a small +basket, and gave them to Jem to sell, upon condition that he +should bring him half of what he got. Jem, pleased to be +employed, was ready to agree to what the man proposed, +provided his mother had no objection. When he went home +to dinner, he told his mother his scheme, and she smiled, and +said he might do as he pleased; for she was not afraid of his +being from home. 'You are not an idle boy,' said she; 'so +there is little danger of your getting into any mischief.'</p> + +<p>Accordingly Jem that evening took his stand, with his little +basket, upon the bank of the river, just at the place where +people land from a ferry-boat, and the walk turns to the wells, +and numbers of people perpetually pass to drink the waters. +He chose his place well, and waited nearly all the evening, +offering his fossils with great assiduity to every passenger; but +not one person bought any.</p> + +<p>'Hallo!' cried some sailors, who had just rowed a boat to +land, 'bear a hand here, will you, my little fellow, and carry +these parcels for us into yonder house?'</p> + +<p>Jem ran down immediately for the parcels, and did what he +was asked to do so quickly, and with so much good-will, that +the master of the boat took notice of him, and, when he was<span class="pagenum">[32]</span> +going away, stopped to ask him what he had got in his little +basket; and when he saw that they were fossils, he immediately +told Jem to follow him, for that he was going to carry some +shells he had brought from abroad to a lady in the neighbourhood +who was making a grotto. 'She will very likely buy +your stones into the bargain. Come along, my lad; we can +but try.'</p> + +<p>The lady lived but a very little way off, so that they were +soon at her house. She was alone in her parlour, and was +sorting a bundle of feathers of different colours; they lay on a +sheet of pasteboard upon a window seat, and it happened that +as the sailor was bustling round the table to show off his shells, +he knocked down the sheet of pasteboard, and scattered all the +feathers. The lady looked very sorry, which Jem observing, +he took the opportunity, whilst she was busy looking over the +sailor's bag of shells, to gather together all the feathers, and +sort them according to their different colours, as he had seen +them sorted when he first came into the room.</p> + +<p>'Where is the little boy you brought with you? I thought +I saw him here just now.' 'And here I am, ma'am,' cried +Jem, creeping from under the table with some few remaining +feathers which he had picked from the carpet; 'I thought,' +added he, pointing to the others, 'I had better be doing something +than standing idle, ma'am.' She smiled, and, pleased +with his activity and simplicity, began to ask him several +questions; such as who he was, where he lived, what employment +he had, and how much a day he earned by gathering +fossils.</p> + +<p>'This is the first day I ever tried,' said Jem; 'I never sold +any yet, and if you don't buy 'em now, ma'am, I'm afraid +nobody else will; for I've asked everybody else.'</p> + +<p>'Come, then,' said the lady, laughing, 'if that is the case, I +think I had better buy them all.' So, emptying all the fossils +out of his basket, she put half a crown into it.</p> + +<p>Jem's eyes sparkled with joy. 'Oh, thank you, ma'am,' +said he, 'I will be sure and bring you as many more, to-morrow.' +'Yes, but I don't promise you,' said she, 'to give you half a +crown, to-morrow.' 'But, perhaps, though you don't promise +it, you will.' 'No,' said the lady, 'do not deceive yourself; +I assure you that I will not. <i>That</i>, instead of encouraging you +to be industrious, would teach you to be idle.'</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[33]</span></p> + +<p>Jem did not quite understand what she meant by this, but +answered, 'I'm sure I don't wish to be idle; what I want is to +earn something every day, if I knew how; I'm sure I don't wish +to be idle. If you knew all, you'd know I did not.' 'How +do you mean, <i>if I knew all</i>?' 'Why, I mean, if you knew +about Lightfoot.' 'Who's Lightfoot?' 'Why, mammy's +horse,' added Jem, looking out of the window; 'I must make +haste home, and feed him afore it gets dark; he'll wonder +what's gone with me.' 'Let him wonder a few minutes longer,' +said the lady, 'and tell me the rest of your story.' 'I've no +story, ma'am, to tell, but as how mammy says he must go to +the fair Monday fortnight, to be sold, if she can't get the two +guineas for her rent; and I should be main sorry to part with +him, for I love him, and he loves me; so I'll work for him, I +will, all I can. To be sure, as mammy says, I have no chance, +such a little fellow as I am, of earning two guineas afore +Monday fortnight.' 'But are you willing earnestly to work?' +said the lady; 'you know there is a great deal of difference +between picking up a few stones and working steadily every +day, and all day long.' 'But,' said Jem, 'I would work +every day, and all day long.' 'Then,' said the lady, 'I will +give you work. Come here to-morrow morning, and my gardener +will set you to weed the shrubberies, and I will pay you +sixpence a day. Remember, you must be at the gates by six +o'clock.' Jem bowed, thanked her, and went away.</p> + +<p>It was late in the evening, and Jem was impatient to get +home to feed Lightfoot; yet he recollected that he had promised +the man who had trusted him to sell the fossils, that he would +bring him half of what he got for them; so he thought that he +had better go to him directly; and away he went, running +along by the water-side about a quarter of a mile, till he came +to the man's house. He was just come home from work, and +was surprised when Jem showed him the half-crown, saying, +'Look what I got for the stones; you are to have half, you +know.' 'No,' said the man, when he had heard his story, I +shall not take half of that; it was given to you. I expected +but a shilling at the most, and the half of that is but sixpence, +and that I'll take. 'Wife, give the lad two shillings, and take +this half-crown.' So the wife opened an old glove, and took +out two shillings; and the man, as she opened the glove, put +in his fingers and took out a little silver penny. 'There, he<span class="pagenum">[34]</span> +shall have that into the bargain for his honesty—honesty is the +best policy—there's a lucky penny for you, that I've kept ever +since I can remember.' 'Don't you ever go to part with it, +do ye hear!' cried the woman. 'Let him do what he will with +it, wife,' said the man. 'But,' argued the wife, 'another penny +would do just as well to buy gingerbread; and that's what it +will go for.' 'No, that it shall not, I promise you,' said Jem; +and so he ran away home, fed Lightfoot, stroked him, went to +bed, jumped up at five o'clock in the morning, and went singing +to work as gay as a lark.</p> + +<p>Four days he worked 'every day and all day long'; and +every evening the lady, when she came out to walk in her +gardens, looked at his work. At last she said to her gardener, +'This little boy works very hard.' 'Never had so good a +little boy about the grounds,' said the gardener; 'he's always +at his work, let me come by when I will, and he has got twice +as much done as another would do; yes, twice as much, +ma'am; for look here—he began at this 'ere rose-bush, and +now he's got to where you stand, ma'am; and here is the +day's work that t'other boy, and he's three years older too, did +to-day—I say, measure Jem's fairly, and it's twice as much, +I'm sure.' 'Well,' said the lady to her gardener, 'show me +how much is a fair good day's work for a boy of his age.' +'Come at six o'clock and go at six? why, about this much, +ma'am,' said the gardener, marking off a piece of the border +with his spade.</p> + +<p>'Then, little boy,' said the lady, 'so much shall be your +task every day. The gardener will mark it off for you; and +when you've done, the rest of the day you may do what you +please.'</p> + +<p>Jem was extremely glad of this; and the next day he had +finished his task by four o'clock; so that he had all the rest +of the evening to himself. He was as fond of play as any +little boy could be; and when he was at it he played with all +the eagerness and gaiety imaginable; so as soon as he had +finished his task, fed Lightfoot, and put by the sixpence he +had earned that day, he ran to the playground in the village, +where he found a party of boys playing, and amongst them +Lazy Lawrence, who indeed was not playing, but lounging +upon a gate, with his thumb in his mouth. The rest were +playing at cricket. Jem joined them, and was the merriest<span class="pagenum">[35]</span> +and most active amongst them; till, at last, when quite out of +breath with running, he was obliged to give up to rest himself, +and sat down upon the stile, close to the gate on which Lazy +Lawrence was swinging.</p> + +<p>'And why don't you play, Lawrence?' said he. 'I'm +tired,' said Lawrence. 'Tired of what?' 'I don't know well +what tires me; grandmother says I'm ill, and I must take +something—I don't know what ails me.' 'Oh, pugh! take a +good race—one, two, three, and away—and you'll find yourself +as well as ever. Come, run—one, two, three, and away.' +'Ah, no, I can't run, indeed,' said he hanging back heavily; +'you know I can play all day long if I like it, so I don't mind +play as you do, who have only one hour for it.' 'So much +the worse for you. Come now, I'm quite fresh again, will +you have one game at ball? do.' 'No, I tell you I can't; +I'm as tired as if I had been working all day long as hard as +a horse.' 'Ten times more,' said Jem, 'for I have been +working all day long as hard as a horse, and yet you see I'm +not a bit tired, only a little out of breath just now.' 'That's +very odd,' said Lawrence, and yawned, for want of some better +answer; then taking out a handful of halfpence,—'See what I +got from father to-day, because I asked him just at the right +time, when he had drunk a glass or two; then I can get anything +I want out of him—see! a penny, twopence, threepence, +fourpence—there's eightpence in all; would not you be happy +if you had <i>eightpence</i>?' 'Why, I don't know,' said Jem, +laughing, 'for you don't seem happy, and you <i>have eightpence</i>.' +'That does not signify, though. I'm sure you only say that +because you envy me. You don't know what it is to have +eightpence. You never had more than twopence or threepence +at a time in all your life.'</p> + +<p>Jem smiled. 'Oh, as to that,' said he, 'you are mistaken, +for I have at this very time more than twopence, threepence, +or eightpence either. I have—let me—see—stones, two +shillings; then five days' work that's five sixpences, that's two +shillings and sixpence; in all, makes four shillings and sixpence; +and my silver penny, is four and sevenpence—four and +sevenpence!' 'You have not!' said Lawrence, roused so as +absolutely to stand upright, 'four and sevenpence, have you? +Show it me and then I'll believe you.' 'Follow me, then,' +cried Jem, 'and I'll soon make you believe me; come.' 'Is<span class="pagenum">[36]</span> +it far?' said Lawrence, following half-running, half-hobbling, +till he came to the stable, where Jem showed him his treasure. +'And how did you come by it—honestly?' 'Honestly! to be +sure I did; I earned it all.' 'Lord bless me, earned it! well, +I've a great mind to work; but then it's such hot weather, +besides, grandmother says I'm not strong enough yet for hard +work; and besides, I know how to coax daddy out of money +when I want it, so I need not work. But four and sevenpence; +let's see, what will you do with it all?' 'That's a secret,' said +Jem, looking great. 'I can guess; I know what I'd do with +it if it was mine. First, I'd buy pocketfuls of gingerbread; +then I'd buy ever so many apples and nuts. Don't you love +nuts? I'd buy nuts enough to last me from this time to +Christmas, and I'd make little Newton crack 'em for me, for +that's the worst of nuts, there's the trouble of cracking 'em.' +'Well, you never deserve to have a nut.' 'But you'll give me +some of yours,' said Lawrence, in a fawning tone; for he +thought it easier to coax than to work—'you'll give me some +of your good things, won't you?' 'I shall not have any of +those good things,' said Jem. 'Then, what will you do with +all your money?' 'Oh, I know very well what to do with +it; but, as I told you, that's a secret, and I shan't tell it anybody. +Come now, let's go back and play—their game's up, I +daresay.'</p> + +<p>Lawrence went back with him, full of curiosity, and out of +humour with himself and his eightpence. 'If I had four and +sevenpence,' said he to himself, 'I certainly should be happy!'</p> + +<p>The next day, as usual, Jem jumped up before six o'clock +and went to his work, whilst Lazy Lawrence sauntered about +without knowing what to do with himself. In the course of +two days he laid out sixpence of his money in apples and +gingerbread; and as long as these lasted, he found himself +well received by his companions; but at length the third day +he spent his last halfpenny, and when it was gone, unfortunately +some nuts tempted him very much, but he had no +money to pay for them; so he ran home to coax his father, as +he called it.</p> + +<p>When he got home he heard his father talking very loud, +and at first he thought he was drunk; but when he opened +the kitchen door, he saw that he was not drunk, but angry.</p> + +<p>'You lazy dog!' cried he, turning suddenly upon Lawrence,<span class="pagenum">[37]</span> +and gave him such a violent box on the ear as made the light +flash from his eyes; 'you lazy dog! See what you've done for +me—look!—look, look, I say!'</p> + +<p>Lawrence looked as soon as he came to the use of his +senses, and with fear, amazement, and remorse beheld at least +a dozen bottles burst, and the fine Worcestershire cider streaming +over the floor.</p> + +<p>'Now, did not I order you three days ago to carry these +bottles to the cellar, and did not I charge you to wire the +corks? answer me, you lazy rascal; did not I?' 'Yes,' said +Lawrence, scratching his head. 'And why was not it done, +I ask you?' cried his father, with renewed anger, as another +bottle burst at the moment. 'What do you stand there for, +you lazy brat? why don't you move, I say? No, no,' catching +hold of him, 'I believe you can't move; but I'll make you.' +And he shook him till Lawrence was so giddy he could not +stand. 'What had you to think of? What had you to do all +day long, that you could not carry my cider, my Worcestershire +cider, to the cellar when I bid you? But go, you'll never be +good for anything; you are such a lazy rascal—get out of my +sight!' So saying, he pushed him, out of the house door, and +Lawrence sneaked off, seeing that this was no time to make +his petition for halfpence.</p> + +<p>The next day he saw the nuts again, and wishing for them +more than ever, he went home, in hopes that his father, as he +said to himself, would be in a better humour. But the cider +was still fresh in his recollection; and the moment Lawrence +began to whisper the word 'halfpenny' in his ear, his father +swore with a loud oath, 'I will not give you a halfpenny, no, +not a farthing, for a month to come. If you want money, go +work for it; I've had enough of your laziness—go work!'</p> + +<p>At these terrible words Lawrence burst into tears, and, going +to the side of a ditch, sat down and cried for an hour; and +when he had cried till he could cry no more, he exerted himself +so far as to empty his pockets, to see whether there might not +happen to be one halfpenny left; and, to his great joy, in the +farthest corner of his pocket one halfpenny was found. With +this he proceeded to the fruit-woman's stall. She was busy +weighing out some plums, so he was obliged to wait; and +whilst he was waiting he heard some people near him talking +and laughing very loud.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i006f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i006t.jpg" alt="i006t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption">'<i>See what you've done for me—look!—look, look, I say!</i>'</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[39]</span>The fruit-woman's stall was at the gate of an inn yard; and +peeping through the gate in this yard, Lawrence saw a postilion +and a stable-boy, about his own size, playing at pitch farthing. +He stood by watching them for a few minutes. 'I began but +with one halfpenny,' cried the stable-boy, with an oath, 'and +now I've got twopence!' added he, jingling the halfpence in his +waistcoat pocket. Lawrence was moved at the sound, and +said to himself, 'If <i>I</i> begin with one halfpenny I may end, like +him, with having twopence; and it is easier to play at pitch +farthing than to work.'</p> + +<p>So he stepped forward, presenting his halfpenny, offering to +toss up with the stable-boy, who, after looking him full in the +face, accepted the proposal, and threw his halfpenny into the +air. 'Head or tail?' cried he. 'Head,' replied Lawrence, +and it came up head. He seized the penny, surprised at his +own success, and would have gone instantly to have laid it out +in nuts; but the stable-boy stopped him, and tempted him to +throw it again. This time Lawrence lost; he threw again and +won; and so he went on, sometimes losing, but most frequently +winning, till half the morning was lost. At last, however, +finding himself the master of three halfpence, he said he would +play no more.</p> + +<p>The stable-boy, grumbling, swore he would have his +revenge another time, and Lawrence went and bought his nuts. +'It is a good thing,' said he to himself, 'to play at pitch +farthing; the next time I want a halfpenny I'll not ask my +father for it, nor go to work neither.' Satisfied with this +resolution, he sat down to crack his nuts at his leisure, upon +the horse-block in the inn yard. Here, whilst he ate, he +overheard the conversation of the stable-boys and postilions. +At first their shocking oaths and loud wrangling frightened +and shocked him; for Lawrence, though <i>lazy</i>, had not yet +learned to be a <i>wicked</i> boy. But, by degrees, he was accustomed +to the swearing and quarrelling, and took a delight and +interest in their disputes and battles. As this was an amusement +which he could enjoy without any sort of exertion, he +soon grew so fond of it, that every day he returned to the +stable yard, and the horse-block became his constant seat. +Here he found some relief from the insupportable fatigue of +doing nothing, and here, hour after hour, with his elbows on +his knees and his head on his hands, he sat, the spectator of<span class="pagenum">[40]</span> +wickedness. Gaming, cheating, and lying soon became +familiar to him; and, to complete his ruin, he formed a sudden +and close intimacy with the stable-boy (a very bad boy) with +whom he had first begun to game.</p> + +<p>The consequences of this intimacy we shall presently see. +But it is now time to inquire what little Jem had been doing +all this while.</p> + +<p>One day, after Jem had finished his task, the gardener +asked him to stay a little while, to help him to carry some +geranium pots into the hall. Jem, always active and obliging, +readily stayed from play, and was carrying in a heavy flower +pot, when his mistress crossed the hall. 'What a terrible +litter!' said she, 'you are making here—why don't you wipe +your shoes upon the mat?' Jem turned to look for the mat, +but he saw none. 'Oh,' said the lady, recollecting herself, 'I +can't blame you, for there is no mat.' 'No, ma'am,' said the +gardener, 'nor I don't know when, if ever, the man will bring +home those mats you bespoke, ma'am.' 'I am very sorry to +hear that,' said the lady; 'I wish we could find somebody +who would do them, if he can't. I should not care what +sort of mats they were, so that one could wipe one's feet on +them.'</p> + +<p>Jem, as he was sweeping away the litter, when he heard +these last words, said to himself, 'Perhaps I could make a +mat.' And all the way home, as he trudged along whistling, +he was thinking over a scheme for making mats, which, +however bold it may appear, he did not despair of executing, +with patience and industry. Many were the difficulties which +his '<i>prophetic eye</i>' foresaw; but he felt within himself that +spirit which spurs men on to great enterprises, and makes +them 'trample on impossibilities.' In the first place, he +recollected that he had seen Lazy Lawrence, whilst he lounged +upon the gate, twist a bit of heath into different shapes; and +he thought that, if he could find some way of plaiting heath +firmly together, it would make a very pretty green, soft mat, +which would do very well for one to wipe one's shoes on. +About a mile from his mother's house, on the common which +Jem rode over when he went to Farmer Truck's for the giant +strawberries, he remembered to have seen a great quantity of +this heath; and, as it was now only six o'clock in the evening, +he knew that he should have time to feed Lightfoot, stroke<span class="pagenum">[41]</span> +him, go to the common, return, and make one trial of his +skill before he went to bed.</p> + +<p>Lightfoot carried him swiftly to the common, and there +Jem gathered as much of the heath as he thought he should +want. But what toil! what time! what pains did it cost him, +before he could make anything like a mat! Twenty times he +was ready to throw aside the heath, and give up his project, +from impatience of repeated disappointments. But still he +persevered. Nothing <i>truly great</i> can be accomplished without +toil and time. Two hours he worked before he went to bed. +All his play hours the next day he spent at his mat; which, in +all, made five hours of fruitless attempts. The sixth, however, +repaid him for the labours of the other five. He conquered +his grand difficulty of fastening the heath substantially together, +and at length completely finished a mat, which far surpassed +his most sanguine expectations. He was extremely happy—sang, +danced round it—whistled—looked at it again and again, +and could hardly leave off looking at it when it was time to go +to bed. He laid it by his bedside, that he might see it the +moment he awoke in the morning.</p> + +<p>And now came the grand pleasure of carrying it to his +mistress. She looked fully as much surprised as he expected, +when she saw it, and when she heard who made it. After +having duly admired it, she asked how much he expected for +his mat. 'Expect!—Nothing, ma'am,' said Jem; 'I meant +to give it you, if you'd have it; I did not mean to sell it. I +made it in my play hours, I was very happy in making it; and +I'm very glad, too, that you like it; and if you please to keep +it, ma'am, that's all.' 'But that's not all,' said the lady. +'Spend your time no more in weeding in my garden, you can +employ yourself much better; you shall have the reward of +your ingenuity as well as of your industry. Make as many +more such mats as you can, and I will take care and dispose +of them for you.'</p> + +<p>'Thank'e, ma'am,' said Jem, making his best bow, for he +thought by the lady's looks that she meant to do him a favour, +though he repeated to himself, 'Dispose of them, what does +that mean?'</p> + +<p>The next day he went to work to make more mats, and he +soon learned to make them so well and quickly, that he was +surprised at his own success. In every one he made he found<span class="pagenum">[42]</span> +less difficulty, so that, instead of making two, he could soon +make four, in a day. In a fortnight he made eighteen.</p> + +<p>It was Saturday night when he finished, and he carried, at +three journeys, his eighteen mats to his mistress's house; piled +them all up in the hall, and stood with his hat off, with a look +of proud humility, beside the pile, waiting for his mistress's +appearance. Presently a folding-door, at one end of the hall, +opened, and he saw his mistress, with a great many gentlemen +and ladies, rising from several tables.</p> + +<p>'Oh! there is my little boy and his mats,' cried the lady; +and, followed by all the rest of the company, she came into the +hall. Jem modestly retired whilst they looked at his mats; +but in a minute or two his mistress beckoned to him, and +when he came into the middle of the circle, he saw that his +pile of mats had disappeared.</p> + +<p>'Well,' said the lady, smiling, 'what do you see that makes +you look so surprised?' 'That all my mats are gone,' said +Jem; 'but you are very welcome.' 'Are we?' said the lady, +'well, take up your hat and go home then, for you see that it +is getting late, and you know Lightfoot will wonder what's +become of you.' Jem turned round to take up his hat, which +he had left on the floor.</p> + +<p>But how his countenance changed! the hat was heavy with +shillings. Every one who had taken a mat had put in two +shillings; so that for the eighteen mats he had got thirty-six +shillings. 'Thirty-six shillings,' said the lady; 'five and +sevenpence I think you told me you had earned already—how +much does that make? I must add, I believe, one other +sixpence to make out your two guineas.'</p> + +<p>'Two guineas!' exclaimed Jem, now quite conquering his +bashfulness, for at the moment he forgot where he was, and +saw nobody that was by. 'Two guineas!' cried he, clapping +his hands together,—'O Lightfoot! O mother!' Then, +recollecting himself, he saw his mistress, whom he now looked +up to quite as a friend. 'Will <i>you</i> thank them all?' said he, +scarcely daring to glance his eyes round upon the company; +'will <i>you</i> thank 'em, for you knew I don't know how to thank +'em <i>rightly</i>.' Everybody thought, however, that they had +been thanked <i>rightly</i>. 'Now we won't keep you any longer, +only,' said his mistress, 'I have one thing to ask you, that I +may be by when you show your treasure to your mother.'</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[43]</span></p> + +<p>'Come, then,' said Jem, 'come with me now.' 'Not now,' +said the lady, laughing; 'but I will come to Ashton to-morrow +evening; perhaps your mother can find me a few strawberries.'</p> + +<p>'That she will,' said Jem; 'I'll search the garden myself.'</p> + +<p>He now went home, but felt it a great restraint to wait till +to-morrow evening before he told his mother. To console +himself he flew to the stable:—'Lightfoot, you're not to be +sold on Monday, poor fellow!' said he, patting him, and then +could not refrain from counting out his money. Whilst he was +intent upon this, Jem was startled by a noise at the door: +somebody was trying to pull up the latch. It opened, and +there came in Lazy Lawrence, with a boy in a red jacket, who +had a cock under his arm. They started when they got into +the middle of the stable, and when they saw Jem, who had +been at first hidden by the horse.</p> + +<p>'We—we—we came,' stammered Lazy Lawrence—'I mean, +I came to—to—to——' 'To ask you,' continued the stable-boy, +in a bold tone, 'whether you will go with us to the cock-fight +on Monday? See, I've a fine cock here, and Lawrence +told me you were a great friend of his; so I came.'</p> + +<p>Lawrence now attempted to say something in praise of the +pleasures of cock-fighting and in recommendation of his new +companion. But Jem looked at the stable-boy with dislike, and +a sort of dread. Then turning his eyes upon the cock with a +look of compassion, said, in a low voice, to Lawrence, 'Shall +you like to stand by and see its eyes pecked out?' 'I don't +know,' said Lawrence, 'as to that; but they say a cockfight's +a fine sight, and it's no more cruel in me to go than +another; and a great many go, and I've nothing else to do, so +I shall go.' 'But I have something else to do,' said Jem, +laughing, 'so I shall not go.' 'But,' continued Lawrence, +'you know Monday is a great Bristol fair, and one must be +merry then, of all the days in the year.' 'One day in the +year, sure, there's no harm in being merry,' said the stable-boy. +'I hope not,' said Jem; 'for I know, for my part, I am merry +every day in the year.' 'That's very odd,' said Lawrence; +'but I know, for my part, I would not for all the world miss +going to the fair, for at least it will be something to talk of for +half a year after. Come, you'll go, won't you?' 'No,' said +Jem, still looking as if he did not like to talk before the ill-looking +stranger. 'Then what will you do with all your<span class="pagenum">[44]</span> +money?' 'I'll tell you about that another time,' whispered +Jem; 'and don't you go to see that cock's eyes pecked out; +it won't make you merry, I'm sure.' 'If I had anything +else to divert me,' said Lawrence, hesitating and yawning. +'Come,' cried the stable-boy, seizing his stretching arm, +'come along,' cried he; and, pulling him away from Jem, +upon whom he cast a look of extreme contempt; 'leave him +alone, he's not the sort.'</p> + +<p>'What a fool you are,' said he to Lawrence, the moment he +got him out of the stable; 'you might have known he would +not go, else we should soon have trimmed him out of his four +and sevenpence. But how came you to talk of four and sevenpence? +I saw in the manger a hat full of silver.' 'Indeed!' +exclaimed Lawrence. 'Yes, indeed; but why did you +stammer so when we first got in? You had like to have +blown us all up.' 'I was so ashamed,' said Lawrence, +hanging down his head. 'Ashamed! but you must not talk +of shame now you are in for it, and I shan't let you off; you +owe us half a crown, recollect, and I must be paid to-night, so +see and get the money somehow or other.' After a considerable +pause he added, 'I answer for it he'd never miss half a +crown out of all that silver.' 'But to steal,' said Lawrence, +drawing back with horror; 'I never thought I should come to +that—and from poor Jem, too—the money that he has worked +so hard for, too.' 'But it is not stealing; we don't mean to +steal; only to borrow it; and if we win, which we certainly +shall, at the cock-fight, pay it back again, and he'll never know +anything about the matter, and what harm will it do him? +Besides, what signifies talking? you can't go to the cock-fight, +or the fair either, if you don't; and I tell ye we don't mean to +steal it; we'll pay it by Monday night.'</p> + +<p>Lawrence made no reply, and they parted without his +coming to any determination.</p> + +<p>Here let us pause in our story. We are almost afraid to +go on. The rest is very shocking. Our little readers will +shudder as they read. But it is better that they should know +the truth and see what the idle boy came to at last.</p> + +<p>In the dead of the night, Lawrence heard somebody tap at +his window. He knew well who it was, for this was the signal +agreed upon between him and his wicked companion. He +trembled at the thoughts of what he was about to do, and lay<span class="pagenum">[45]</span> +quite still, with his head under the bedclothes, till he heard the +second tap. Then he got up, dressed himself, and opened his +window. It was almost even with the ground. His companion +said to him, in a hollow voice, 'Are you ready?' He +made no answer, but got out of the window and followed.</p> + +<p>When he got to the stable a black cloud was just passing +over the moon, and it was quite dark. 'Where are you?' +whispered Lawrence, groping about, 'where are you? Speak +to me.' 'I am here; give me your hand.' Lawrence +stretched out his hand. 'Is that your hand?' said the wicked +boy, as Lawrence laid hold of him; 'how cold it feels.' +'Let us go back,' said Lawrence; 'it is time yet.' 'It is +no time to go back,' replied the other, opening the door: +'you've gone too far now to go back,' and he pushed Lawrence +into the stable. 'Have you found it? Take care of the +horse. Have you done? What are you about? Make haste, +I hear a noise,' said the stable-boy, who watched at the door. +'I am feeling for the half-crown, but I can't find it.' 'Bring +all together.' He brought Jem's broken flower-pot, with all +the money in it, to the door.</p> + +<p>The black cloud had now passed over the moon, and the +light shone full upon them. 'What do we stand here for?' +said the stable-boy, snatching the flower-pot out of Lawrence's +trembling hands, and pulled him away from the door.</p> + +<p>'Good God!' cried Lawrence, 'you won't take all. You +said you'd only take half a crown, and pay it back on Monday. +You said you'd only take half a crown!' 'Hold your tongue,' +replied the other, walking on, deaf to all remonstrances—'if +ever I am to be hanged, it shan't be for half a crown.'</p> + +<p>Lawrence's blood ran cold in his veins, and he felt as if +all his hair stood on end. Not another word passed. His +accomplice carried off the money, and Lawrence crept, with +all the horrors of guilt upon him, to his restless bed. All +night he was starting from frightful dreams; or else, broad +awake, he lay listening to every small noise, unable to stir, +and scarcely daring to breathe—tormented by that most +dreadful of all kinds of fear, that fear which is the constant +companion of an evil conscience.</p> + +<p>He thought the morning would never come; but when it +was day, when he heard the birds sing, and saw everything +look cheerful as usual, he felt still more miserable. It was<span class="pagenum">[46]</span> +Sunday morning, and the bell rang for church. All the +children of the village, dressed in their Sunday clothes, +innocent and gay, and little Jem, the best and gayest amongst +them, went flocking by his door to church.</p> + +<p>'Well, Lawrence,' said Jem, pulling his coat as he passed, +and saw Lawrence leaning against his father's door, 'what +makes you look so black?' 'I?' said Lawrence, starting; +'why do you say that I look black?' 'Nay, then,' said Jem, +'you look white enough now, if that will please you, for you're +turned as pale as death.' 'Pale!' replied Lawrence, not +knowing what he said, and turned abruptly away, for he +dared not stand another look of Jem's; conscious that guilt +was written in his face, he shunned every eye. He would +now have given the world to have thrown off the load of guilt +which lay upon his mind. He longed to follow Jem, to fall +upon his knees and confess all.</p> + +<p>Dreading the moment when Jem should discover his loss, +Lawrence dared not stay at home, and not knowing what to +do, or where to go, he mechanically went to his old haunt +at the stable yard, and lurked thereabouts all day, with his +accomplice, who tried in vain to quiet his fears and raise his +spirits by talking of the next day's cock-fight. It was agreed +that, as soon as the dusk of the evening came on, they should +go together into a certain lonely field, and there divide their +booty.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Jem, when he returned from church, was +very full of business, preparing for the reception of his mistress, +of whose intended visit he had informed his mother; and +whilst she was arranging the kitchen and their little parlour, +he ran to search the strawberry beds.</p> + +<p>'Why, my Jem, how merry you are to-day!' said his +mother, when he came in with the strawberries, and was +jumping about the room playfully. 'Now, keep those spirits +of yours, Jem, till you want 'em, and don't let it come upon +you all at once. Have it in mind that to-morrow's fair day, +and Lightfoot must go. I bid Farmer Truck call for him +to-night. He said he'd take him along with his own, and +he'll be here just now—and then I know how it will be with +you, Jem!' 'So do I!' cried Jem, swallowing his secret with +great difficulty, and then tumbling head over heels four times +running.<span class="pagenum">[47]</span></p> + +<p>A carriage passed the window, and stopped at the door. +Jem ran out; it was his mistress. She came in smiling, and +soon made the old woman smile, too, by praising the neatness +of everything in the house.</p> + +<p>We shall pass over, however important as they were deemed +at the time, the praises of the strawberries, and of 'my grandmother's +china plate.'</p> + +<p>Another knock was heard at the door. 'Run, Jem,' said +his mother. 'I hope it's our milk-woman with cream for the +lady.' No; it was Farmer Truck come for Lightfoot. The +old woman's countenance fell. 'Fetch him out, dear,' said she, +turning to her son; but Jem was gone; he flew out to the +stable the moment he saw the flap of Farmer Truck's greatcoat.</p> + +<p>'Sit ye down, farmer,' said the old woman, after they had +waited about five minutes in expectation of Jem's return. +'You'd best sit down, if the lady will give you leave; for +he'll not hurry himself back again. My boy's a fool, madam, +about that there horse.' Trying to laugh, she added, 'I knew +how Lightfoot and he would be loth enough to part. He +won't bring him out to the last minute; so do sit ye down, +neighbour.'</p> + +<p>The farmer had scarcely sat down when Jem, with a pale, +wild countenance, came back. 'What's the matter?' said his +mistress. 'God bless the boy!' said his mother, looking at +him quite frightened, whilst he tried to speak but could not.</p> + +<p>She went up to him, and then leaning his head against her, +he cried, 'It's gone!—it's all gone!' and, bursting into tears, +he sobbed as if his little heart would break. 'What's gone, +love?' said his mother. 'My two guineas—Lightfoot's two +guineas. I went to fetch 'em to give you, mammy; but the +broken flower-pot that I put them in and all's gone!—quite +gone!' repeated he, checking his sobs. 'I saw them safe last +night, and was showing 'em to Lightfoot; and I was so glad +to think I had earned them all myself; and I thought how +surprised you'd look, and how glad you'd be, and how you'd +kiss me, and all!'</p> + +<p>His mother listened to him with the greatest surprise, whilst +his mistress stood in silence, looking first at the old woman +and then at Jem with a penetrating eye, as if she suspected +the truth of his story, and was afraid of becoming the dupe of +her own compassion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i007f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i007t.jpg" alt="i007t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>'What's the matter?' said his mistress. 'God bless the boy!' said his mother.</i></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[49]</span></p> + +<p>'This is a very strange thing!' said she gravely. 'How +came you to leave all your money in a broken flower-pot in +the stable? How came you not to give it to your mother to +take care of?' 'Why, don't you remember?' said Jem, looking +up in the midst of his tears—'why, don't you remember +you, your own self, bid me not tell her about it till you were +by?' 'And did you not tell her?' 'Nay, ask mammy,' said +Jem, a little offended; and when afterwards the lady went on +questioning him in a severe manner, as if she did not believe +him, he at last made no answer. 'O Jem! Jem! why don't +you speak to the lady?' said his mother. 'I have spoke, and +spoke the truth,' said Jem proudly; 'and she did not believe me.'</p> + +<p>Still the lady, who had lived too long in the world to be +without suspicion, maintained a cold manner, and determined +to wait the event without interfering, saying only that she +hoped the money would be found, and advised Jem to have +done crying.</p> + +<p>'I have done,' said Jem; 'I shall cry no more.' And as +he had the greatest command over himself, he actually did not +shed another tear, not even when the farmer got up to go, +saying he could wait no longer.</p> + +<p>Jem silently went to bring out Lightfoot. The lady now +took her seat, where she could see all that passed at the open +parlour-window. The old woman stood at the door, and +several idle people of the village, who had gathered round the +lady's carriage examining it, turned about to listen. In a +minute or two Jem appeared, with a steady countenance, +leading Lightfoot, and, when he came up, without saying a +word, put the bridle into Farmer Truck's hand. 'He <i>has been</i> +a good horse,' said the farmer. 'He <i>is</i> a good horse!' cried +Jem, and threw his arm over Lightfoot's neck, hiding his own +face as he leaned upon him.</p> + +<p>At this instant a party of milk-women went by; and one of +them, having set down her pail, came behind Jem and gave +him a pretty smart blow upon the back. He looked up. +'And don't you know me?' said she. 'I forget,' said Jem; +'I think I have seen your face before, but I forget.' 'Do you +so? and you'll tell me just now,' said she, half opening her +hand, 'that you forget who gave you this, and who charged +you not to part with it, too.' Here she quite opened her large +hand, and on the palm of it appeared Jem's silver penny.<span class="pagenum">[50]</span></p> + +<p>'Where?' exclaimed Jem, seizing it, 'oh, where did you +find it? and have you—oh, tell me, have you got the rest of +my money?' 'I know nothing of your money—I don't know +what you would be at,' said the milk-woman. 'But where—pray +tell me where—did you find this?' 'With them that +you gave it to, I suppose,' said the milk-woman, turning away +suddenly to take up her milk-pail. But now Jem's mistress +called to her through the window, begging her to stop, and +joining in his entreaties to know how she came by the silver +penny.</p> + +<p>'Why, madam,' said she, taking up the corner of her apron, +'I came by it in an odd way, too. You must know my Betty +is sick, so I came with the milk myself, though it's not what +I'm used to; for my Betty—you know my Betty?' said she, +turning round to the old woman, 'my Betty serves you, and +she's a tight and stirring lassy, ma'am, I can assure——' +'Yes, I don't doubt it,' said the lady impatiently; 'but about +the silver penny?' 'Why, that's true; as I was coming along +all alone, for the rest came round, and I came a short cut +across yon field—no, you can't see it, madam, where you stand—but +if you were here——' 'I see it—I know it,' said Jem, +out of breath with anxiety. 'Well—well—I rested my pail +upon the stile, and sets me down awhile, and there comes out +of the hedge—I don't know well how, for they startled me so +I'd like to have thrown down my milk—two boys, one about +the size of he,' said she, pointing to Jem, 'and one a matter +taller, but ill-looking like; so I did not think to stir to make +way for them, and they were like in a desperate hurry: so, +without waiting for the stile, one of 'em pulled at the gate, +and when it would not open (for it was tied with a pretty stout +cord) one of 'em whips out with his knife and cuts it——Now, +have you a knife about you, sir?' continued the milk-woman +to the farmer. He gave her his knife. 'Here, now, ma'am, +just sticking, as it were here, between the blade and the haft, +was the silver penny. The lad took no notice; but when he +opened it, out it falls. Still he takes no heed, but cuts the +cord, as I said before, and through the gate they went, and +out of sight in half a minute. I picks up the penny, for my +heart misgave me that it was the very one my husband had had +a long time, and had given against my voice to he,' pointing +to Jem; 'and I charged him not to part with it; and, ma'am,<span class="pagenum">[51]</span> +when I looked I knew it by the mark, so I thought I would +show it to <i>he</i>,' again pointing to Jem, 'and let him give it +back to those it belongs to.' 'It belongs to me,' said Jem, 'I +never gave it to anybody—but——' 'But,' cried the farmer, +'those boys have robbed him; it is they who have all his +money.' 'Oh, which way did they go?' cried Jem, 'I'll run +after them.'</p> + +<p>'No, no,' said the lady, calling to her servant; and she +desired him to take his horse and ride after them. 'Ay,' +added Farmer Truck, 'do you take the road, and I'll take the +field way, and I'll be bound we'll have 'em presently.'</p> + +<p>Whilst they were gone in pursuit of the thieves, the lady, +who was now thoroughly convinced of Jem's truth, desired her +coachman would produce what she had ordered him to bring +with him that evening. Out of the boot of the carriage the +coachman immediately produced a new saddle and bridle.</p> + +<p>How Jem's eyes sparkled when the saddle was thrown +upon Lightfoot's back! 'Put it on your horse yourself, Jem,' +said the lady; 'it is yours.'</p> + +<p>Confused reports of Lightfoot's splendid accoutrements, of +the pursuit of thieves, and of the fine and generous lady who +was standing at dame Preston's window, quickly spread through +the village, and drew everybody from their houses. They +crowded round Jem to hear the story. The children especially, +who were fond of him, expressed the strongest indignation +against the thieves. Every eye was on the stretch; and now +some, who had run down the lane, came back shouting, 'Here +they are! they've got the thieves!'</p> + +<p>The footman on horseback carried one boy before him; +and the farmer, striding along, dragged another. The latter +had on a red jacket, which little Jem immediately recollected, +and scarcely dared lift his eyes to look at the boy on horseback. +'Good God!' said he to himself, 'it must be—yet +surely it can't be Lawrence!' The footman rode on as fast +as the people would let him. The boy's hat was slouched, +and his head hung down, so that nobody could see his face.</p> + +<p>At this instant there was a disturbance in the crowd. A +man who was half-drunk pushed his way forwards, swearing +that nobody should stop him; that he had a right to see—and +he <i>would</i> see. And so he did; for, forcing through all +resistance, he staggered up to the footman just as he was lifting<span class="pagenum">[52]</span> +down the boy he had carried before him. 'I <i>will</i>—I tell +you I <i>will</i> see the thief!' cried the drunken man, pushing up +the boy's hat. It was his own son. 'Lawrence!' exclaimed +the wretched father. The shock sobered him at once, and he +hid his face in his hands.</p> + +<p>There was an awful silence. Lawrence fell on his knees, +and in a voice that could scarcely be heard made a full confession +of all the circumstances of his guilt.</p> + +<p>'Such a young creature so wicked!' the bystanders exclaimed; +'what could put such wickedness in your head?' 'Bad +company,' said Lawrence. 'And how came you—what brought +you into bad company?' 'I don't know, except it was idleness.'</p> + +<p>While this was saying, the farmer was emptying Lazy +Lawrence's pockets; and when the money appeared, all his +former companions in the village looked at each other with +astonishment and terror. Their parents grasped their little +hands closer, and cried, 'Thank God! he is not my son. +How often when he was little we used, as he lounged about, +to tell him that idleness was the root of all evil.'</p> + +<p>As for the hardened wretch, his accomplice, every one was +impatient to have him sent to gaol. He put on a bold, insolent +countenance, till he heard Lawrence's confession; till the +money was found upon him; and he heard the milk-woman +declare that she would swear to the silver penny which he had +dropped. Then he turned pale, and betrayed the strongest +signs of fear.</p> + +<p>'We must take him before the justice,' said the farmer, +'and he'll be lodged in Bristol gaol.'</p> + +<p>'Oh!' said Jem, springing forwards when Lawrence's hands +were going to be tied, 'let him go—won't you?—can't you let +him go?' 'Yes, madam, for mercy's sake,' said Jem's mother +to the lady; 'think what a disgrace to his family to be sent to +gaol.'</p> + +<p>His father stood by wringing his hands in an agony of +despair. 'It's all my fault,' cried he; 'brought him up in +<i>idleness</i>.' 'But he'll never be idle any more,' said Jem; 'won't +you speak for him, ma'am?' 'Don't ask the lady to speak +for him,' said the farmer; 'it's better he should go to Bridewell +now, than to the gallows by and by.'</p> + +<p>Nothing more was said; for everybody felt the truth of the +farmer's speech.<span class="pagenum">[53]</span></p> + +<p>Lawrence was eventually sent to Bridewell for a month, +and the stable-boy was sent for trial, convicted, and transported +to Botany Bay.</p> + +<p>During Lawrence's confinement, Jem often visited him, +and carried him such little presents as he could afford to give; +and Jem could afford to be <i>generous</i>, because he was <i>industrious</i>. +Lawrence's heart was touched by his kindness, and his example +struck him so forcibly that, when his confinement was ended, +he resolved to set immediately to work; and, to the astonishment +of all who knew him, soon became remarkable for +industry. He was found early and late at his work, established +a new character, and for ever lost the name of '<i>Lazy Lawrence</i>.'</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[55]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="THE_FALSE_KEY" id="THE_FALSE_KEY"></a>THE FALSE KEY</h2> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">Mr. Spencer</span>, a very benevolent and sensible man, undertook +the education of several poor children. Among the best was +a boy of the name of Franklin, whom he had bred up from +the time he was five years old. Franklin had the misfortune +to be the son of a man of infamous character; and for many +years this was a disgrace and reproach to his child. When +any of the neighbours' children quarrelled with him, they used +to tell him that he would turn out like his father. But Mr. +Spencer always assured him that he might make himself whatever +he pleased; that by behaving well he would certainly, +sooner or later, secure the esteem and love of all who knew +him, even of those who had the strongest prejudice against +him on his father's account.</p> + +<p>This hope was very delightful to Franklin, and he showed +the strongest desire to learn and to do everything that was +right; so that Mr. Spencer soon grew fond of him, and took +great pains to instruct him, and to give him all the good habits +and principles which might make him a useful, respectable, +and happy man.</p> + +<p>When he was about thirteen years of age, Mr. Spencer one +day sent for him into his closet; and as he was folding up a +letter which he had been writing, said to him, with a very kind +look, but in a graver tone than usual, 'Franklin, you are going +to leave me.' 'Sir!' said Franklin. 'You are now going to +leave me, and to begin the world for yourself. You will carry +this letter to my sister, Mrs. Churchill, in Queen's Square. +You know Queen's Square?' Franklin bowed. 'You must +expect,' continued Mr. Spencer, 'to meet with several disagreeable +things, and a great deal of rough work, at your first +setting out; but be faithful and obedient to your mistress, and<span class="pagenum">[56]</span> +obliging to your fellow-servants, and all will go well. Mrs. +Churchill will make you a very good mistress, if you behave +properly; and I have no doubt but you will.' 'Thank you, +sir.' 'And you will always—I mean, as long as you deserve +it—find a friend in me.' 'Thank you, sir—I am sure you +are——' There Franklin stopped short, for the recollection +of all Mr. Spencer's goodness rushed upon him at once, and +he could not say another word. 'Bring me a candle to seal +this letter,' said his master; and he was very glad to get out +of the room. He came back with the candle, and, with a +stout heart, stood by whilst the letter was sealing; and, when +his master put it into his hand, said, in a cheerful voice, 'I +hope you will let me see you again, sir, sometimes.' 'Certainly; +whenever your mistress can spare you, I shall be very glad to +see you; and remember, if ever you get into any difficulty, +don't be afraid to come to me. I have sometimes spoken +harshly to you; but you will not meet with a more indulgent +friend.' Franklin at this turned away with a full heart; and, +after making two or three attempts to express his gratitude, +left the room without being able to speak.</p> + +<p>He got to Queen's Square about three o'clock. The door +was opened by a large, red-faced man, in a blue coat and +scarlet waistcoat, to whom he felt afraid to give his message, +lest he should not be a servant. 'Well, what's your business, +sir?' said the butler. 'I have a letter for Mrs. Churchill, <i>sir</i>,' +said Franklin, endeavouring to pronounce his <i>sir</i> in a tone as +respectful as the butler's was insolent.</p> + +<p>The man, having examined the direction, seal, and edges of +the letter, carried it upstairs, and in a few minutes returned, +and ordered Franklin to rub his shoes well and follow him. +He was then shown into a handsome room, where he found +his mistress—an elderly lady. She asked him a few questions, +examining him attentively as she spoke; and her severe eye +at first and her gracious smile afterwards, made him feel that +she was a person to be both loved and feared. 'I shall give +you in charge,' said she, ringing a bell, 'to my housekeeper, +and I hope she will have no reason to be displeased with you.'</p> + +<p>The housekeeper, when she first came in, appeared with a +smiling countenance; but the moment she cast her eyes on +Franklin, it changed to a look of surprise and suspicion. Her +mistress recommended him to her protection, saying, 'Pomfret,<span class="pagenum">[57]</span> +I hope you will keep this boy under your own eye.' And she +received him with a cold 'Very well, ma'am,' which plainly +showed that she was not disposed to like him. In fact, Mrs. +Pomfret was a woman so fond of power, and so jealous of +favour, that she would have quarrelled with an angel who had +got so near her mistress without her introduction. She +smothered her displeasure, however, till night; when, as she +attended her mistress's toilette, she could not refrain from expressing +her sentiments. She began cautiously: 'Ma'am, is +not this the boy Mr. Spencer was talking of one day—that +has been brought up by the <i>Villaintropic Society</i>, I think they +call it?'—'Philanthropic Society; yes,' said her mistress; +'and my brother gives him a high character: I hope he will +do very well.' 'I'm sure I hope so too,' observed Mrs. +Pomfret; 'but I can't say; for my part, I've no great notion +of those low people. They say all those children are taken +from the very lowest <i>drugs</i> and <i>refuges</i> of the town, and surely +they are like enough, ma'am, to take after their own fathers +and mothers.' 'But they are not suffered to be with their +parents,' rejoined the lady; 'and therefore cannot be hurt by +their example. This little boy, to be sure, was unfortunate in +his father, but he has had an excellent education.' 'Oh, +<i>edication</i>! to be sure, ma'am, I know. I don't say but what +<i>edication</i> is a great thing. But then, ma'am, <i>edication</i> can't +change the <i>natur</i> that's in one, they say; and one that's born +naturally bad and low, they say, all the <i>edication</i> in the world +won't do no good; and, for my part, ma'am, I know you +knows best; but I should be afraid to let any of those <i>Villaintropic</i> +folks get into my house; for nobody can tell the <i>natur</i> +of them aforehand. I declare it frights me.' 'Pomfret, I +thought you had better sense: how would this poor boy earn +his bread? he would be forced to starve or steal, if everybody +had such prejudices.'</p> + +<p>Pomfret, who really was a good woman, was softened at +this idea, and said, 'God forbid he should starve or steal, and +God forbid I should say anything <i>prejudiciary</i> of the boy; +for there may be no harm in him.'</p> + +<p>'Well,' said Mrs. Churchill, changing her tone, 'but, +Pomfret, if we don't like the boy at the end of the month, we +have done with him; for I have only promised Mr. Spencer to +keep him a month upon trial: there is no harm done.' 'Dear,<span class="pagenum">[58]</span> +no, ma'am, to be sure; and cook must put up with her +disappointment, that's all.' 'What disappointment?' 'About +her nephew, ma'am; the boy she and I was speaking to you +for.' 'When?' 'The day you called her up about the +almond pudding, ma'am. If you remember, you said you +should have no objections to try the boy; and upon that cook +bought him new shirts; but they are to the good, as I tell +her.' 'But I did not promise to take her nephew.' 'Oh no, +ma'am, not at all; she does not think to <i>say that</i>, else I +should be very angry; but the poor woman never let fall a +word, any more than frets that the boy should miss such a +good place.' 'Well, but since I did say that I should have no +objection to try him, I shall keep my word; let him come +to-morrow. Let them both have a fair trial, and at the end of +the month I can decide which I like best, and which we had +better keep.'</p> + +<p>Dismissed with these orders, Mrs. Pomfret hastened to +report all that had passed to the cook, like a favourite minister, +proud to display the extent of her secret influence. In the +morning Felix, the cook's nephew, arrived; and, the moment +he came into the kitchen, every eye, even the scullion's, was +fixed upon him with approbation, and afterwards glanced upon +Franklin with contempt—contempt which Franklin could not +endure without some confusion, though quite unconscious of +having deserved it; nor, upon the most impartial and cool +self-examination, could he comprehend the justice of his +judges. He perceived indeed—for the comparisons were +minutely made in audible and scornful whispers—that Felix +was a much handsomer, or as the kitchen maid expressed it, +a much more genteeler gentlemanly looking like sort of person +than he was; and he was made to understand that he wanted +a frill to his shirt, a cravat, a pair of thin shoes, and, above +all, shoe-strings, besides other nameless advantages, which +justly made his rival the admiration of the kitchen. However, +upon calling to mind all that his friend Mr. Spencer had ever +said to him, he could not recollect his having warned him that +shoe-strings were indispensable requisites to the character of +a good servant; so that he could only comfort himself with +resolving, if possible, to make amends for these deficiencies, +and to dissipate the prejudices which he saw were formed +against him, by the strictest adherence to all that his tutor<span class="pagenum">[59]</span> +had taught him to be his duty. He hoped to secure the +approbation of his mistress by scrupulous obedience to all +her commands, and faithful care of all that belonged to her. +At the same time he flattered himself he should win the +goodwill of his fellow-servants by showing a constant desire to +oblige them. He pursued this plan of conduct steadily for +nearly three weeks, and found that he succeeded beyond his expectations +in pleasing his mistress; but unfortunately he found +it more difficult to please his fellow-servants, and he sometimes +offended when he least expected it. He had made great +progress in the affections of Corkscrew, the butler, by working +indeed very hard for him, and doing every day at least half +his business. But one unfortunate night the butler was gone +out; the bell rang: he went upstairs; and his mistress asking +where Corkscrew was, he answered that he was gone out. +'Where to?' said his mistress. 'I don't know,' answered +Franklin. And, as he had told exactly the truth, and meant +to do no harm, he was surprised, at the butler's return, when +he repeated to him what had passed, at receiving a sudden +box on the ear, and the appellation of a mischievous, impertinent, +mean-spirited brat.</p> + +<p>'Mischievous, impertinent, mean!' repeated Franklin to +himself; but, looking in the butler's face, which was a deeper +scarlet than usual, he judged that he was far from sober, and +did not doubt but that the next morning, when he came to the +use of his reason, he would be sensible of his injustice, and +apologise for his box of the ear. But no apology coming all +day, Franklin at last ventured to request an explanation, or +rather, to ask what he had best do on the next occasion. +'Why,' said Corkscrew, 'when mistress asked for me, how +came you to say I was gone out?' 'Because, you know, I +saw you go out.' 'And when she asked you where I was +gone, how came you to say that you did not know?' +'Because, indeed, I did not.' 'You are a stupid blockhead! +could you not say I was gone to the washerwoman's?' 'But +<i>were</i> you?' said Franklin. 'Was I?' cried Corkscrew, and +looked as if he would have struck him again: 'how dare you +give me the lie, Mr. Hypocrite? You would be ready enough, +I'll be bound, to make excuses for yourself. Why are not +mistress's clogs cleaned? Go along and blacken 'em, this +minute, and send Felix to me.'<span class="pagenum">[60]</span></p> + +<p>From this time forward Felix alone was privileged to enter +the butler's pantry. Felix became the favourite of Corkscrew; +and, though Franklin by no means sought to pry into the +mysteries of their private conferences, nor ever entered without +knocking at the door, yet it was his fate once to be sent of a +message at an unlucky time; and, as the door was half-open, +he could not avoid seeing Felix drinking a bumper of red +liquor, which he could not help suspecting to be wine; and, +as the decanter, which usually went upstairs after dinner, was +at this time in the butler's grasp, without any stopper in it, he +was involuntarily forced to suspect they were drinking his +mistress's wine.</p> + +<p>Nor were the bumpers of port the only unlawful rewards +which Felix received: his aunt, the cook, had occasion for his +assistance, and she had many delicious <i>douceurs</i> in her gift. +Many a handful of currants, many a half-custard, many a +triangular remnant of pie, besides the choice of his own meal +at breakfast, dinner, and supper, fell to the share of the +favourite Felix; whilst Franklin was neglected, though he +took the utmost pains to please the cook in all honourable +service, and, when she was hot, angry, or hurried, he was +always at hand to help her; and in the hour of adversity, +when the clock struck five, and no dinner was dished, and no +kitchen-maid with twenty pair of hands was to be had, +Franklin would answer to her call, with flowers to garnish her +dishes, and presence of mind to know, in the midst of the +commotion, where everything that was wanting was to be +found; so that, quick as lightning, all difficulties vanished +before him. Yet when the danger was over, and the hour +of adversity had passed, the ungrateful cook would forget her +benefactor, and, when it came to his supper time, would throw +him, with a carelessness that touched him sensibly, anything +which the other servants were too nice to eat. All this +Franklin bore with fortitude; nor did he envy Felix the +dainties which he ate, sometimes close beside him: 'For,' +said he to himself, 'I have a clear conscience, and that is +more than Felix can have. I know how he wins cook's +favour too well, and I fancy I know how I have offended her; +for since the day I saw the basket, she has done nothing but +huff me.'</p> + +<p>The history of the basket was this. Mrs. Pomfret, the<span class="pagenum">[61]</span> +housekeeper, had several times, directly and indirectly, given +the world below to understand that she and her mistress +thought there was a prodigious quantity of meat eaten of late. +Now, when she spoke, it was usually at dinner time; she +always looked, or Franklin imagined that she looked, suspiciously +at him. Other people looked more maliciously; but, +as he felt himself perfectly innocent, he went on eating his +dinner in silence.</p> + +<p>But at length it was time to explain. One Sunday there +appeared a handsome sirloin of beef, which before noon on +Monday had shrunk almost to the bare bone, and presented +such a deplorable spectacle to the opening eyes of Mrs. +Pomfret that her long-smothered indignation burst forth, and +she boldly declared she was now certain there had been foul +play, and she would have the beef found, or she would know +why. She spoke, but no beef appeared, till Franklin, with a +look of sudden recollection, cried, 'Did not I see something +like a piece of beef in a basket in the dairy?—I think——'</p> + +<p>The cook, as if somebody had smote her a deadly blow, +grew pale; but, suddenly recovering the use of her speech, +turned upon Franklin, and, with a voice of thunder, gave him +the lie direct; and forthwith, taking Mrs. Pomfret by the ruffle, +led the way to the dairy, declaring she could defy the world—'that +so she could, and would.' 'There, ma'am,' said she +kicking an empty basket which lay on the floor—'there's +malice for you. Ask him why he don't show you the beef in +the basket.' 'I thought I saw——' poor Franklin began. +'You thought you saw!' cried the cook, coming close up to +him with kimboed arms, and looking like a dragon; 'and +pray, sir, what business has such a one as you to think you +see? And pray, ma'am, will you be pleased to speak—perhaps, +ma'am, he'll condescend to obey you—ma'am, will +you be pleased to forbid him my dairy? for here he comes +prying and spying about; and how, ma'am, am I to answer +for my butter and cream, or anything at all? I'm sure it's +what I can't pretend to, unless you do me the justice to forbid +him my places.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pomfret, whose eyes were blinded by her prejudices +against the folks of the <i>Villaintropic Society</i>, and also by her +secret jealousy of a boy whom she deemed to be a growing +favourite of her mistress's, took part with the cook, and ended,<span class="pagenum">[62]</span> +as she began, with a firm persuasion that Franklin was the +guilty person. 'Let him alone, let him alone!' said she, 'he +has as many turns and windings as a hare; but we shall catch +him yet, I'll be bound, in some of his doublings. I knew the +nature of him well enough, from the first time I ever set my +eyes upon him; but mistress shall have her own way, and see +the end of it.'</p> + +<p>These words, and the bitter sense of injustice, drew tears at +length fast down the proud cheek of Franklin, which might +possibly have touched Mrs. Pomfret, if Felix, with a sneer, had +not called them <i>crocodile tears</i>. 'Felix, too!' thought he; +'this is too much.' In fact, Felix had till now professed himself +his firm ally, and had on his part received from Franklin +unequivocal proofs of friendship; for it must be told that every +other morning, when it was Felix's turn to get breakfast, Felix +never was up in decent time, and must inevitably have come +to public disgrace if Franklin had not got all the breakfast +things ready for him, the bread and butter spread, and the +toast toasted; and had not, moreover, regularly, when the +clock struck eight, and Mrs. Pomfret's foot was heard overhead, +run to call the sleeping Felix, and helped him constantly +through the hurry of getting dressed one instant before the +housekeeper came downstairs. All this could not but be +present to his memory; but, scorning to reproach him, +Franklin wiped away his crocodile tears, and preserved a +magnanimous silence.</p> + +<p>The hour of retribution was; however, not so far off as Felix +imagined. Cunning people may go on cleverly in their devices +for some time; but although they may escape once, twice, +perhaps ninety-nine times, what does that signify?—for the +hundredth time they come to shame, and lose all their character. +Grown bold by frequent success, Felix became more careless +in his operations; and it happened that one day he met his +mistress full in the passage, as he was going on one of the +cook's secret errands. 'Where are you going, Felix?' said +his mistress. 'To the washerwoman's, ma'am,' answered he, +with his usual effrontery. 'Very well,' said she. 'Call at the +bookseller's in—stay, I must write down the direction. +Pomfret,' said she, opening the housekeeper's room door. +'have you a bit of paper?' Pomfret came with the writing-paper, +and looked very angry to see that Felix was going out<span class="pagenum">[63]</span> +without her knowledge; so, while Mrs. Churchill was writing +the direction, she stood talking to him about it; whilst he, in +the greatest terror imaginable, looked up in her face as she +spoke; but was all the time intent on parrying on the other +side the attacks of a little French dog of his mistress's, which, +unluckily for him, had followed her into the passage. Manchon +was extremely fond of Felix, who, by way of pleasing his +mistress, had paid most assiduous court to her dog; yet now +his caresses were rather troublesome. Manchon leaped up, +and was not to be rebuffed. 'Poor fellow—poor fellow—down! +down! poor fellow!' cried Felix, and put him away. But +Manchon leaped up again, and began smelling near the fatal +pocket in a most alarming manner. 'You will see by this +direction where you are to go,' said his mistress. 'Manchon, +come here—and you will be so good as to bring me—down! +down! Manchon, be quiet!' But Manchon knew better—he +had now got his head into Felix's pocket, and would not +be quiet till he had drawn from thence, rustling out of its brown +paper, half a cold turkey, which had been missing since morning. +'My cold turkey, as I'm alive!' exclaimed the housekeeper, +darting upon it with horror and amazement. 'What +is all this?' said Mrs. Churchill, in a composed voice. 'I +don't know, ma'am,' answered Felix, so confused that he knew +not what to say; 'but——' 'But what?' cried Mrs. Pomfret, +indignation flashing from her eyes. 'But what?' repeated +his mistress, waiting for his reply with a calm air of attention, +which still more disconcerted Felix; for, though with an angry +person he might have some chance of escape, he knew that he +could not invent any excuse in such circumstances, which could +stand the examination of a person in her sober senses. He +was struck dumb. 'Speak,' said Mrs. Churchill, in a still +lower tone; 'I am ready to hear all you have to say. In my +house everybody shall have justice; speak—but what?' +'<i>But</i>,' stammered Felix; and, after in vain attempting to +equivocate, confessed that he was going to take the turkey to +his cousin's; but he threw all the blame upon his aunt, the +cook, who, he said, had ordered him upon this expedition.</p> + +<p>The cook was now summoned; but she totally denied all +knowledge of the affair, with the same violence with which she +had lately confounded Franklin about the beef in the basket; +not entirely, however, with the same success; for Felix, perceiving<span class="pagenum">[64]</span> +by his mistress's eye that she was on the point of +desiring him to leave the house immediately; and not being +very willing to leave a place in which he had lived so well with +the butler, did not hesitate to confront his aunt with assurance +equal to her own. He knew how to bring his charge home to +her. He produced a note in her own handwriting, the purport +of which was to request her cousin's acceptance of 'some +<i>delicate cold turkey</i>,' and to beg she would send her, by the +return of the bearer, a little of her cherry-brandy.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Churchill coolly wrote upon the back of the note her +cook's discharge, and informed Felix she had no further +occasion for his services, but, upon his pleading with many +tears, which Franklin did not call <i>crocodile tears</i>, that he was +so young, that he was under the dominion of his aunt, he +touched Mrs. Pomfret's compassion, and she obtained for him +permission to stay till the end of the month, to give him yet +a chance of redeeming his character.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pomfret, now seeing how far she had been imposed +upon, resolved, for the future, to be more upon her guard with +Felix, and felt that she had treated Franklin with great injustice, +when she accused him of malpractices about the sirloin of +beef.</p> + +<p>Good people, when they are made sensible that they have +treated any one with injustice, are impatient to have an opportunity +to rectify their mistake; and Mrs. Pomfret was now +prepared to see everything which Franklin did in the most +favourable point of view; especially as the next day she +discovered that it was he who every morning boiled the water +for her tea, and buttered her toast—services for which she had +always thought she was indebted to Felix. Besides, she had +rated Felix's abilities very highly, because he made up her +weekly accounts for her; but unluckily once, when Franklin +was out of the way, and she brought a bill in a hurry to her +favourite to cast up, she discovered that he did not know how +to cast up pounds, shillings, and pence, and he was obliged to +confess that she must wait till Franklin came home.</p> + +<p>But, passing over a number of small incidents which +gradually unfolded the character of the two boys, we must +proceed to a more serious affair.</p> + +<p>Corkscrew frequently, after he had finished taking away +supper, and after the housekeeper was gone to bed, sallied forth<span class="pagenum">[65]</span> +to a neighbouring alehouse to drink with his friends. The alehouse +was kept by that cousin of Felix's who was so fond of +'<i>delicate</i> cold turkey,' and who had such choice cherry-brandy. +Corkscrew kept the key of the house door, so that he could +return home whenever he thought proper; and, if he should +by accident be called for by his mistress after supper, Felix +knew where to find him, and did not scruple to make any of +those excuses which poor Franklin had too much integrity +to use.</p> + +<p>All these precautions taken, the butler was at liberty to +indulge his favourite passion, which so increased with indulgence +that his wages were by no means sufficient to support +him in this way of life. Every day he felt less resolution to +break through his bad habits; for every day drinking became +more necessary to him. His health was ruined. With a red, +pimpled, bloated face, emaciated legs, and a swelled, diseased +body, he appeared the victim of intoxication. In the morning, +when he got up, his hands trembled, his spirits flagged, he +could do nothing until he had taken a dram—an operation +which he was obliged to repeat several times in the course of +the day, as all those wretched people <i>must</i> who once acquire +this habit.</p> + +<p>He had run up a long bill at the alehouse which he frequented; +and the landlord, who grew urgent for his money, +refused to give further credit.</p> + +<p>One night, when Corkscrew had drunk enough only to +make him fretful, he leaned with his elbow surlily upon the +table, began to quarrel with the landlord, and swore that he +had not of late treated him like a gentleman. To which the +landlord coolly replied, 'That as long as he had paid like a +gentleman, he had been treated like one, and <i>that</i> was as much +as any one could expect, or, at any rate, as much as any one +would meet with in this world.' For the truth of this assertion +he appealed, laughing, to a party of men who were drinking in +the room. The men, however, took part with Corkscrew, and, +drawing him over to their table, made him sit down with them. +They were in high good-humour, and the butler soon grew so +intimate with them that, in the openness of his heart, he soon +communicated to them not only all his own affairs, but all that +he knew, and more than all that he knew, of his mistress's.</p> + +<p>His new friends were by no means uninterested by his conversation,<span class="pagenum">[66]</span> +and encouraged him as much as possible to talk; +for they had secret views, which the butler was by no means +sufficiently sober to discover.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Churchill had some fine old family plate; and these +men belonged to a gang of housebreakers. Before they parted +with Corkscrew, they engaged him to meet them again the +next night; their intimacy was still more closely cemented. +One of the men actually offered to lend Corkscrew three guineas +towards the payment of his debt, and hinted that, if he thought +proper, he could easily get the whole cleared off. Upon this +hint, Corkscrew became all attention, till, after some hesitation +on their part, and repeated promises of secrecy on his, they +at length disclosed their plans to him. They gave him to +understand that, if he would assist in letting them into his +mistress's house, they would let him have an ample share in +the booty. The butler, who had the reputation of being an +honest man, and indeed whose integrity had hitherto been +proof against everything but his mistress's port, turned pale +and trembled at this proposal, drank two or three bumpers to +drown thought, and promised to give an answer the next day.</p> + +<p>He went home more than half-intoxicated. His mind was +so full of what had passed, that he could not help bragging to +Felix, whom he found awake at his return, that he could have +his bill paid off at the alehouse whenever he pleased; dropping, +besides, some hints which were not lost upon Felix.</p> + +<p>In the morning Felix reminded him of the things which he +had said; and Corkscrew, alarmed, endeavoured to evade his +questions by saying that he was not in his senses when he +talked in that manner. Nothing, however, that he could urge +made any impression upon Felix, whose recollection on the +subject was perfectly distinct, and who had too much cunning +himself, and too little confidence in his companion, to be the +dupe of his dissimulation. The butler knew not what to do +when he saw that Felix was absolutely determined either to +betray their scheme or to become a sharer in the booty.</p> + +<p>The next night came, and he was now to make a final +decision; either to determine on breaking off entirely with his +new acquaintances, or taking Felix with him to join in the +plot.</p> + +<p>His debt, his love of drinking, the impossibility of indulging +it without a fresh supply of money, all came into his mind at<span class="pagenum">[67]</span> +once and conquered his remaining scruples. It is said by +those whose fatal experience gives them a right to be believed, +that a drunkard will sacrifice anything, everything, sooner than +the pleasure of habitual intoxication.</p> + +<p>How much easier is it never to begin a bad custom than to +break through it when once formed!</p> + +<p>The hour of rendezvous came, and Corkscrew went to the +alehouse, where he found the housebreakers waiting for him, +and a glass of brandy ready poured out. He sighed—drank—hesitated—drank +again—heard the landlord talk of his bill, +saw the money produced which would pay it in a moment—drank +again—cursed himself, and, giving his hand to the villain +who was whispering in his ear, swore that he could not help it, +and must do as they would have him. They required of him +to give up the key of the house door, that they might get +another made by it. He had left it with Felix, and was now +obliged to explain the new difficulty which had arisen. Felix +knew enough to ruin them, and must therefore be won over. +This was no very difficult task; he had a strong desire to have +some worked cravats, and the butler knew enough of him to +believe that this would be a sufficient bribe. The cravats were +bought and shown to Felix. He thought them the only things +wanting to make him a complete fine gentleman; and to go +without them, especially when he had once seen himself in the +glass with one tied on in a splendid bow, appeared impossible. +Even this paltry temptation, working upon his vanity, at length +prevailed with a boy whose integrity had long been corrupted +by the habits of petty pilfering and daily falsehood. +It was agreed that, the first time his mistress sent him out on +a message, he should carry the key of the house door to his +cousin's, and deliver it into the hands of one of the gang, who +were there in waiting for it. Such was the scheme.</p> + +<p>Felix, the night after all this had been planned, went to bed +and fell fast asleep; but the butler, who had not yet stifled the +voice of conscience, felt, in the silence of the night, so insupportably +miserable that, instead of going to rest, he stole +softly into the pantry for a bottle of his mistress's wine, and +there drinking glass after glass, he stayed till he became so far +intoxicated that, though he contrived to find his way back to +bed, he could by no means undress himself. Without any +power of recollection, he flung himself upon the bed, leaving<span class="pagenum">[68]</span> +his candle half hanging out of the candlestick beside him. +Franklin slept in the next room to him, and presently awaking, +thought he perceived a strong smell of something burning. He +jumped up, and seeing a light under the butler's door, gently +opened it, and, to his astonishment, beheld one of the bed +curtains in flames. He immediately ran to the butler, and +pulled him with all his force to rouse him from his lethargy. +He came to his senses at length, but was so terrified and so +helpless that, if it had not been for Franklin, the whole house +would soon inevitably have been on fire. Felix, trembling +and cowardly, knew not what to do; and it was curious to see +him obeying Franklin, whose turn it now was to command. +Franklin ran upstairs to awaken Mrs. Pomfret, whose terror of +fire was so great that she came from her room almost out of +her senses, whilst he, with the greatest presence of mind, +recollected where he had seen two large tubs of water, which +the maids had prepared the night before for their washing, and +seizing the wet linen which had been left to soak, he threw them +upon the flames. He exerted himself with so much good +sense, that the fire was presently extinguished.</p> + +<p>Everything was now once more safe and quiet. Mrs. Pomfret, +recovering from her fright, postponed all inquiries till the +morning, and rejoiced that her mistress had not been awakened, +whilst Corkscrew flattered himself that he should be able to +conceal the true cause of the accident.</p> + +<p>'Don't you tell Mrs. Pomfret where you found the candle +when you came into the room,' said he to Franklin. 'If she +asks me, you know I must tell the truth,' replied he. 'Must!' +repeated Felix, sneeringly; 'what, you <i>must</i> be a tell-tale!' +'No, I never told any tales of anybody, and I should be very +sorry to get any one into a scrape; but for all that I shall not +tell a lie, either for myself or anybody else, let you call me +what names you will.' 'But if I were to give you something +that you would like,' said Corkscrew—'something that I know +you would like?' repeated Felix. 'Nothing you can give me +will do,' answered Franklin, steadily; 'so it is useless to say +any more about it—I hope I shall not be questioned.' In this +hope he was mistaken; for the first thing Mrs. Pomfret did in +the morning was to come into the room to examine and deplore +the burnt curtains, whilst Corkscrew stood by, endeavouring to +exculpate himself by all the excuses he could invent.<span class="pagenum">[69]</span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Pomfret, however, though sometimes blinded by her +prejudices, was no fool; and it was absolutely impossible to +make her believe that a candle which had been left on the +hearth, where Corkscrew protested he had left it, could +have set curtains on fire which were at least six feet distant. +Turning short round to Franklin, she desired that he would +show her where he found the candle when he came into the +room. He took up the candlestick; but the moment the +housekeeper cast her eye upon it, she snatched it from his +hands. 'How did this candlestick come here? This was not +the candlestick you found here last night,' cried she. 'Yes, +indeed it was,' answered Franklin. 'That is impossible,' +retorted she, vehemently, 'for I left this candlestick with my +own hands, last night, in the hall, the last thing I did, after you,' +said she, turning to the butler, 'was gone to bed—I'm sure of +it. Nay, don't you recollect my taking this <i>japanned candlestick</i> +out of your hand, and making you to go up to bed with +the brass one, and I bolted the door at the stair-head after +you?'</p> + +<p>This was all very true; but Corkscrew had afterwards gone +down from his room by a back staircase, unbolted that door, +and, upon his return from the alehouse, had taken the japanned +candlestick by mistake upstairs, and had left the brass one in +its stead upon the hall table.</p> + +<p>'Oh, ma'am,' said Felix, 'indeed you forget; for Mr. +Corkscrew came into my room to desire me to call him betimes +in the morning, and I happened to take particular notice, and +he had the japanned candlestick in his hand, and that was just +as I heard you bolting the door. Indeed, ma'am, you forget.' +'Indeed, sir,' retorted Mrs. Pomfret, rising in anger, 'I do not +forget; I'm not come to be <i>superannuated</i> yet, I hope. How +do you dare to tell me I forget?' 'Oh, ma'am,' cried Felix, +'I beg your pardon, I did not—I did not mean to say you +forgot, but only I thought, perhaps, you might not particularly +remember; for if you please to recollect——' 'I won't please +to recollect just whatever you please, sir! Hold your tongue; +why should you poke yourself into this scrape; what have you +to do with it, I should be glad to know?' 'Nothing in the +world, oh nothing in the world; I'm sure I beg your pardon, +ma'am,' answered Felix, in a soft tone; and, sneaking off, left +his friend Corkscrew to fight his own battle, secretly resolving<span class="pagenum">[70]</span> +to desert in good time, if he saw any danger of the alehouse +transactions coming to light.</p> + +<p>Corkscrew could make but very blundering excuses for himself; +and, conscious of guilt, he turned pale, and appeared so +much more terrified than butlers usually appear when detected +in a lie, that Mrs. Pomfret resolved, as she said, to sift the +matter to the bottom. Impatiently did she wait till the clock +struck nine, and her mistress's bell rang, the signal for her +attendance at her levee. 'How do you find yourself this +morning, ma'am?' said she, undrawing the curtains. 'Very +sleepy, indeed,' answered her mistress in a drowsy voice; 'I +think I must sleep half an hour longer—shut the curtains.' +'As you please, ma'am; but I suppose I had better open a +little of the window shutter, for it's past nine.' 'But just +struck.' 'Oh dear, ma'am, it struck before I came upstairs, +and you know we are twenty minutes slow—Lord bless us!' +exclaimed Mrs. Pomfret, as she let fall the bar of the window, +which roused her mistress. 'I'm sure I beg your pardon a +thousand times—it's only the bar—because I had this great +key in my hand.' 'Put down the key, then, or you'll knock +something else down; and you may open the shutters now, for +I'm quite awake.' 'Dear me! I'm so sorry to think of disturbing +you,' cried Mrs. Pomfret, at the same time throwing +the shutters wide open; 'but, to be sure, ma'am, I have something +to tell you which won't let you sleep again in a hurry. I +brought up this here key of the house door for reasons of my +own, which I'm sure you'll approve of; but I'm not come to +that part of my story yet. I hope you were not disturbed by +the noise in the house last night, ma'am.' 'I heard no noise.' +'I am surprised at that, though,' continued Mrs. Pomfret, and +proceeded to give a most ample account of the fire, of her fears +and her suspicions. 'To be sure, ma'am, what I say <i>is</i>, that +without the spirit of prophecy one can nowadays account for +what has passed. I'm quite clear in my own judgment that +Mr. Corkscrew must have been out last night after I went to +bed; for, besides the japanned candlestick, which of itself I'm +sure is strong enough to hang a man, there's another circumstance, +ma'am, that certifies it to me—though I have not mentioned +it, ma'am, to no one yet,' lowering her voice—'Franklin, +when I questioned him, told me that he left the lantern in the +outside porch in the court last night, and this morning it was on<span class="pagenum">[71]</span> +the kitchen table. Now, ma'am, that lantern could not come +without hands; and I could not forget about that, you know; +for Franklin says he's sure he left the lantern out.' 'And do +you believe <i>him</i>?' inquired her mistress. 'To be sure, ma'am—how +can I help believing him? I never found him out in +the least symptom of a lie since ever he came into the house; +so one can't help believing in him, like him or not.' 'Without +meaning to tell a falsehood, however,' said the lady, 'he might +make a mistake.' 'No, ma'am, he never makes mistakes; it is +not his way to go gossiping and tattling; he never tells anything +till he's asked, and then it's fit he should. About the +sirloin of beef, and all, he was right in the end, I found, to do +him justice; and I'm sure he's right now about the lantern—he's +<i>always right</i>.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Churchill could not help smiling.</p> + +<p>'If you had seen him, ma'am, last night in the midst of the +fire—I'm sure we may thank him that we were not burned +alive in our beds—and I shall never forget his coming to call +me. Poor fellow! he that I was always scolding and scolding, +enough to make him hate me. But he's too good to hate +anybody; and I'll be bound I'll make it up to him now.' +'Take care that you don't go from one extreme into another, +Pomfret; don't spoil the boy.' 'No, ma'am, there's no danger +of that; but I'm sure if you had seen him last night yourself, +you would think he deserved to be rewarded.' 'And so he +shall be rewarded,' said Mrs. Churchill; 'but I will try him +more fully yet.' 'There's no occasion, I think, for trying him +any more, ma'am,' said Mrs. Pomfret, who was as violent in +her likings as in her dislikes. 'Pray desire,' continued her +mistress, 'that he will bring up breakfast this morning; and +leave the key of the house door, Pomfret, with me.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i008f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i008t.jpg" alt="i008t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption">'<i>You know this key? I shall trust it in your care.</i>'</p> +</div> + +<p>When Franklin brought the urn into the breakfast-parlour, +his mistress was standing by the fire with the key in her hand. +She spoke to him of his last night's exertions in terms of much +approbation. 'How long have you lived with me?' said she, +pausing; 'three weeks, I think?' 'Three weeks and four +days, madam.' 'That is but a short time; yet you have conducted +yourself so as to make me think I may depend upon +you. You know this key?' 'I believe, madam, it is the +key of the house door.' 'It is; I shall trust it in your care. +It is a great trust for so young a person as you are.' Franklin +<span class="pagenum">[73]</span>stood silent, with a firm but modest look. 'If you take the +charge of this key,' continued his mistress, 'remember it is +upon condition that you never give it out of your own hands. +In the daytime it must not be left in the door. You must +not tell anybody where you keep it at night; and the house +door must not be unlocked after eleven o'clock at night, +unless by my orders. Will you take charge of the key upon +these conditions?' 'I will, madam, do anything you order +me,' said Franklin, and received the key from her hands.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Churchill's orders were made known, they caused +many secret marvellings and murmurings. Corkscrew and +Felix were disconcerted, and dared not openly avow their discontent; +and they treated Franklin with the greatest seeming +kindness and cordiality.</p> + +<p>Everything went on smoothly for three days. The butler +never attempted his usual midnight visits to the alehouse, but +went to bed in proper time, and paid particular court to Mrs. +Pomfret, in order to dispel her suspicions. She had never had +any idea of the real fact, that he and Felix were joined in a +plot with housebreakers to rob the house, but thought he only +went out at irregular hours to indulge himself in his passion +for drinking.</p> + +<p>Thus stood affairs the night before Mrs. Churchill's birthday. +Corkscrew, by the housekeeper's means, ventured to +present a petition that he might go to the play the next day, +and his request was granted. Franklin came into the kitchen +just when all the servants had gathered round the butler, who, +with great importance, was reading aloud the play-bill. Everybody +present soon began to speak at once, and with great enthusiasm +talked of the playhouse, the actors and actresses; +and then Felix, in the first pause, turned to Franklin and +said, 'Lord, you know nothing of all this! <i>you</i> never went to +a play, did you?' 'Never,' said Franklin, and felt, he did +not know why, a little ashamed; and he longed extremely +to go to one. 'How should you like to go to the play with +me to-morrow?' said Corkscrew. 'Oh,' exclaimed Franklin, +'I should like it exceedingly.' 'And do you think mistress +would let you if I asked?' 'I think—maybe she would, if +Mrs. Pomfret asked her.' 'But then you have no money, +have you?' 'No,' said Franklin, sighing. 'But stay,' said +Corkscrew, 'what I'm thinking of is, that if mistress will let<span class="pagenum">[74]</span> +you go, I'll treat you myself, rather than that you should be +disappointed.'</p> + +<p>Delight, surprise, and gratitude appeared in Franklin's face +at these words. Corkscrew rejoiced to see that now, at least, +he had found a most powerful temptation. 'Well, then, I'll +go just now and ask her. In the meantime, lend me the key +of the house door for a minute or two.' 'The key!' answered +Franklin, starting; 'I'm sorry, but I can't do that, for I've +promised my mistress never to let it out of my own hands.' +'But how will she know anything of the matter? Run, run, +and get it for us.' 'No, I <i>cannot</i>,' replied Franklin, resisting +the push which the butler gave his shoulder. 'You can't?' +cried Corkscrew, changing his tone; 'then, sir, I can't take +you to the play.' 'Very well, sir,' said Franklin, sorrowfully, +but with steadiness. 'Very well, sir,' said Felix, mimicking +him, 'you need not look so important, nor fancy yourself such +a great man, because you're master of a key.'</p> + +<p>'Say no more to him,' interrupted Corkscrew; 'let him +alone to take his own way. Felix, you would have no objection, +I suppose, to going to the play with me?' 'Oh, I should +like it of all things, if I did not come between anybody else. +But come, come!' added the hypocrite, assuming a tone of +friendly persuasion, 'you won't be such a blockhead, Franklin, +as to lose going to the play for nothing; it's only just obstinacy. +What harm can it do to lend Mr. Corkscrew the key for five +minutes? he'll give it you back again safe and sound.' 'I +don't doubt <i>that</i>,' answered Franklin. 'Then it must be all +because you don't wish to oblige Mr. Corkscrew.' 'No, but +I can't oblige him in this; for, as I told you before, my +mistress trusted me. I promised never to let the key out of +my own hands, and you would not have me break my trust. +Mr. Spencer told me <i>that</i> was worse than <i>robbing</i>.'</p> + +<p>At the word <i>robbing</i> both Corkscrew and Felix involuntarily +cast down their eyes, and turned the conversation immediately, +saying that he did very right, that they did not really want +the key, and had only asked for it just to try if he would keep +his word. 'Shake hands,' said Corkscrew, 'I am glad to find +you out to be an honest fellow!' 'I am sorry you did not +think me an honest fellow before, Mr. Corkscrew,' said +Franklin giving his hand rather proudly, and he walked +away.<span class="pagenum">[75]</span></p> + +<p>'We shall make no hand of this prig,' said Corkscrew. 'But +we'll have the key from him in spite of all his obstinacy,' said +Felix; 'and let him make his story good as he can afterwards. +He shall repent of these airs. To-night I'll watch him, and +find out where he hides the key; and when he's asleep we'll +get it without thanking him.'</p> + +<p>This plan Felix put into execution. They discovered the +place where Franklin kept the key at night, stole it whilst he +slept, took off the impression in wax, and carefully replaced it +in Franklin's trunk, exactly where they found it.</p> + +<p>Probably our young readers cannot guess what use they +could mean to make of this impression of the key in wax. +Knowing how to do mischief is very different from wishing to +do it, and the most innocent persons are generally the least +ignorant. By means of the impression which they had thus +obtained, Corkscrew and Felix proposed to get a false key made +by Picklock, a smith who belonged to their gang of housebreakers; +and with this false key knew they could open the +door whenever they pleased.</p> + +<p>Little suspecting what had happened, Franklin, the next +morning, went to unlock the house door as usual; but finding +the key entangled in the lock, he took it out to examine it, +and perceived a lump of wax sticking in one of the wards. +Struck with this circumstance, it brought to his mind all that +had passed the preceding evening, and, being sure that he +had no wax near the key, he began to suspect what had +happened; and he could not help recollecting what he had +once heard Felix say, that 'give him but a halfpenny worth of +wax, and he could open the strongest lock that ever was made +by hands.'</p> + +<p>All these things considered, Franklin resolved to take the +key just as it was, with the wax sticking to it, to his mistress.</p> + +<p>'I was not mistaken when I thought I might trust <i>you</i> with +this key,' said Mrs. Churchill, after she had heard his story. +'My brother will be here to-day, and I shall consult him. In +the meantime, say nothing of what has passed.'</p> + +<p>Evening came, and after tea Mr. Spencer sent for Franklin +upstairs. 'So, Mr. Franklin,' said he, 'I'm glad to find you +are in such high <i>trust</i> in this family.' Franklin bowed. 'But +you have lost, I understand, the pleasure of going to the play +to-night.' 'I don't think anything—much, I mean, of that,<span class="pagenum">[76]</span> +sir,' answered Franklin, smiling. 'Are Corkscrew and Felix +<i>gone</i> to the play?' 'Yes; half an hour ago, sir.' 'Then I +shall look into his room and examine the pantry and the plate +that is under his care.'</p> + +<p>When Mr. Spencer came to examine the pantry, he found +the large salvers and cups in a basket behind the door, and +the other things placed so as to be easily carried off. Nothing +at first appeared in Corkscrew's bedchamber to strengthen +their suspicions, till, just as they were going to leave the room, +Mrs. Pomfret exclaimed, 'Why, if there is not Mr. Corkscrew's +dress coat hanging up there! and if here isn't Felix's fine +cravat that he wanted in such a hurry to go to the play! Why, +sir, they can't be gone to the play. Look at the cravat. Ah! +upon my word I am afraid they are not at the play. No, sir, +you may be sure that they are plotting with their barbarous +gang at the alehouse; and they'll certainly break into the +house to-night. We shall all be murdered in our beds, as +sure as I'm a living woman, sir; but if you'll only take my +advice——' 'Pray, good Mrs. Pomfret,' Mr. Spencer observed, +'don't be alarmed.' 'Nay, sir, but I won't pretend to sleep +in the house, if Franklin isn't to have a blunderbuss, and I a +<i>baggonet</i>.' 'You shall have both, indeed, Mrs. Pomfret; but +don't make such a noise, for everybody will hear you.'</p> + +<p>The love of mystery was the only thing which could have +conquered Mrs. Pomfret's love of talking. She was silent; +and contented herself the rest of the evening with making +signs, looking <i>ominous</i>, and stalking about the house like one +possessed with a secret.</p> + +<p>Escaped from Mrs. Pomfret's fears and advice, Mr. Spencer +went to a shop within a few doors of the alehouse which he +heard Corkscrew frequented, and sent to beg to speak to the +landlord. He came; and, when Mr. Spencer questioned him, +confessed that Corkscrew and Felix were actually drinking in +his house, with two men of suspicious appearance; that, as he +passed through the passage, he heard them disputing about a +key; and that one of them said, 'Since we've got the key, +we'll go about it to-night.' This was sufficient information. +Mr. Spencer, lest the landlord should give them information of +what was going forwards, took him along with him to Bow +Street.</p> + +<p>A constable and proper assistance was sent to Mrs.<span class="pagenum">[77]</span> +Churchill's. They stationed themselves in a back parlour +which opened on a passage leading to the butler's pantry, +where the plate was kept. A little after midnight they heard +the hall door open. Corkscrew and his accomplices went +directly to the pantry; and there Mr. Spencer and the +constable immediately secured them, as they were carrying off +their booty.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Churchill and Pomfret had spent the night at the +house of an acquaintance in the same street. 'Well, ma'am,' +said Mrs. Pomfret, who had heard all the news in the morning, +'the villains are all safe, thank God. I was afraid to go to +the window this morning; but it was my luck to see them all +go by to gaol. They looked so shocking! I am sure I never +shall forget Felix's look to my dying day! But poor Franklin! +ma'am; that boy has the best heart in the world. I could not +get him to give a second look at them as they passed. Poor +fellow! I thought he would have dropped; and he was so +modest, ma'am, when Mr. Spencer spoke to him, and told +him he had done his duty.' 'And did my brother tell him +what reward I intend for him?' 'No, ma'am, and I'm sure +Franklin thinks no more of <i>reward</i> than I do.' 'I intend,' +continued Mrs. Churchill, 'to sell some of my old useless plate, +and to lay it out in an annuity for Franklin's life.' 'La, +ma'am!' exclaimed Mrs. Pomfret, with unfeigned joy, 'I'm +sure you are very good; and I'm very glad of it.' 'And,' +continued Mrs. Churchill, 'here are some tickets for the play, +which I shall beg you, Pomfret, to give him, and to take him +with you.'</p> + +<p>'I am very much obliged to you, indeed, ma'am; and I'll +go with him with all my heart, and choose such plays as won't +do no prejudice to his morality. And, ma'am,' continued +Mrs. Pomfret, 'the night after the fire I left him my great +Bible and my watch, in my will; for I never was more mistaken +at the first in any boy in my born days; but he has won +me by his own <i>deserts</i>, and I shall from this time forth love +all the <i>Villaintropic</i> folks for his sake.'</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[79]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="SIMPLE_SUSAN" id="SIMPLE_SUSAN"></a>SIMPLE SUSAN</h2> + + +<h3>CHAPTER I</h3> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"> +<p class="noin"> +Waked, as her custom was, before the day,<br /> +To do the observance due to sprightly May. +</p> +<p class="right smcap"> +Dryden. +</p> +</div> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">In</span> a retired hamlet on the borders of Wales, between Oswestry +and Shrewsbury, it is still the custom to celebrate the 1st of +May.</p> + +<p>The children of the village, who look forward to this +rural festival with joyful eagerness, usually meet on the last +day of April to make up their nosegays for the morning and +to choose their queen. Their customary place of meeting is +at a hawthorn which stands in a little green nook, open on one +side to a shady lane, and separated on the other side by a +thick sweet-brier and hawthorn hedge from the garden of an +attorney.</p> + +<p>This attorney began the world with nothing, but he +contrived to scrape together a good deal of money, everybody +knew how. He built a new house at the entrance of +the village, and had a large well-fenced garden, yet, notwithstanding +his fences, he never felt himself secure. Such were +his litigious habits and his suspicious temper that he was +constantly at variance with his simple and peaceable neighbours. +Some pig, or dog, or goat, or goose was for ever +trespassing. His complaints and his extortions wearied and +alarmed the whole hamlet. The paths in his fields were at +length unfrequented, his stiles were blocked up with stones, or +stuffed with brambles and briers, so that not a gosling could +creep under, or a giant get over them. Indeed, so careful<span class="pagenum">[80]</span> +were even the village children of giving offence to this irritable +man of the law, that they would not venture to fly a kite near +his fields lest it should entangle in his trees or fall upon his +meadow.</p> + +<p>Mr. Case, for this was the name of our attorney, had a son +and a daughter, to whose education he had not time to attend, +as his whole soul was intent upon accumulating for them a +fortune. For several years he suffered his children to run +wild in the village; but suddenly, on his being appointed to a +considerable agency, he began to think of making his children +a little genteel. He sent his son to learn Latin; he hired a +maid to wait upon his daughter Barbara, and he strictly +forbade her <i>thenceforward</i> to keep company with any of the +poor children who had hitherto been her playfellows. They +were not sorry for this prohibition, because she had been +their tyrant rather than their companion. She was vexed to +observe that her absence was not regretted, and she was +mortified to perceive that she could not humble them by any +display of airs and finery.</p> + +<p>There was one poor girl, amongst her former associates, +to whom she had a peculiar dislike,—Susan Price, a sweet-tempered, +modest, sprightly, industrious lass, who was the +pride and delight of the village. Her father rented a small +farm, and, unfortunately for him, he lived near Attorney Case.</p> + +<p>Barbara used often to sit at her window, watching Susan +at work. Sometimes she saw her in the neat garden raking +the beds or weeding the borders; sometimes she was kneeling +at her beehive with fresh flowers for her bees; sometimes she +was in the poultry yard, scattering corn from her sieve +amongst the eager chickens; and in the evening she was often +seated in a little honeysuckle arbour, with a clean, light, three-legged +deal table before her, upon which she put her plain +work.</p> + +<p>Susan had been taught to work neatly by her good mother, +who was very fond of her, and to whom she was most gratefully +attached.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Price was an intelligent, active, domestic woman; but +her health was not robust. She earned money, however, by +taking in plain work; and she was famous for baking excellent +bread and breakfast cakes. She was respected in the village, +for her conduct as a wife and as a mother, and all were eager<span class="pagenum">[81]</span> +to show her attention. At her door the first branch of hawthorn +was always placed on May morning, and her Susan was +usually Queen of the May.</p> + +<p>It was now time to choose the Queen. The setting sun +shone full upon the pink blossoms of the hawthorn, when the +merry group assembled upon their little green. Barbara was +now walking in sullen state in her father's garden. She +heard the busy voices in the lane, and she concealed herself +behind the high hedge, that she might listen to their +conversation.</p> + +<p>'Where's Susan?' were the first unwelcome words which +she overheard. 'Ay, where's Susan?' repeated Philip, stopping +short in the middle of a new tune that he was playing on +his pipe. 'I wish Susan would come! I want her to sing me +this same tune over again; I have not it yet.'</p> + +<p>'And I wish Susan would come, I'm sure,' cried a little +girl, whose lap was full of primroses. 'Susan will give me +some thread to tie up my nosegays, and she'll show me where +the fresh violets grow; and she has promised to give me a +great bunch of her double cowslips to wear to-morrow. I wish +she would come.'</p> + +<p>'Nothing can be done without Susan! She always shows +us where the nicest flowers are to be found in the lanes and +meadows,' said they. 'She must make up the garlands; and +she shall be Queen of the May!' exclaimed a multitude of +little voices.</p> + +<p>'But she does not come!' said Philip.</p> + +<p>Rose, who was her particular friend, now came forward to +assure the impatient assembly 'that she would answer for it +Susan would come as soon as she possibly could, and that she +probably was detained by business at home.'</p> + +<p>The little electors thought that all business should give way +to theirs, and Rose was despatched to summon her friend +immediately.</p> + +<p>'Tell her to make haste,' cried Philip. 'Attorney Case +dined at the Abbey to-day—luckily for us. If he comes home +and finds us here, maybe he'll drive us away; for he says this +bit of ground belongs to his garden: though that is not true, +I'm sure; for Farmer Price knows, and says, it was always +open to the road. The Attorney wants to get our playground, +so he does. I wish he and his daughter Bab, or Miss Barbara,<span class="pagenum">[82]</span> +as she must now be called, were a hundred miles off, out of +our way, I know. No later than yesterday she threw down +my ninepins in one of her ill-humours, as she was walking by +with her gown all trailing in the dust.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' cried Mary, the little primrose-girl, 'her gown is +always trailing. She does not hold it up nicely, like Susan; +and with all her fine clothes she never looks half so neat. +Mamma says she wishes I may be like Susan, when I grow up +to be a great girl, and so do I. I should not like to look conceited +as Barbara does, if I was ever so rich.'</p> + +<p>'Rich or poor,' said Philip, 'it does not become a girl to +look conceited, much less <i>bold</i>, as Barbara did the other day, +when she was at her father's door without a hat upon her head, +staring at the strange gentleman who stopped hereabout to let +his horse drink. I know what he thought of Bab by his looks, +and of Susan too; for Susan was in her garden, bending +down a branch of the laburnum tree, looking at its yellow +flowers, which were just come out; and when the gentleman +asked her how many miles it was from Shrewsbury, she +answered him so modest!—not bashful, like as if she had +never seen nobody before—but just right: and then she pulled +on her straw hat, which was fallen back with her looking up +at the laburnum, and she went her ways home; and the +gentleman says to me, after she was gone, "Pray, who is that +neat modest girl——?" But I wish Susan would come,' cried +Philip, interrupting himself.</p> + +<p>Susan was all this time, as her friend Rose rightly guessed, +busy at home. She was detained by her father's returning +later than usual. His supper was ready for him nearly an +hour before he came home; and Susan swept up the ashes +twice, and twice put on wood to make a cheerful blaze for him; +but at last, when he did come in, he took no notice of the +blaze or of Susan; and when his wife asked him how he did, +he made no answer, but stood with his back to the fire, looking +very gloomy. Susan put his supper upon the table, and +set his own chair for him; but he pushed away the chair and +turned from the table, saying—'I shall eat nothing, child! +Why have you such a fire to roast me at this time of the year?'</p> + +<p>'You said yesterday, father, I thought, that you liked a +little cheerful wood fire in the evening; and there was a great +shower of hail; your coat is quite wet, we must dry it.'</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[83]</span></p> + +<p>'Take it, then, child,' said he, pulling it off—'I shall soon +have no coat to dry—and take my hat too,' said he, throwing +it upon the ground.</p> + +<p>Susan hung up his hat, put his coat over the back of a chair +to dry, and then stood anxiously looking at her mother, who +was not well; she had this day fatigued herself with baking; +and now, alarmed by her husband's moody behaviour, she sat +down pale and trembling. He threw himself into a chair, +folded his arms, and fixed his eyes upon the fire.</p> + +<p>Susan was the first who ventured to break silence. Happy +the father who has such a daughter as Susan!—her unaltered +sweetness of temper, and her playful, affectionate caresses, at +last somewhat dissipated her father's melancholy.</p> + +<p>He could not be prevailed upon to eat any of the supper +which had been prepared for him; however, with a faint +smile, he told Susan that he thought he could eat one of her +guinea-hen's eggs. She thanked him, and with that nimble +alacrity which marks the desire to please, she ran to her neat +chicken-yard; but, alas! her guinea-hen was not there—it had +strayed into the attorney's garden. She saw it through the +paling, and timidly opening the little gate, she asked Miss +Barbara, who was walking slowly by, to let her come in and +take her guinea-hen. Barbara, who was at this instant reflecting, +with no agreeable feelings, upon the conversation of the +village children, to which she had recently listened, started +when she heard Susan's voice, and with a proud, ill-humoured +look and voice, refused her request.</p> + +<p>'Shut the gate,' said Barbara, 'you have no business in <i>our</i> +garden; and as for your hen, I shall keep it; it is always +flying in here and plaguing us, and my father says it is a +trespasser; and he told me I might catch it and keep it the +next time it got in, and it is in now.' Then Barbara called to +her maid, Betty, and bid her catch the mischievous hen.</p> + +<p>'Oh, my guinea-hen! my pretty guinea-hen!' cried Susan, +as they hunted the frightened, screaming creature from corner +to corner.</p> + +<p>'Here we have got it!' said Betty, holding it fast by the +legs.</p> + +<p>'Now pay damages, Queen Susan, or good-bye to your +pretty guinea-hen,' said Barbara, in an insulting tone.</p> + +<p>'Damages! what damages?' said Susan; 'tell me what I<span class="pagenum">[84]</span> +must pay.' 'A shilling,' said Barbara. 'Oh, if sixpence +would do!' said Susan; 'I have but sixpence of my own in +the world, and here it is.' 'It won't do,' said Barbara, turning +her back. 'Nay, but hear me,' cried Susan; 'let me at +least come in to look for its eggs. I only want <i>one</i> for my +father's supper; you shall have all the rest.' 'What's your +father, or his supper to us? is he so nice that he can eat none +but guinea-hen's eggs?' said Barbara. 'If you want your hen +and your eggs, pay for them, and you'll have them.' 'I have +but sixpence, and you say that won't do,' said Susan, with a +sigh, as she looked at her favourite, which was in the maid's +grasping hands, struggling and screaming in vain.</p> + +<p>Susan retired disconsolate. At the door of her father's +cottage she saw her friend Rose, who was just come to +summon her to the hawthorn bush.</p> + +<p>'They are all at the hawthorn, and I am come for you. +We can do nothing without <i>you</i>, dear Susan,' cried Rose, running +to meet her, at the moment she saw her. 'You are +chosen Queen of the May—come, make haste. But what is +the matter? why do you look so sad?'</p> + +<p>'Ah!' said Susan, 'don't wait for me; I can't come to you, +but,' added she, pointing to the tuft of double cowslips in the +garden, 'gather those for poor little Mary; I promised them +to her, and tell her the violets are under a hedge just opposite +the turnstile, on the right as we go to church. Good-bye! +never mind me; I can't come—I can't stay, for my father +wants me.'</p> + +<p>'But don't turn away your face; I won't keep you a +moment; only tell me what's the matter,' said her friend, +following her into the cottage.</p> + +<p>'Oh, nothing, not much,' said Susan; 'only that I wanted +the egg in a great hurry for father, it would not have vexed +me—to be sure I should have clipped my guinea-hen's wings, +and then she could not have flown over the hedge; but let us +think no more about it, now,' added she, twinkling away a +tear.</p> + +<p>When Rose, however, learnt that her friend's guinea-hen +was detained prisoner by the attorney's daughter, she exclaimed, +with all the honest warmth of indignation, and instantly ran +back to tell the story to her companions.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i009f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i009t.jpg" alt="i009t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>'It won't do,' said Barbara, turning her back.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>'Barbara! ay; like father, like daughter,' cried Farmer +<span class="pagenum">[86]</span> +Price, starting from the thoughtful attitude in which he had +been fixed, and drawing his chair closer to his wife.</p> + +<p>'You see something is amiss with me, wife—I'll tell you +what it is.' As he lowered his voice, Susan, who was not sure +that he wished she should hear what he was going to say, +retired from behind his chair. 'Susan, don't go; sit you down +here, my sweet Susan,' said he, making room for her upon his +chair; 'I believe I was a little cross when I came in first to-night; +but I had something to vex me, as you shall hear.</p> + +<p>'About a fortnight ago, you know, wife,' continued he, +'there was a balloting in our town for the militia; now at that +time I wanted but ten days of forty years of age; and the +attorney told me I was a fool for not calling myself plump +forty. But the truth is the truth, and it is what I think fittest +to be spoken at all times come what will of it. So I was +drawn for a militiaman; but when I thought how loth you and +I would be to part, I was main glad to hear that I could get +off by paying eight or nine guineas for a substitute—only I +had not the nine guineas—for, you know, we had bad luck +with our sheep this year, and they died away one after another—but +that was no excuse, so I went to Attorney Case, and, +with a power of difficulty, I got him to lend me the money; +for which, to be sure, I gave him something, and left my lease +of our farm with him, as he insisted upon it, by way of security +for the loan. Attorney Case is too many for me. He has +found what he calls a <i>flaw</i> in my lease; and the lease, he tells +me, is not worth a farthing, and that he can turn us all out of +our farm to-morrow if he pleases; and sure enough he will +please; for I have thwarted him this day, and he swears +he'll be revenged of me. Indeed, he has begun with me +badly enough already. I'm not come to the worst part of my +story yet——'</p> + +<p>Here Farmer Price made a dead stop; and his wife and +Susan looked up in his face, breathless with anxiety.</p> + +<p>'It must come out,' said he, with a short sigh; 'I must +leave you in three days, wife.'</p> + +<p>'Must you?' said his wife, in a faint, resigned voice. 'Susan, +love, open the window.' Susan ran to open the window, and +then returned to support her mother's head. When she came +a little to herself she sat up, begged that her husband would +go on, and that nothing might be concealed from her. Her<span class="pagenum">[87]</span> +husband had no wish indeed to conceal anything from a wife he +loved so well; but, firm as he was, and steady to his maxim, +that the truth was the thing the fittest to be spoken at all +times, his voice faltered, and it was with great difficulty that +he brought himself to speak the whole truth at this moment.</p> + +<p>The fact was this. Case met Farmer Price as he was +coming home, whistling, from a new-ploughed field. The +attorney had just dined at <i>The Abbey</i>. The Abbey was the +family seat of an opulent baronet in the neighbourhood, to +whom Mr. Case had been agent. The baronet died suddenly, +and his estate and title devolved to a younger brother, who was +now just arrived in the country, and to whom Mr. Case was +eager to pay his court, in hopes of obtaining his favour. Of +the agency he flattered himself that he was pretty secure; and +he thought that he might assume a tone of command towards +the tenants, especially towards one who was some guineas in +debt, and in whose lease there was a flaw.</p> + +<p>Accosting the farmer in a haughty manner, the attorney +began with, 'So, Farmer Price, a word with you, if you please. +Walk on here, man, beside my horse, and you'll hear me. +You have changed your opinion, I hope, about that bit of land—that +corner at the end of my garden?' 'As how, Mr. +Case?' said the farmer. 'As how, man! Why, you said something +about it's not belonging to me, when you heard me talk of +enclosing it the other day.' 'So I did,' said Price, 'and so I do.'</p> + +<p>Provoked and astonished at the firm tone in which these +words were pronounced, the attorney was upon the point of +swearing that he would have his revenge; but, as his passions +were habitually attentive to the <i>letter</i> of the law, he refrained +from any hasty expression, which might, he was aware, in a +court of justice, be hereafter brought against him.</p> + +<p>'My good friend, Mr. Price,' said he, in a soft voice, and +pale with suppressed rage. He forced a smile. 'I'm under +the necessity of calling in the money I lent you some time ago, +and you will please to take notice that it must be paid to-morrow +morning. I wish you a good evening. You have the +money ready for me, I daresay.'</p> + +<p>'No,' said the farmer, 'not a guinea of it; but John +Simpson, who was my substitute, has not left our village yet. +I'll get the money back from him, and go myself, if so be it +must be so, into the militia—so I will.'</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[88]</span></p> + +<p>The attorney did not expect such a determination, and he +represented, in a friendly, hypocritical tone to Price, that he +had no wish to drive him to such an extremity; that it would +be the height of folly in him <i>to run his head against a wall +for no purpose</i>. 'You don't mean to take the corner into your +own garden, do you, Price?' said he. 'I,' said the farmer, +'God forbid! it's none of mine; I never take what does not +belong to me.' 'True, right, very proper, of course,' said Mr. +Case; 'but then you have no interest in life in the land in +question?' 'None.' 'Then why so stiff about it, Price? All +I want of you to say——' 'To say that black is white, which +I won't do, Mr. Case. The ground is a thing not worth talking +of; but it's neither yours nor mine. In my memory, since +the <i>new</i> lane was made, it has always been open to the parish; +and no man shall enclose it with my good-will. Truth is truth, +and must be spoken; justice is justice, and should be done, +Mr. Attorney.'</p> + +<p>'And law is law, Mr. Farmer, and shall have its course, to +your cost,' cried the attorney, exasperated by the dauntless +spirit of this village Hampden.</p> + +<p>Here they parted. The glow of enthusiasm, the pride of +virtue, which made our hero brave, could not render him +insensible. As he drew nearer home, many melancholy +thoughts pressed upon his heart. He passed the door of his +own cottage with resolute steps, however, and went through +the village in search of the man who had engaged to be his +substitute. He found him, told him how the matter stood; and +luckily the man, who had not yet spent the money, was willing +to return it; as there were many others drawn for the militia, +who, he observed, would be glad to give him the same price, +or more, for his services.</p> + +<p>The moment Price got the money, he hastened to Mr. +Case's house, walked straight forward into his room, and +laying the money down upon his desk, 'There, Mr. Attorney, +are your nine guineas; count them; now I have done with +you.'</p> + +<p>'Not yet,' said the attorney, jingling the money triumphantly +in his hand. 'We'll give you a taste of the law, my good sir, +or I'm mistaken. You forgot the flaw in your lease, which I +have safe in this desk.'</p> + +<p>'Ah, my lease,' said the farmer, who had almost forgot to<span class="pagenum">[89]</span> +ask for it till he was thus put in mind of it by the attorney's +imprudent threat.</p> + +<p>'Give me my lease, Mr. Case. I've paid my money; you +have no right to keep the lease any longer, whether it is a bad +one or a good one.'</p> + +<p>'Pardon me,' said the attorney, locking his desk and putting +the key into his pocket, 'possession, my honest friend,' cried +he, striking his hand upon the desk, 'is nine points of the +law. Good-night to you. I cannot in conscience return a +lease to a tenant in which I know there is a capital flaw. It +is my duty to show it to my employer; or, in other words, to +your new landlord, whose agent I have good reasons to expect +I shall be. You will live to repent your obstinacy, Mr. Price. +Your servant, sir.'</p> + +<p>Price retired with melancholy feelings, but not intimidated. +Many a man returns home with a gloomy countenance, who +has not quite so much cause for vexation.</p> + +<p>When Susan heard her father's story, she quite forgot her +guinea-hen, and her whole soul was intent upon her poor +mother, who, notwithstanding her utmost exertion, could not +support herself under this sudden stroke of misfortune.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the night Susan was called up; her +mother's fever ran high for some hours; but towards morning +it abated, and she fell into a soft sleep with Susan's hand locked +fast in hers.</p> + +<p>Susan sat motionless, and breathed softly, lest she should +disturb her. The rushlight, which stood beside the bed, was +now burnt low; the long shadow of the tall wicker chair +flitted, faded, appeared, and vanished, as the flame rose and +sank in the socket. Susan was afraid that the disagreeable +smell might waken her mother; and, gently disengaging her +hand, she went on tiptoe to extinguish the candle. All was +silent: the gray light of the morning was now spreading over +every object; the sun rose slowly, and Susan stood at the lattice +window, looking through the small leaded, crossbarred panes +at the splendid spectacle. A few birds began to chirp; but, +as Susan was listening to them, her mother started in her +sleep, and spoke unintelligibly. Susan hung up a white apron +before the window to keep out the light, and just then she heard +the sound of music at a distance in the village. As it +approached nearer, she knew that it was Philip playing upon<span class="pagenum">[90]</span> +his pipe and tabor. She distinguished the merry voices of her +companions 'carolling in honour of the May,' and soon she +saw them coming towards her father's cottage, with branches +and garlands in their hands. She opened quick, but gently, +the latch of the door, and ran out to meet them.</p> + +<p>'Here she is!—here's Susan!' they exclaimed joyfully. +'Here's the Queen of the May.' 'And here's her crown!' +cried Rose, pressing forward; but Susan put her finger upon +her lips, and pointed to her mother's window. Philip's pipe +stopped instantly.</p> + +<p>'Thank you,' said Susan, 'my mother is ill; I can't leave +her, you know.' Then gently putting aside the crown, her +companions bid her say who should wear it for her.</p> + +<p>'Will you, dear Rose?' said she, placing the garland upon +her friend's head. 'It's a charming May morning,' added +she, with a smile; 'good-bye. We shan't hear your voices or +the pipe when you have turned the corner into the village; so +you need only stop till then, Philip.'</p> + +<p>'I shall stop for all day,' said Philip; 'I've no mind to +play any more.'</p> + +<p>'Good-bye, poor Susan. It is a pity you can't come with +us,' said all the children; and little Mary ran after Susan to +the cottage door.</p> + +<p>'I forgot to thank you,' said she, 'for the double cowslips; +look how pretty they are, and smell how sweet the violets are +in my bosom, and kiss me quick, for I shall be left behind.' +Susan kissed the little breathless girl, and returned softly to +the side of her mother's bed.</p> + +<p>'How grateful that child is to me for a cowslip only! How +can I be grateful enough to such a mother as this?' said +Susan to herself, as she bent over her sleeping mother's pale +countenance.</p> + +<p>Her mother's unfinished knitting lay upon a table near +the bed, and Susan sat down in her wicker arm-chair, and +went on with the row, in the middle of which her hand stopped +the preceding evening. 'She taught me to knit, she taught +me everything that I know,' thought Susan, 'and the best of +all, she taught me to love her, to wish to be like her.'</p> + +<p>Her mother, when she awakened, felt much refreshed by +her tranquil sleep, and observing that it was a delightful +morning, said 'that she had been dreaming she heard music;<span class="pagenum">[91]</span> +but that the drum frightened her, because she thought it was +the signal for her husband to be carried away by a whole +regiment of soldiers, who had pointed their bayonets at him. +But that was but a dream, Susan; I awoke, and knew it was +a dream, and I then fell asleep, and have slept soundly ever +since.'</p> + +<p>How painful it is to awake to the remembrance of misfortune. +Gradually as this poor woman collected her scattered +thoughts, she recalled the circumstances of the preceding +evening. She was too certain that she had heard from her +husband's own lips the words, '<i>I must leave you in three +days</i>'; and she wished that she could sleep again, and think +it all a dream.</p> + +<p>'But he'll want, he'll want a hundred things,' said she, +starting up. 'I must get his linen ready for him. I'm afraid +it's very late. Susan, why did you let me lie so long?'</p> + +<p>'Everything shall be ready, dear mother; only don't hurry +yourself,' said Susan. And indeed her mother was ill able to +bear any hurry, or to do any work this day. Susan's affectionate, +dexterous, sensible activity was never more wanted, or +more effectual. She understood so readily, she obeyed so +exactly; and when she was left to her own discretion, judged +so prudently, that her mother had little trouble and no anxiety +in directing her. She said that Susan never did too little, or +too much.</p> + +<p>Susan was mending her father's linen, when Rose tapped +softly at the window, and beckoned to her to come out. She +went out. 'How does your mother do, in the first place?' +said Rose. 'Better, thank you.' 'That's well, and I have a +little bit of good news for you besides—here,' said she, pulling +out a glove, in which there was money, 'we'll get the guinea-hen +back again—we have all agreed about it. This is the +money that has been given to us in the village this May +morning. At every door they gave silver. See how generous +they have been—twelve shillings, I assure you. Now we are +a match for Miss Barbara. You won't like to leave home; +I'll go to Barbara, and you shall see your guinea-hen in ten +minutes.'</p> + +<p>Rose hurried away, pleased with her commission, and eager +to accomplish her business. Miss Barbara's maid, Betty, was +the first person that was visible at the attorney's house. Rose<span class="pagenum">[92]</span> +insisted upon seeing Miss Barbara herself, and she was shown +into a parlour to the young lady, who was reading a dirty +novel, which she put under a heap of law papers as they +entered.</p> + +<p>'Dear, how you <i>startled</i> me! Is it only you?' said she to +her maid; but as soon as she saw Rose behind the maid, she +put on a scornful air. 'Could not ye say I was not at home, +Betty? Well, my good girl, what brings you here? Something +to borrow or beg, I suppose.'</p> + +<p>May every ambassador—every ambassador in as good a +cause—answer with as much dignity and moderation as Rose +replied to Barbara upon the present occasion. She assured +her that the person from whom she came did not send her +either to beg or borrow; that she was able to pay the full +value of that for which she came to ask; and, producing her +well-filled purse, 'I believe that this is a very good shilling,' +said she. 'If you don't like it, I will change it, and now you +will be so good as to give me Susan's guinea-hen. It is in her +name I ask for it.'</p> + +<p>'No matter in whose name you ask for it,' replied Barbara, +'you will not have it. Take up your shilling, if you please. +I would have taken a shilling yesterday, if it had been paid at +the time properly; but I told Susan, that if it was not paid +then, I should keep the hen, and so I shall, I promise her. +You may go back, and tell her so.'</p> + +<p>The attorney's daughter had, whilst Rose opened her +negotiation, measured the depth of her purse with a keen eye; +and her penetration discovered that it contained at least ten +shillings. With proper management she had some hopes that +the guinea-hen might be made to bring in at least half the +money.</p> + +<p>Rose, who was of a warm temper, not quite so fit a match +as she had thought herself for the wily Barbara, incautiously +exclaimed, 'Whatever it costs us, we are determined to have +Susan's favourite hen; so, if one shilling won't do, take two; +and if two won't do, why, take three.'</p> + +<p>The shillings sounded provoking upon the table, as she +threw them down one after another, and Barbara coolly replied, +'Three won't do.' 'Have you no conscience, Miss +Barbara? Then take four.' Barbara shook her head. A +fifth shilling was instantly proffered; but Bab, who now saw<span class="pagenum">[93]</span> +plainly that she had the game in her own hands, preserved a +cold, cruel silence. Rose went on rapidly, bidding shilling +after shilling, till she had completely emptied her purse. The +twelve shillings were spread upon the table. Barbara's avarice +was moved; she consented for this ransom to liberate her +prisoner.</p> + +<p>Rose pushed the money towards her; but just then, recollecting +that she was acting for others more than for herself, +and doubting whether she had full powers to conclude such an +extravagant bargain, she gathered up the public treasure, and +with newly-recovered prudence observed that she must go +back to consult her friends. Her generous little friends were +amazed at Barbara's meanness, but with one accord declared +that they were most willing, for their parts, to give up every +farthing of the money. They all went to Susan in a body, and +told her so. 'There's our purse,' said they; 'do what you +please with it.' They would not wait for one word of thanks, +but ran away, leaving only Rose with her to settle the treaty +for the guinea-hen.</p> + +<p>There is a certain manner of accepting a favour, which +shows true generosity of mind. Many know how to give, but +few know how to accept a gift properly. Susan was touched, +but not astonished, by the kindness of her young friends, and +she received the purse with as much simplicity as she would +have given it.</p> + +<p>'Well,' said Rose, 'shall I go back for the guinea-hen?' +'The guinea-hen!' said Susan, starting from a reverie into +which she had fallen, as she contemplated the purse. 'Certainly +I <i>do</i> long to see my pretty guinea-hen once more; but +I was not thinking of her just then—I was thinking of my +father.'</p> + +<p>Now Susan had heard her mother often, in the course of +this day, wish that she had but money enough in the world to +pay John Simpson for going to serve in the militia instead of +her husband. 'This, to be sure, will go but a little way,' +thought Susan; 'but still it may be of some use to my father.' +She told her mind to Rose, and concluded by saying, decidedly, +that 'if the money was given to her to dispose of as she +pleased, she would give it to her father.'</p> + +<p>'It is all yours, my dear good Susan,' cried Rose, with a +look of warm approbation. 'This is so like you!—but I'm<span class="pagenum">[94]</span> +sorry that Miss Bab must keep your guinea-hen. I would +not be her for all the guinea-hens, or guineas either, in the +whole world. Why, I'll answer for it, the guinea-hen won't +make her happy, and you'll be happy <i>even</i> without; because +you are good. Let me come and help you to-morrow,' continued +she, looking at Susan's work, 'if you have any more +mending work to do—I never liked work till I worked with +you. I won't forget my thimble or my scissors,' added she, +laughing—'though I used to forget them when I was a giddy +girl. I assure you I am a great hand at my needle, now—try +me.'</p> + +<p>Susan assured her friend that she did not doubt the powers +of her needle, and that she would most willingly accept of her +services, but that <i>unluckily</i> she had finished all her needlework +that was immediately wanted.</p> + +<p>'But do you know,' said she, 'I shall have a great deal of +business to-morrow; but I won't tell you what it is that I +have to do, for I am afraid I shall not succeed; but if I do +succeed, I'll come and tell you directly, because you will be so +glad of it.'</p> + +<p>Susan, who had always been attentive to what her mother +taught her, and who had often assisted her when she was baking +bread and cakes for the family at the Abbey, had now formed +the courageous, but not presumptuous, idea that she could herself +undertake to bake a batch of bread. One of the servants +from the Abbey had been sent all round the village in the +morning in search of bread, and had not been able to procure +any that was tolerable. Mrs. Price's last baking failed for +want of good barm. She was not now strong enough to +attempt another herself; and when the brewer's boy came +with eagerness to tell her that he had some fine fresh yeast, +she thanked him, but sighed, and said it would be of no use +to her. Accordingly she went to work with much prudent care, +and when her bread the next morning came out of the oven, +it was excellent; at least her mother said so, and she was a +good judge. It was sent to the Abbey; and as the family +there had not tasted any good bread since their arrival in the +country, they also were earnest and warm in its praise. Inquiries +were made from the housekeeper, and they heard, with +some surprise, that this excellent bread was made by a young +girl only twelve years old.<span class="pagenum">[95]</span></p> + +<p>The housekeeper, who had known Susan from a child, was +pleased to have an opportunity in speaking in her favour. +'She is the most industrious little creature, ma'am, in the +world,' said she to her mistress. 'Little I can't so well call +her now, since she's grown tall and slender to look at; and glad +I am she is grown up likely to look at; for handsome is that +handsome does; she thinks no more of her being handsome +than I do myself; yet she has as proper a respect for herself, +ma'am, as you have; and I always see her neat, and with her +mother, ma'am, or fit people, as a girl should be. As for her +mother, she dotes upon her, as well she may; for I should +myself if I had half such a daughter; and then she has two +little brothers; and she's as good to them, and, my boy Philip +says, taught 'em to read more than the schoolmistress, all +with tenderness and good nature; but I beg your pardon, +ma'am, I cannot stop myself when I once begin to talk of +Susan.'</p> + +<p>'You have really said enough to excite my curiosity,' said +her mistress; 'pray send for her immediately; we can see her +before we go out to walk.'</p> + +<p>The benevolent housekeeper despatched her boy Philip for +Susan, who never happened to be in such an <i>untidy</i> state as to +be unable to obey a summons without a long preparation. +She had, it is true, been very busy; but orderly people can be +busy and neat at the same time. She put on her usual straw +hat, and accompanied Rose's mother, who was going with a +basket of cleared muslin to the Abbey.</p> + +<p>The modest simplicity of Susan's appearance, and the artless +good sense and propriety of the answers she gave to all the +questions that were asked her, pleased the ladies at the Abbey, +who were good judges of character and manners.</p> + +<p>Sir Arthur Somers had two sisters, sensible, benevolent +women. They were not of that race of fine ladies who are +miserable the moment they come to <i>the country</i>; nor yet were +they of that bustling sort, who quack and direct all their poor +neighbours, for the mere love of managing, or the want of +something to do. They were judiciously generous; and +whilst they wished to diffuse happiness, they were not peremptory +in requiring that people should be happy precisely +their own way. With these dispositions, and with a well-informed +brother, who, though he never wished to direct,<span class="pagenum">[96]</span> +was always willing to assist in their efforts to do good, there +were reasonable hopes that these ladies would be a blessing +to the poor villagers amongst whom they were now settled.</p> + +<p>As soon as Miss Somers had spoken to Susan, she inquired +for her brother; but Sir Arthur was in his study, and a gentleman +was with him on business.</p> + +<p>Susan was desirous of returning to her mother, and the +ladies therefore would not detain her. Miss Somers told her, +with a smile, when she took leave, that she would call upon +her in the evening at six o'clock.</p> + +<p>It was impossible that such a grand event as Susan's visit +to the Abbey could long remain unknown to Barbara Case +and her gossiping maid. They watched eagerly for the +moment of her return, that they might satisfy their curiosity. +'There she is, I declare, just come into her garden,' cried +Bab; 'I'll run in and get it all out of her in a minute.'</p> + +<p>Bab could descend, without shame, whenever it suited her +purposes, from the height of insolent pride to the lowest meanness +of fawning familiarity.</p> + +<p>Susan was gathering some marigolds and some parsley for +her mother's broth.</p> + +<p>'So, Susan,' said Bab, who came close up to her before she +perceived it, 'how goes the world with you to-day?' 'My +mother is rather better to-day, she says, ma'am—thank you,' +replies Susan, coldly but civilly. '<i>Ma'am!</i> dear, how polite +we are grown of a sudden!' cried Bab, winking at her maid. +'One may see you've been in good company this morning—hey, +Susan? Come, let's hear about it.' 'Did you see the +ladies themselves, or was it only the housekeeper sent for +you?' said the maid. 'What room did you go into?' continued +Bab. 'Did you see Miss Somers, or Sir Arthur?' +'Miss Somers.' 'La! she saw Miss Somers! Betty, I must +hear about it. Can't you stop gathering those things for a +minute and chat a bit with us, Susan?' 'I can't stay, +indeed, Miss Barbara; for my mother's broth is just wanted, +and I'm in a hurry.' Susan ran home.</p> + +<p>'Lord, her head is full of broth now,' said Bab to her +maid; 'and she has not a word for herself, though she has +been abroad. My papa may well call her <i>Simple Susan</i>; +for simple she is, and simple she will be, all the world over. +For my part, I think she's little better than a downright<span class="pagenum">[97]</span> +simpleton. But, however, simple or not, I'll get what I want +out of her. She'll be able to speak, maybe, when she has +settled the grand matter of the broth. I'll step in and ask +to see her mother, that will put her in a good humour in a +trice.'</p> + +<p>Barbara followed Susan into the cottage, and found her +occupied with the grand affair of the broth. 'Is it ready?' +said Bab, peeping into the pot that was over the fire. 'Dear, +how savoury it smells! I'll wait till you go in with it to your +mother; for I must ask her how she does myself.' 'Will you +please to sit down then, miss?' said Simple Susan, with a +smile; for at this instant she forgot the guinea-hen; 'I have +but just put the parsley into the broth; but it soon will be +ready.'</p> + +<p>During this interval Bab employed herself, much to her +own satisfaction, in cross-questioning Susan. She was rather +provoked indeed that she could not learn exactly how each of +the ladies was dressed, and what there was to be for dinner at +the Abbey; and she was curious beyond measure to find out +what Miss Somers meant by saying that she would call at Mr. +Price's cottage at six o'clock in the evening. 'What do you +think she could mean?' 'I thought she meant what she +said,' replied Susan, 'that she would come here at six o'clock.' +'Ay, that's as plain as a pike-staff,' said Barbara; 'but what +else did she mean, think you? People, you know, don't +always mean exactly, downright, neither more nor less than +what they say.' 'Not always,' said Susan, with an arch +smile, which convinced Barbara that she was not quite a +simpleton. '<i>Not always</i>,' repeated Barbara colouring,—'oh, +then I suppose you have some guess at what Miss Somers +meant.' 'No,' said Susan, 'I was not thinking about Miss +Somers, when I said not always.' 'How nice that broth does +look,' resumed Barbara, after a pause.</p> + +<p>Susan had now poured the broth into a basin, and as she +strewed over it the bright orange marigolds, it looked very +tempting. She tasted it, and added now a little salt, and now +a little more, till she thought it was just to her mother's taste. +'Oh, <i>I</i> must taste it,' said Bab, taking the basin up greedily. +'Won't you take a spoon?' said Susan, trembling at the large +mouthfuls which Barbara sucked up with a terrible noise. +'Take a spoonful, indeed!' exclaimed Barbara, setting down<span class="pagenum">[98]</span> +the basin in high anger. 'The next time I taste your broth +you shall affront me, if you dare! The next time I set my +foot in this house, you shall be as saucy to me as you please.' +And she flounced out of the house, repeating '<i>Take a spoon, +pig</i>, was what you meant to say.'</p> + +<p>Susan stood in amazement at the beginning of this speech; +but the concluding words explained to her the mystery.</p> + +<p>Some years before this time, when Susan was a very little +girl, and could scarcely speak plain, as she was eating a basin +of bread and milk for her supper at the cottage door, a great +pig came up and put his nose into the basin. Susan was +willing that the pig should have some share of the bread and +milk; but as she ate with a spoon and he with his large +mouth, she presently discovered that he was likely to have +more than his share; and in a simple tone of expostulation she +said to him, 'Take a <i>poon</i>, pig.'<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> The saying became proverbial +in the village. Susan's little companions repeated it, +and applied it upon many occasions, whenever any one claimed +more than his share of anything good. Barbara, who was +then not Miss Barbara, but plain Bab, and who had played +with all the poor children in the neighbourhood, was often +reproved in her unjust methods of division by Susan's proverb. +Susan, as she grew up, forgot the childish saying; but the +remembrance of it rankled in Barbara's mind, and it was to +this that she suspected Susan had alluded, when she recommended +a spoon to her, whilst she was swallowing the basin +of broth.</p> + +<p>'La, miss,' said Barbara's maid, when she found her +mistress in a passion upon her return from Susan's, 'I only +wondered you did her the honour to set your foot within her +doors. What need have you to trouble her for news about +the Abbey folks, when your own papa has been there all +the morning, and is just come in, and can tell you everything?'</p> + +<p>Barbara did not know that her father meant to go to the +Abbey that morning, for Attorney Case was mysterious even +to his own family about his morning rides. He never chose +to be asked where he was going, or where he had been; and +this made his servants more than commonly inquisitive to +trace him.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[99]</span></p> +<p>Barbara, against whose apparent childishness and real +cunning he was not sufficiently on his guard, had often the art +of drawing him into conversation about his visits. She ran +into her father's parlour; but she knew, the moment she saw +his face, that it was no time to ask questions; his pen was +across his mouth, and his brown wig pushed oblique upon +his contracted forehead. The wig was always pushed crooked +whenever he was in a brown, or rather a black, study. Barbara, +who did not, like Susan, bear with her father's testy humour +from affection and gentleness of disposition, but who always +humoured him from artifice, tried all her skill to fathom his +thoughts, and when she found that <i>it</i> would not do, she went +to tell her maid so, and to complain that her father was so +cross there was no bearing him.</p> + +<p>It is true that Attorney Case was not in the happiest mood +possible; for he was by no means satisfied with his morning's +work at the Abbey. Sir Arthur Somers, the <i>new man</i>, did +not suit him, and he began to be rather apprehensive that he +should not suit Sir Arthur. He had sound reasons for his doubts.</p> + +<p>Sir Arthur Somers was an excellent lawyer, and a perfectly +honest man. This seemed to our attorney a contradiction in +terms; in the course of his practice the case had not occurred; +and he had no precedents ready to direct his proceedings. +Sir Arthur was also a man of wit and eloquence, yet of plain +dealing and humanity. The attorney could not persuade +himself to believe that his benevolence was anything but +enlightened cunning, and his plain dealing he one minute +dreaded as the masterpiece of art, and the next despised as +the characteristic of folly. In short, he had not yet decided +whether he was an honest man or a knave. He had settled +accounts with him for his late agency, and had talked about +sundry matters of business. He constantly perceived, however, +that he could not impose upon Sir Arthur; but the idea +that he could know all the mazes of the law, and yet prefer +the straight road, was incomprehensible.</p> + +<p>Mr. Case having paid Sir Arthur some compliments on his +great legal abilities, and his high reputation at the bar, he +coolly replied, 'I have left the bar.' The attorney looked in +unfeigned astonishment that a man who was actually making +£3000 per annum at the bar should leave it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i010f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i010t.jpg" alt="i010t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>Tried all her skill to fathom his thoughts.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>'I am come,' said Sir Arthur, 'to enjoy that kind of +<span class="pagenum">[101]</span>domestic life in the country which I prefer to all others, and +amongst people whose happiness I hope to increase.' At this +speech the attorney changed his ground, flattering himself that +he should find his man averse to business, and ignorant of +country affairs. He talked of the value of land, and of new +leases.</p> + +<p>Sir Arthur wished to enlarge his domain, and to make a +ride round it. A map of it was lying upon the table, and +Farmer Price's garden came exactly across the new road for +the ride. Sir Arthur looked disappointed; and the keen +attorney seized the moment to inform him that 'Price's whole +land was at his disposal.'</p> + +<p>'At my disposal! how so?' cried Sir Arthur, eagerly; 'it +will not be out of lease, I believe, these ten years. I'll look +into the rent-roll again; perhaps I am mistaken.'</p> + +<p>'You are mistaken, my good sir, and you are not mistaken,' +said Mr. Case, with a shrewd smile. 'In one sense, the land +will not be out of lease these ten years, and in another it is out +of lease at this present time. To come to the point at once, +the lease is, <i>ab origine</i>, null and void. I have detected a +capital flaw in the body of it. I pledge my credit upon it, +sir, it can't stand a single term in law or equity.'</p> + +<p>The attorney observed that at these words Sir Arthur's eye +was fixed with a look of earnest attention. 'Now I have him,' +said the cunning tempter to himself.</p> + +<p>'Neither in law nor equity,' repeated Sir Arthur, with +apparent incredulity. 'Are you sure of that, Mr. Case?' +'Sure! As I told you before, sir, I'd pledge my whole credit +upon the thing—I'd stake my existence.' '<i>That's something</i>,' +said Sir Arthur, as if he was pondering upon the matter.</p> + +<p>The attorney went on with all the eagerness of a keen man, +who sees a chance at one stroke of winning a rich friend and +of ruining a poor enemy. He explained, with legal volubility +and technical amplification, the nature of the mistake in Mr. +Price's lease. 'It was, sir,' said he, 'a lease for the life of +Peter Price, Susanna his wife, and to the survivor or survivors +of them, or for the full time and term of twenty years, to be +computed from the first day of May then next ensuing. Now, +sir, this, you see, is a lease in reversion, which the late Sir +Benjamin Somers had not, by his settlement, a right to make. +This is a curious mistake, you see, Sir Arthur; and in filling<span class="pagenum">[102]</span> +up those printed leases there's always a good chance of some +flaw. I find it perpetually; but I never found a better than +this in the whole course of my practice.'</p> + +<p>Sir Arthur stood in silence.</p> + +<p>'My dear sir,' said the attorney, taking him by the button, +'you have no scruple of stirring in this business?'</p> + +<p>'A little,' said Sir Arthur.</p> + +<p>'Why, then, that can be done away in a moment. Your +name shall not appear in it at all. You have nothing to do +but to make over the lease to me. I make all safe to you +with my bond. Now, being in possession, I come forward in +my own proper person. <i>Shall I proceed?</i>'</p> + +<p>'No—you have said enough,' replied Sir Arthur.</p> + +<p>'The case, indeed, lies in a nutshell,' said the attorney, who +had by this time worked himself up to such a pitch of professional +enthusiasm that, intent upon his vision of a lawsuit, +he totally forgot to observe the impression his words made +upon Sir Arthur.</p> + +<p>'There's only one thing we have forgotten all this time,' +said Sir Arthur. 'What can that be, sir?' 'That we shall +ruin this poor man.'</p> + +<p>Case was thunderstruck at these words, or rather, by the +look which accompanied them. He recollected that he had +laid himself open before he was sure of Sir Arthur's <i>real</i> +character. He softened, and said he should have had certainly +more <i>consideration</i> in the case of any but a litigious, +pig-headed fellow, as he knew Price to be.</p> + +<p>'If he be litigious,' said Sir Arthur, 'I shall certainly be +glad to get him fairly out of the parish as soon as possible. +When you go home, you will be so good, sir, as to send me +his lease, that I may satisfy myself before we stir in this +business.'</p> + +<p>The attorney, brightening up, prepared to take leave; but +he could not persuade himself to take his departure without +making one push at Sir Arthur about the agency.</p> + +<p>'I will not trouble <i>you</i>, Sir Arthur, with this lease of +Price's,' said Case; 'I'll leave it with your agent. Whom +shall I apply to?' '<i>To myself</i>, sir, if you please,' replied Sir +Arthur.</p> + +<p>The courtiers of Louis the Fourteenth could not have +looked more astounded than our attorney, when they received<span class="pagenum">[103]</span> +from their monarch a similar answer. It was this unexpected +reply of Sir Arthur's which had deranged the temper of Mr. +Case, and caused his wig to stand so crooked upon his forehead, +and which had rendered him impenetrably silent to his +inquisitive daughter Barbara.</p> + +<p>After having walked up and down his room, conversing +with himself, for some time, the attorney concluded that the +agency must be given to somebody when Sir Arthur should +have to attend his duty in Parliament; that the agency, even +for the winter season, was not a thing to be neglected; and +that, if he managed well, he might yet secure it for himself. +He had often found that small timely presents worked wonderfully +upon his own mind, and he judged of others by himself. +The tenants had been in the reluctant but constant practice of +making him continual petty offerings; and he resolved to try +the same course with Sir Arthur, whose resolution to be his +own agent, he thought, argued a close, saving, avaricious +disposition. He had heard the housekeeper at the Abbey +inquiring, as he passed through the servants, whether there +was any lamb to be gotten. She said that Sir Arthur was +remarkably fond of lamb, and that she wished she could get a +quarter for him. Immediately he sallied into his kitchen, as +soon as the idea struck him, and asked a shepherd, who was +waiting there, whether he knew of a nice fat lamb to be had +anywhere in the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>'I know of one,' cried Barbara. 'Susan Price has a pet +lamb that's as fat as fat could be.' The attorney easily caught +at these words, and speedily devised a scheme for obtaining +Susan's lamb for nothing.</p> + +<p>It would be something strange if an attorney of his talents +and standing was not an over-match for Simple Susan. He +prowled forth in search of his prey. He found Susan packing +up her father's little wardrobe; and when she looked up as +she knelt, he saw that she had been in tears.</p> + +<p>'How is your mother to-day, Susan?' inquired the attorney. +'Worse, sir. My father goes to-morrow.' 'That's a pity.' +'It can't be helped,' said Susan, with a sigh. 'It can't be +helped—how do you know that?' said Case. 'Sir, <i>dear</i> sir!' +cried she, looking up at him, and a sudden ray of hope beamed +in her ingenuous countenance. 'And if <i>you</i> could help it, +Susan?' said he. Susan clasped her hands in silence, more<span class="pagenum">[104]</span> +expressive than words. 'You <i>can</i> help it, Susan.' She started +up in an ecstasy. 'What would you give now to have your +father at home for a whole week longer?' 'Anything!—but I +have nothing.' 'Yes, but you have, a lamb,' said the hard-hearted +attorney. 'My poor little lamb!' said Susan; 'but +what can that do?' 'What good can any lamb do? Is not +lamb good to eat? Why do you look so pale, girl? Are not +sheep killed every day, and don't you eat mutton? Is your +lamb better than anybody else's, think you?' 'I don't know,' +said Susan, 'but I love it better.' 'More fool you,' said he. +'It feeds out of hand, it follows me about; I have always taken +care of it; my mother gave it to me.' 'Well, say no more +about it, then,' he cynically observed; 'if you love your lamb +better than both your father and your mother, keep it, and good +morning to you.'</p> + +<p>'Stay, oh stay!' cried Susan, catching the skirt of his coat +with an eager, trembling hand;—'a whole week, did you say? +My mother may get better in that time. No, I do not love +my lamb half so well.' The struggle of her mind ceased, and +with a placid countenance and calm voice, 'Take the lamb,' +said she. 'Where is it?' said the attorney. 'Grazing in the +meadow, by the river-side.' 'It must be brought up before +nightfall for the butcher, remember.' 'I shall not forget it,' +said Susan, steadily.</p> + +<p>As soon, however, as her persecutor turned his back and +quitted the house, Susan sat down and hid her face in her +hands. She was soon aroused by the sound of her mother's +feeble voice, who was calling <i>Susan</i> from the inner room where +she lay. Susan went in, but did not undraw the curtain as she +stood beside the bed.</p> + +<p>'Are you there, love? Undraw the curtain, that I may see +you, and tell me;—I thought I heard some strange voice just +now talking to my child. Something's amiss, Susan,' said her +mother, raising herself as well as she was able in the bed, to +examine her daughter's countenance.</p> + +<p>'Would you think it amiss, then, my dear mother,' said +Susan, stooping to kiss her—'would you think it amiss, if my +father was to stay with us a week longer?' 'Susan! you +don't say so?' 'He is, indeed, a whole week;—but how +burning hot your hand is still.' 'Are you sure he will stay?' +inquired her mother. 'How do you know? Who told you<span class="pagenum">[105]</span> +so? Tell me all quick.' 'Attorney Case told me so; he can +get him a week's longer leave of absence, and he has promised +he will.' 'God bless him for it, for ever and ever!' said the +poor woman, joining her hands. 'May the blessing of heaven +be with him!'</p> + +<p>Susan closed the curtains, and was silent. She <i>could not +say Amen</i>. She was called out of the room at this moment, +for a messenger was come from the Abbey for the bread-bills. +It was she who always made out the bills, for though she had +not a great number of lessons from the writing-master, she had +taken so much pains to learn that she could write a very neat, +legible hand, and she found this very useful. She was not, to +be sure, particularly inclined to draw out a long bill at this +instant, but business must be done. She set to work, ruled +her lines for the pounds, shillings, and pence, made out the +bill for the Abbey, and despatched the impatient messenger. +She then resolved to make out all the bills for the neighbours, +who had many of them taken a few loaves and rolls of her +baking. 'I had better get all my business finished,' said she +to herself, 'before I go down to the meadow to take leave of +my poor lamb.'</p> + +<p>This was sooner said than done, for she found that she had +a great number of bills to write, and the slate on which she +had entered the account was not immediately to be found, +and when it was found the figures were almost rubbed out. +Barbara had sat down upon it. Susan pored over the number +of loaves, and the names of the persons who took them; and +she wrote and cast up sums, and corrected and re-corrected +them, till her head grew quite puzzled.</p> + +<p>The table was covered with little square bits of paper, on +which she had been writing bills over and over again, when +her father came in with a bill in his hand. 'How's this, +Susan?' said he. 'How can ye be so careless, child? What +is your head running upon? Here, look at the bill you were +sending up to the Abbey? I met the messenger, and luckily +asked to see how much it was. Look at it.'</p> + +<p>Susan looked and blushed; it was written, 'Sir Arthur +Somers, to John Price, debtor, six dozen <i>lambs</i>, so much.' She +altered it, and returned it to her father; but he had taken up +some of the papers which lay upon the table. 'What are all +these, child?' 'Some of them are wrong, and I've written<span class="pagenum">[106]</span> +them out again,' said Susan. 'Some of them! All of them, I +think, seem to be wrong, if I can read,' said her father, rather +angrily, and he pointed out to her sundry strange mistakes. +Her head, indeed, had been running upon her poor lamb. She +corrected all the mistakes with so much patience, and bore to +be blamed with so much good humour, that her father at last +said that it was impossible ever to scold Susan, without being +in the wrong at the last.</p> + +<p>As soon as all was set right, Price took the bills, and said +he would go round to the neighbours and collect the money +himself; for that he should be very proud to have it to say to +them that it was all earned by his own little daughter.</p> + +<p>Susan resolved to keep the pleasure of telling him of his +week's reprieve till he should come home to sup, as he had +promised to do, in her mother's room. She was not sorry to +hear him sigh as he passed the knapsack, which she had been +packing up for his journey. 'How delighted he will be when +he hears the good news!' said she to herself; 'but I know +he will be a little sorry too for my poor lamb.'</p> + +<p>As Susan had now settled all her business, she thought she +could have time to go down to the meadow by the river-side +to see her favourite; but just as she had tied on her straw hat +the village clock struck four, and this was the hour at which +she always went to fetch her little brothers home from a dame-school +near the village. She knew that they would be disappointed +if she was later than usual, and she did not like to +keep them waiting, because they were very patient, good boys; +so she put off the visit to her lamb, and went immediately for +her brothers.</p> + +<span class="pagenum">[107]</span> +<h3>CHAPTER II</h3> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"> +<p class="noin"> +Evn in the spring and playtime of the year,<br /> +That calls th' unwonted villager abroad,<br /> +With all her little ones, a sportive train,<br /> +To gather kingcups in the yellow mead,<br /> +And prink their heads with daisies. +</p> +<p class="right smcap">Cowper.</p> +</div> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">The</span> dame-school, which was about a mile from the hamlet, +was not a showy edifice: but it was reverenced as much by +the young race of village scholars as if it had been the most +stately mansion in the land; it was a low-roofed, long, thatched +tenement, sheltered by a few reverend oaks, under which many +generations of hopeful children had gambolled in their turn.</p> + +<p>The close-shaven green, which sloped down from the hatch-door +of the schoolroom, was paled round with a rude paling, +which, though decayed in some parts by time, was not in any +place broken by violence.</p> + +<p>The place bespoke order and peace. The dame who +governed was well obeyed, because she was just and well +beloved, and because she was ever glad to give well-earned +praise and pleasure to her little subjects.</p> + +<p>Susan had once been under her gentle dominion, and had +been deservedly her favourite scholar. The dame often cited +her as the best example to the succeeding tribe of emulous +youngsters. She had scarcely opened the wicket which +separated the green before the schoolroom door from the lane, +when she heard the merry voices of the children, and saw the +little troup issuing from the hatchway and spreading over the +green.</p> + +<p>'Oh, there's Susan!' cried her two little brothers, running, +leaping, and bounding up to her; and many of the other rosy +girls and boys crowded round her, to talk of their plays; for +Susan was easily interested in all that made others happy; but +she could not make them comprehend that, if they all spoke +at once, it was not possible that she could hear what was said.</p> + +<p>The voices were still raised one above another, all eager to +establish some important observation about ninepins, or marbles,<span class="pagenum">[108]</span> +or tops, or bows and arrows, when suddenly music was heard +and the crowd was silenced. The music seemed to be near +the spot where the children were standing, and they looked +round to see whence it could come. Susan pointed to the +great oak tree, and they beheld, seated under its shade, an old +man playing upon his harp. The children all approached—at +first timidly, for the sounds were solemn; but as the harper +heard their little footsteps coming towards him, he changed +his hand and played one of his most lively tunes. The circle +closed, and pressed nearer and nearer to him; some who were +in the foremost row whispered to each other, 'He is blind!' +'What a pity!' and 'He looks very poor,—what a ragged +coat he wears!' said others. 'He must be very old, for all +his hair is white: and he must have travelled a great way, for +his shoes are quite worn out,' observed another.</p> + +<p>All these remarks were made whilst he was tuning his harp, +for when he once more began to play, not a word was uttered. +He seemed pleased by their simple exclamations of wonder +and delight, and, eager to amuse his young audience, he played +now a gay and now a pathetic air, to suit their several humours.</p> + +<p>Susan's voice, which was soft and sweet, expressive of +gentleness and good nature, caught his ear the moment she +spoke. He turned his face eagerly to the place where she +stood; and it was observed that, whenever she said that she +liked any tune particularly, he played it over again.</p> + +<p>'I am blind,' said the old man, 'and cannot see your faces; +but I know you all asunder by your voices, and I can guess +pretty well at all your humours and characters by your voices.'</p> + +<p>'Can you so, indeed?' cried Susan's little brother William, +who had stationed himself between the old man's knees. +'Then you heard <i>my</i> sister Susan speak just now. Can you +tell us what sort of person she is?' 'That I can, I think, +without being a conjurer,' said the old man, lifting the boy up +on his knee; '<i>your</i> sister Susan is good-natured.' The boy +clapped his hands. 'And good-tempered.' '<i>Right</i>,' said little +William, with a louder clap of applause. 'And very fond of +the little boy who sits upon my knee.' 'O right! right! quite +right!' exclaimed the child, and 'quite right' echoed on all +sides.</p> + +<p>'But how came you to know so much, when you are blind?' +said William, examining the old man attentively.<span class="pagenum">[109]</span></p> + +<p>'Hush,' said John, who was a year older than his brother, +and very sage, 'you should not put him in mind of his being +blind.'</p> + +<p>'Though I am blind,' said the harper, 'I can hear, you +know, and I heard from your sister herself all that I told you +of her, that she was good-tempered and good-natured and fond +of you.' 'Oh, that's wrong—you did not hear all that from +herself, I'm sure,' said John, 'for nobody ever hears her +praising herself.' 'Did not I hear her tell you,' said the +harper, 'when you first came round me, that she was in a +great hurry to go home, but that she would stay a little while, +since you wished it so much? Was not that good-natured? +And when you said you did not like the tune she liked best, +she was not angry with you, but said, "Then play William's +first, if you please,"—was not that good-tempered?' 'Oh,' +interrupted William, 'it's all true; but how did you find out +that she was fond of me?' 'That is such a difficult question,' +said the harper, 'that I must take time to consider.' The +harper tuned his instrument, as he pondered, or seemed to +ponder; and at this instant two boys who had been searching +for birds' nests in the hedges, and who had heard the sound of +the harp, came blustering up, and pushing their way through +the circle, one of them exclaimed, 'What's going on here? +Who are you, my old fellow? A blind harper! Well, play +us a tune, if you can play ever a good one—play me—let's see, +what shall he play, Bob?' added he, turning to his companion. +'Bumper Squire Jones.'</p> + +<p>The old man, though he did not seem quite pleased with +the peremptory manner of the request, played, as he was +desired, 'Bumper Squire Jones'; and several other tunes were +afterwards bespoke by the same rough and tyrannical voice.</p> + +<p>The little children shrank back in timid silence, and eyed +the brutal boy with dislike. This boy was the son of Attorney +Case; and as his father had neglected to correct his temper +when he was a child, as he grew up it became insufferable. +All who were younger and weaker than himself dreaded his +approach, and detested him as a tyrant.</p> + +<p>When the old harper was so tired that he could play no +more, a lad, who usually carried his harp for him, and who +was within call, came up, and held his master's hat to the +company, saying, 'Will you be pleased to remember us?' The<span class="pagenum">[110]</span> +children readily produced their halfpence, and thought their +wealth well bestowed upon this poor, good-natured man, who +had taken so much pains to entertain them, better even than +upon the gingerbread woman, whose stall they loved to +frequent. The hat was held some time to the attorney's son +before he chose to see it. At last he put his hand surlily into +his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a shilling. There were +sixpennyworth of halfpence in the hat. 'I'll take these halfpence,' +said he, 'and here's a shilling for you.'</p> + +<p>'God bless you, sir,' said the lad; but as he took the +shilling, which the young gentleman had slily put <i>into the blind +man's hand</i>, he saw that it was not worth one farthing. 'I +am afraid it is not good, sir,' said the lad, whose business it +was to examine the money for his master. 'I am afraid, then, +you'll get no other,' said young Case, with an insulting laugh. +'It never will do, sir,' persisted the lad; 'look at it yourself; +the edges are all yellow! you can see the copper through it +quite plain. Sir, nobody will take it from us.' 'That's your +affair,' said the brutal boy, pushing away his hand. 'You may +pass it, you know, as well as I do, if you look sharp. You +have taken it from me, and I shan't take it back again, I +promise you.'</p> + +<p>A whisper of 'that's very unjust,' was heard. The little +assembly, though under evident constraint, could no longer +suppress their indignation.</p> + +<p>'Who says it's unjust?' cried the tyrant sternly, looking +down upon his judges.</p> + +<p>Susan's little brothers had held her gown fast, to prevent +her from moving at the beginning of this contest, and she was +now so much interested to see the end of it, that she stood +still, without making any resistance.</p> + +<p>'Is any one here amongst yourselves a judge of silver?' +said the old man. 'Yes, here's the butcher's boy,' said the +attorney's son; 'show it to him.' He was a sickly-looking +boy, and of a remarkably peaceful disposition. Young Case +fancied that he would be afraid to give judgment against him. +However, after some moments' hesitation, and after turning +the shilling round several times, he pronounced, 'that, as far +as his judgment went, but he did not pretend to be a downright +<i>certain sure</i> of it, the shilling was not over and above +good.' Then turning to Susan, to screen himself from manifest<span class="pagenum">[111]</span> +danger, for the attorney's son looked upon him with a vengeful +mien, 'But here's Susan here, who understands silver a great +deal better than I do; she takes a power of it for bread, +you know.'</p> + +<p>'I'll leave it to her,' said the old harper; 'if she says the +shilling is good, keep it, Jack.' The shilling was handed to +Susan, who, though she had with becoming modesty forborne +all interference, did not hesitate, when she was called upon, to +speak the truth: 'I think that this shilling is a bad one,' said +she; and the gentle but firm tone in which she pronounced +the words for a moment awed and silenced the angry and +brutal boy. 'There's another, then,' cried he; 'I have sixpences +and shillings too in plenty, thank my stars.'</p> + +<p>Susan now walked away with her two little brothers, and all +the other children separated to go to their several homes. +The old harper called to Susan, and begged that, if she was +going towards the village, she would be so kind as to show +him the way. His lad took up his harp, and little William +took the old man by the hand. 'I'll lead him, I can lead him,' +said he; and John ran on before them, to gather kingcups in +the meadow.</p> + +<p>There was a small rivulet which they had to cross, and as +a plank which served for a bridge over it was rather narrow, +Susan was afraid to trust the old blind man to his little +conductor; she therefore went on the tottering plank first herself, +and then led the old harper carefully over. They were +now come to a gate, which opened upon the highroad to the +village. 'There is the highroad straight before you,' said +Susan to the lad, who was carrying his master's harp; 'you can't +miss it. Now I must bid you a good evening; for I'm in a +great hurry to get home, and must go the short way across the +fields here, which would not be so pleasant for you, because of +the stiles. Good-bye.' The old harper thanked her, and went +along the highroad, whilst she and her brothers tripped on as +fast as they could by the short way across the fields.</p> + +<p>'Miss Somers, I am afraid, will be waiting for us,' said +Susan. 'You know she said she would call at six; and by +the length of our shadows I'm sure it is late.'</p> + +<p>When they came to their own cottage door, they heard +many voices, and they saw, when they entered, several ladies +standing in the kitchen. 'Come in, Susan; we thought you<span class="pagenum">[112]</span> +had quite forsaken us,' said Miss Somers to Susan, who +advanced timidly. 'I fancy you forgot that we promised to +pay you a visit this evening; but you need not blush so much +about the matter; there is no great harm done; we have only +been here about five minutes; and we have been well employed +in admiring your neat garden and your orderly shelves. Is it +you, Susan, who keep these things in such nice order?' +continued Miss Somers, looking round the kitchen.</p> + +<p>Before Susan could reply, little William pushed forward +and answered, 'Yes, ma'am, it is <i>my</i> sister Susan that keeps +everything neat; and she always comes to school for us, too, +which was what caused her to be so late.' 'Because as how,' +continued John, 'she was loth to refuse us the hearing a blind +man play on the harp. It was we kept her, and we hopes, +ma'am, as you <i>are</i>—as you <i>seem</i> so good, you won't take it amiss.'</p> + +<p>Miss Somers and her sister smiled at the affectionate simplicity +with which Susan's little brothers undertook her defence, +and they were, from this slight circumstance, disposed to think +yet more favourably of a family which seemed so well united. +They took Susan along with them through the village. Many +neighbours came to their doors, and far from envying, they all +secretly wished Susan well as she passed.</p> + +<p>'I fancy we shall find what we want here,' said Miss Somers, +stopping before a shop, where unfolded sheets of pins and glass +buttons glistened in the window, and where rolls of many +coloured ribbons appeared ranged in tempting order. She +went in, and was rejoiced to see the shelves at the back of the +counter well furnished with glossy tiers of stuffs, and gay, neat +printed linens and calicoes.</p> + +<p>'Now, Susan, choose yourself a gown,' said Miss Somers; +'you set an example of industry and good conduct, of which +we wish to take public notice, for the benefit of others.'</p> + +<p>The shopkeeper, who was father to Susan's friend Rose, +looked much satisfied by this speech, and as if a compliment +had been paid to himself, bowed low to Miss Somers, and then +with alertness, which a London linendraper might have admired, +produced piece after piece of his best goods to his young +customer—unrolled, unfolded, held the bright stuffs and +calendered calicoes in various lights. Now stretched his arm +to the highest shelves, and brought down in a trice what +seemed to be beyond the reach of any but a giant's arm; now<span class="pagenum">[113]</span> +dived into some hidden recess beneath the counter, and +brought to light fresh beauties and fresh temptations.</p> + +<p>Susan looked on with more indifference than most of the +spectators. She was thinking much of her lamb, and more of +her father.</p> + +<p>Miss Somers had put a bright guinea into her hand, and +had bid her pay for her own gown; but Susan, as she looked +at the guinea, thought it was a great deal of money to lay out +upon herself, and she wished, but did not know how to ask, +that she might keep it for a better purpose.</p> + +<p>Some people are wholly inattentive to the lesser feelings, +and incapable of reading the countenances of those on whom +they bestow their bounty. Miss Somers and her sister were +not of this roughly charitable class.</p> + +<p>'She does not like any of these things,' whispered Miss +Somers to her sister. Her sister observed that Susan looked +as if her thoughts were far distant from gowns.</p> + +<p>'If you don't fancy any of these things,' said the civil shopkeeper +to Susan, 'we shall have a new assortment of calicoes +for the spring season soon from town.' 'Oh,' interrupted +Susan, with a smile and a blush, 'these are all pretty, and +too good for me, but——' '<i>But</i> what, Susan?' said Miss +Somers. 'Tell us what is passing in your little mind.' Susan +hesitated. 'Well then, we will not press you, you are scarcely +acquainted with us yet; when you are, you will not be afraid, +I hope, to speak your mind. Put this shining yellow counter,' +continued she, pointing to the guinea, 'in your pocket, and +make what use of it you please. From what we know, and +from what we have heard of you, we are persuaded that you +will make a good use of it.'</p> + +<p>'I think, madam,' said the master of the shop, with a +shrewd, good-natured look, 'I could give a pretty good guess +myself what will become of that guinea; but I say nothing.'</p> + +<p>'No, that is right,' said Miss Somers; 'we leave Susan +entirely at liberty; and now we will not detain her any longer. +Good night, Susan, we shall soon come again to your neat +cottage.' Susan curtsied, with an expressive look of gratitude, +and with a modest frankness in her countenance which seemed +to say, 'I would tell you, and welcome, what I want to do with +the guinea; but I am not used to speak before so many people. +When you come to our cottage again you shall know all.'<span class="pagenum">[114]</span></p> + +<p>When Susan had departed, Miss Somers turned to the +obliging shopkeeper, who was folding up all the things he had +opened. 'You have had a great deal of trouble with us, sir,' +said she; 'and since Susan will not choose a gown for herself, +I must.' She selected the prettiest; and whilst the man was +rolling it in paper, she asked him several questions about +Susan and her family, which he was delighted to answer, +because he had now an opportunity of saying as much as he +wished in her praise.</p> + +<p>'No later back, ma'am, than last May morning,' said he, +'as my daughter Rose was telling us, Susan did a turn, in her +quiet way, by her mother, that would not displease you if you +were to hear it. She was to have been Queen of the May, +which in our little village, amongst the younger tribe, is a +thing that is thought of a good deal; but Susan's mother was +ill, and Susan, after sitting up with her all night, would not +leave her in the morning, even when they brought the crown +to her. She put the crown upon my daughter Rose's head +with her own hands; and, to be sure, Rose loves her as well +as if she was her own sister. But I don't speak from partiality; +for I am no relation whatever to the Prices—only a well-wisher, +as every one, I believe, who knows them is. I'll send the +parcel up to the Abbey, shall I, ma'am?'</p> + +<p>'If you please,' said Miss Somers, 'and, as soon as you +receive your new things from town, let us know. You will, I +hope, find us good customers and well-wishers,' added she, +with a smile; 'for those who wish well to their neighbours +surely deserve to have well-wishers themselves.'</p> + +<p>A few words may encourage the benevolent passions, and +may dispose people to live in peace and happiness; a few +words may set them at variance, and may lead to misery and +lawsuits. Attorney Case and Miss Somers were both equally +convinced of this, and their practice was uniformly consistent +with their principles.</p> + +<p>But now to return to Susan. She put the bright guinea +carefully into the glove with the twelve shillings which she +had received from her companions on May day. Besides this +treasure, she calculated that the amount of the bills for bread +could not be less than eight or nine and thirty shillings; and +as her father was now sure of a week's reprieve, she had great +hopes that, by some means or other, it would be possible to<span class="pagenum">[115]</span> +make up the whole sum necessary to pay for a substitute. 'If +that could but be done,' said she to herself, 'how happy would +my mother be. She would be quite stout again, for she +certainly is a great deal better since I told her that father +would stay a week longer. Ah! but she would not have +blessed Attorney Case, though, if she had known about my +poor Daisy.'</p> + +<p>Susan took the path that led to the meadow by the water-side, +resolved to go by herself and take leave of her innocent +favourite. But she did not pass by unperceived. Her little +brothers were watching for her return, and as soon as they +saw her they ran after her, and overtook her as she reached +the meadow.</p> + +<p>'What did that good lady want with you?' cried William; +but looking up in his sister's face he saw tears in her eyes, +and he was silent, and walked on quietly. Susan saw her +lamb by the water-side. 'Who are those two men?' said +William. 'What are they going to do with <i>Daisy</i>?' The +two men were Attorney Case and the butcher. The butcher +was feeling whether the lamb was fat.</p> + +<p>Susan sat down upon the bank in silent sorrow; her little +brothers ran up to the butcher, and demanded whether he was +going to <i>do any harm</i> to the lamb. The butcher did not +answer, but the attorney replied, 'It is not your sister's lamb +any longer; it's mine—mine to all intents and purposes.' +'Yours!' cried the children, with terror; 'and will you kill +it?' 'That's the butcher's business.'</p> + +<p>The little boys now burst into piercing lamentations. They +pushed away the butcher's hand; they threw their arms round +the neck of the lamb; they kissed its forehead—it bleated. +'It will not bleat to-morrow!' said William, and he wept +bitterly. The butcher looked aside, and hastily rubbed his +eyes with the corner of his blue apron. The attorney stood +unmoved; he pulled up the head of the lamb, which had just +stooped to crop a mouthful of clover. 'I have no time to +waste,' said he; 'butcher, you'll account with me. If it's fat—the +sooner the better. I've no more to say.' And he +walked off, deaf to the prayers of the poor children.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i011f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i011t.jpg" alt="i011t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>Let it eat out of her hand for the last time.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>As soon as the attorney was out of sight, Susan rose from +the bank where she was seated, came up to her lamb, and +stooped to gather some of the fresh dewy trefoil, to let it eat +<span class="pagenum">[117]</span>out of her hand for the last time. Poor Daisy licked her well-known +hand.</p> + +<p>'Now, let us go,' said Susan. 'I'll wait as long as you +please,' said the butcher. Susan thanked him, but walked +away quickly, without looking again at her lamb. Her little +brothers begged the man to stay a few minutes, for they had +gathered a handful of blue speedwell and yellow crowsfoot, and +they were decking the poor animal. As it followed the boys +through the village, the children collected as they passed, and +the butcher's own son was amongst the number. Susan's +steadiness about the bad shilling was full in this boy's memory; +it had saved him a beating. He went directly to his father to +beg the life of Susan's lamb.</p> + +<p>'I was thinking about it, boy, myself,' said the butcher; +'it's a sin to kill a <i>pet lamb</i>, I'm thinking—any way, it's what +I'm not used to, and don't fancy doing, and I'll go and say as +much to Attorney Case; but he's a hard man; there's but one +way to deal with him, and that's the way I must take, though +so be I shall be the loser thereby; but we'll say nothing to the +boys, for fear it might be the thing would not take; and then +it would be worse again to poor Susan, who is a good girl, and +always was, as well she may, being of a good breed, and +well reared from the first.'</p> + +<p>'Come, lads, don't keep a crowd and a scandal about my +door,' continued he, aloud, to the children; 'turn the lamb in +here, John, in the paddock, for to-night, and go your ways +home.'</p> + +<p>The crowd dispersed, but murmured, and the butcher went +to the attorney. 'Seeing that all you want is a good, fat, +tender lamb, for a present for Sir Arthur, as you told me,' said +the butcher, 'I could let you have what's as good or better for +your purpose.' 'Better—if it's better, I'm ready to hear +reason.' The butcher had choice, tender lamb, he said, fit to +eat the next day; and as Mr. Case was impatient to make his +offering to Sir Arthur, he accepted the butcher's proposal, +though with such seeming reluctance, that he actually squeezed +out of him, before he would complete the bargain, a bribe of a +fine sweetbread.</p> + +<p>In the meantime Susan's brothers ran home to tell her that +her lamb was put into the paddock for the night; this was all +they knew, and even this was some comfort to her. Rose, her<span class="pagenum">[118]</span> +good friend, was with her, and she had before her the pleasure +of telling her father of his week's reprieve. Her mother was +better, and even said she was determined to sit up to supper +in her wicker armchair.</p> + +<p>Susan was getting things ready for supper, when little +William, who was standing at the house door, watching in the +dusk for his father's return, suddenly exclaimed, 'Susan! if +here is not our old man!'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said the old harper, 'I have found my way to you. +The neighbours were kind enough to show me whereabouts +you lived; for, though I didn't know your name, they guessed +who I meant by what I said of you all.' Susan came to the +door, and the old man was delighted to hear her speak again. +'If it would not be too bold,' said he, 'I'm a stranger in this +part of the country, and come from afar off. My boy has got +a bed for himself here in the village, but I have no place. +Could you be so charitable as to give an old blind man a +night's lodging?' Susan said she would step in and ask her +mother; and she soon returned with an answer that he was +heartily welcome, if he could sleep upon the children's bed, +which was but small.</p> + +<p>The old man thankfully entered the hospitable cottage. +He struck his head against the low roof, as he stepped over +the door-sill. 'Many roofs that are twice as high are not half +so good,' said he. Of this he had just had experience at the +house of the Attorney Case, while he had asked, but had been +roughly refused all assistance by Miss Barbara, who was, +according to her usual custom, standing staring at the hall +door.</p> + +<p>The old man's harp was set down in Farmer Price's kitchen, +and he promised to play a tune for the boys before they went +to bed; their mother giving them leave to sit up to supper +with their father. He came home with a sorrowful countenance; +but how soon did it brighten when Susan, with a smile, +said to him, 'Father, we've good news for you! good news for +us all!—You have a whole week longer to stay with us; and +perhaps,' continued she, putting her little purse into his hands, +'perhaps with what's here and the bread bills, and what +may somehow be got together before a week's at an end, we +may make up the nine guineas for the substitute, as they call +him. Who knows, dearest mother, but we may keep him with<span class="pagenum">[119]</span> +us for ever!' As she spoke, she threw her arms round her +father, who pressed her to his bosom without speaking, for his +heart was full. He was some little time before he could perfectly +believe that what he heard was true; but the revived +smiles of his wife, the noisy joy of his little boys, and the +satisfaction that shone in Susan's countenance, convinced him +that he was not in a dream.</p> + +<p>As they sat down to supper, the old harper was made welcome +to his share of the cheerful though frugal meal.</p> + +<p>Susan's father, as soon as supper was finished, even before +he would let the harper play a tune for his boys, opened the +little purse which Susan had given him. He was surprised at +the sight of the twelve shillings, and still more, when he came +to the bottom of the purse, to see the bright golden guinea.</p> + +<p>'How did you come by all this money, Susan?' said he. +'Honestly and handsomely, that I'm sure of beforehand,' said +her proud mother; 'but how I can't make out, except by the +baking. Hey, Susan, is this your first baking?' 'Oh no, +no,' said her father, 'I have her first baking snug here, besides, +in my pocket. I kept it for a surprise, to do your mother's +heart good, Susan. Here's twenty-nine shillings, and the +Abbey bill, which is not paid yet, comes to ten more. What +think you of this, wife? Have we not a right to be proud of +our Susan? Why,' continued he, turning to the harper, 'I +ask your pardon for speaking out so free before strangers in +praise of my own, which I know is not mannerly; but the +truth is the fittest thing to be spoken, as I think, at all times; +therefore, here's your good health, Susan; why, by-and-by +she'll be worth her weight in gold—in silver at least. But tell +us, child, how came you by all this riches? and how comes it +that I don't go to-morrow? All this happy news makes me so +gay in myself, I'm afraid I shall hardly understand it rightly. +But speak on, child—first bringing us a bottle of the good +mead you made last year from your own honey.'</p> + +<p>Susan did not much like to tell the history of her guinea-hen—of +the gown and of her poor lamb. Part of this would seem +as if she was vaunting of her own generosity, and part of it she +did not like to recollect. But her mother pressed to know the +whole, and she related it as simply as she could. When she +came to the story of her lamb, her voice faltered, and everybody +present was touched. The old harper sighed once, and<span class="pagenum">[120]</span> +cleared his throat several times. He then asked for his harp, +and, after tuning it for a considerable time, he recollected—for +he had often fits of absence—that he had sent for it to play +the tune he had promised to the boys.</p> + +<p>This harper came from a great distance, from the mountains +of Wales, to contend with several other competitors for a prize, +which had been advertised by a musical society about a year +before this time. There was to be a splendid ball given upon +the occasion at Shrewsbury, which was about five miles from +our village. The prize was ten guineas for the best performer +on the harp, and the prize was now to be decided in a few +days.</p> + +<p>All this intelligence Barbara had long since gained from her +maid, who often paid visits to the town of Shrewsbury, and +she had long had her imagination inflamed with the idea of +this splendid music-meeting and ball. Often had she sighed +to be there, and often had she revolved in her mind schemes +for introducing herself to some <i>genteel</i> neighbours, who might +take her to the ball <i>in their carriage</i>. How rejoiced, how +triumphant was she when this very evening, just about the time +when the butcher was bargaining with her father about Susan's +lamb, a <i>livery</i> servant from the Abbey rapped at the door, and +left a card for Mr. and Miss Barbara Case.</p> + +<p>'There,' cried Bab, '<i>I</i> and <i>papa</i> are to dine and drink tea +at the Abbey to-morrow. Who knows? I daresay, when they +see that I'm not a vulgar-looking person, and all that, and if +I go cunningly to work with Miss Somers, as I shall, to be +sure—I daresay she'll take me to the ball with her.'</p> + +<p>'To be sure,' said the maid; 'it's the least one may expect +from a lady who <i>demeans</i> herself to visit Susan Price, and goes +about a-shopping for her. The least she can do for you is to +take you in her carriage, <i>which</i> costs nothing, but is just a +common civility, to a ball.'</p> + +<p>'Then pray, Betty,' continued Miss Barbara, 'don't forget +to-morrow, the first thing you do, to send off to Shrewsbury for +my new bonnet. I must have it <i>to dine in</i>, at the Abbey, or +the ladies will think nothing of me; and, Betty, remember the +mantua-maker too. I must see and coax papa to buy me a +new gown against the ball. I can see, you know, something +of the fashions to-morrow at the Abbey. I shall <i>look the ladies +well over</i>, I promise you. And, Betty, I have thought of the<span class="pagenum">[121]</span> +most charming present for Miss Somers, as papa says it's good +never to go empty-handed to a great house, I'll make Miss +Somers, who is fond, as her maid told you, of such things—I'll +make Miss Somers a present of that guinea-hen of Susan's; it's +of no use to me, so do you carry it up early in the morning to +the Abbey, with my compliments. That's the thing.'</p> + +<p>In full confidence that her present and her bonnet would +operate effectually in her favour, Miss Barbara paid her first +visit at the Abbey. She expected to see wonders. She was +dressed in all the finery which she had heard from her maid, +who had heard from the 'prentice of a Shrewsbury milliner, was +<i>the thing</i> in London; and she was much surprised and disappointed, +when she was shown into the room where the Miss +Somerses and the ladies of the Abbey were sitting, to see that +they did not, in any one part of their dress, agree with the +picture her imagination had formed of fashionable ladies. She +was embarrassed when she saw books and work and drawings +upon the table, and she began to think that some affront was +meant to her, because <i>the company</i> did not sit with their hands +before them.</p> + +<p>When Miss Somers endeavoured to find out conversation +that would interest her, and spoke of walks and flowers and +gardening, of which she was herself fond, Miss Barbara still +thought herself undervalued, and soon contrived to expose her +ignorance most completely, by talking of things which she did +not understand.</p> + +<p>Those who never attempt to appear what they are not—those +who do not in their manners pretend to anything unsuited +to their habits and situation in life, never are in danger of +being laughed at by sensible, well-bred people of any rank; +but affectation is the constant and just object of ridicule.</p> + +<p>Miss Barbara Case, with her mistaken airs of gentility, aiming +to be thought a woman and a fine lady, whilst she was, in +reality, a child and a vulgar attorney's daughter, rendered herself +so thoroughly ridiculous, that the good-natured, yet discerning +spectators were painfully divided between their sense of +comic absurdity and a feeling of shame for one who could feel +nothing for herself.</p> + +<p>One by one the ladies dropped off. Miss Somers went out +of the room for a few minutes to alter her dress, as it was the +custom of the family, before dinner. She left a portfolio of<span class="pagenum">[122]</span> +pretty drawings and good prints for Miss Barbara's amusement; +but Miss Barbara's thoughts were so intent upon the +harpers' ball, that she could not be entertained with such <i>trifles</i>. +How unhappy are those who spend their time in expectation! +They can never enjoy the present moment. Whilst Barbara +was contriving means of interesting Miss Somers in her favour, +she recollected, with surprise, that not one word had yet been +said of her present of the guinea-hen. Mrs. Betty, in the +hurry of her dressing her young lady in the morning, had forgotten +it; but it came just whilst Miss Somers was dressing; +and the housekeeper came into her mistress's room to announce +its arrival.</p> + +<p>'Ma'am,' said she, 'here's a beautiful guinea-hen just come, +<i>with</i> Miss Barbara Case's compliments to you.'</p> + +<p>Miss Somers knew, by the tone in which the housekeeper +delivered this message, that there was something in the business +which did not perfectly please her. She made no answer, in +expectation that the housekeeper, who was a woman of a very +open temper, would explain her cause of dissatisfaction. In +this she was not mistaken. The housekeeper came close up to +the dressing-table, and continued, 'I never like to speak till I'm +sure, ma'am, and I'm not quite sure, to say certain, in this case, +ma'am, but still I think it right to tell you, which can't wrong +anybody, what came across my mind about this same guinea-hen, +ma'am; and you can inquire into it, and do as you please +afterwards, ma'am. Some time ago we had fine guinea-fowls +of our own, and I made bold, not thinking, to be sure, that all +our own would die away from us, as they have done, to give a +fine couple last Christmas to Susan Price, and very fond and +pleased she was at the time, and I'm sure would never have +parted with the hen with her good-will; but if my eyes don't +strangely mistake, this hen, that comes from Miss Barbara, is +the self-same identical guinea-hen that I gave to Susan. And +how Miss Bab came by it is the thing that puzzles me. If my +boy Philip was at home, maybe, as he's often at Mrs. Price's +(which I don't disapprove), he might know the history of the +guinea-hen. I expect him home this night, and if you have no +objection, I will sift the affair.'</p> + +<p>'The shortest way, I think,' said Henrietta, 'would be to +ask Miss Case herself about it, which I will do this evening.' +'If you please, ma'am,' said the housekeeper, coldly; for she<span class="pagenum">[123]</span> +knew that Miss Barbara was not famous in the village for +speaking truth.</p> + +<p>Dinner was now served. Attorney Case expected to smell +mint sauce, and, as the covers were taken from off the dishes, +looked around for lamb; but no lamb appeared. He had a +dexterous knack of twisting the conversation to his point. Sir +Arthur was speaking, when they sat down to dinner, of a new +carving knife, which he lately had had made for his sister. +The Attorney immediately went from carving-knives to poultry; +thence to butchers meat. Some joints, he observed, were +much more difficult to carve than others. He never saw a man +carve better than the gentleman opposite him, who was the +curate of the parish. 'But, sir,' said the vulgar attorney, 'I +must make bold to differ with you in one point, and I'll appeal +to Sir Arthur. Sir Arthur, pray may I ask, when you carve a +forequarter of lamb, do you, when you raise the shoulder, +throw in salt, or not?' This well-prepared question was not +lost upon Sir Arthur. The attorney was thanked for his +intended present; but mortified and surprised to hear Sir +Arthur say that it was a constant rule of his never to accept of +any presents from his neighbours. 'If we were to accept a +lamb from a rich neighbour on my estate,' said he, 'I am afraid +we should mortify many of our poor tenants, who can have +little to offer, though, perhaps, they may bear us thorough +good-will notwithstanding.'</p> + +<p>After the ladies left the dining-room, as they were walking +up and down the large hall, Miss Barbara had a fair opportunity +of imitating her keen father's method of conversing. One of +the ladies observed that this hall would be a charming place +for music. Bab brought in harps and harpers, and the harpers' +ball, in a breath. 'I know so much about it,—about the ball +I mean,' said she, 'because a lady in Shrewsbury, a friend of +papa's, offered to take me with her; but papa did not like to +give her the trouble of sending so far for me, though she has a +coach of her own.' Barbara fixed her eyes upon Miss Somers +as she spoke; but she could not read her countenance as +distinctly as she wished, because Miss Somers was at this +moment letting down the veil of her hat.</p> + +<p>'Shall we walk out before tea?' said Miss Somers to her +companions; 'I have a pretty guinea-hen to show you.' +Barbara, secretly drawing propitious omens from the guinea-hen,<span class="pagenum">[124]</span> +followed with a confidential step. The pheasantry was +well filled with pheasants, peacocks, etc.; and Susan's pretty +little guinea-hen appeared well, even in this high company. It +was much admired. Barbara was in glory; but her glory was +of short duration.</p> + +<p>Just as Miss Somers was going to inquire into the guinea-hen's +history, Philip came up, to ask permission to have a bit +of sycamore, to turn a nutmeg box for his mother. He was +an ingenious lad, and a good turner for his age. Sir Arthur +had put by a bit of sycamore on purpose for him; and Miss +Somers told him where it was to be found. He thanked her; +but in the midst of his bow of thanks his eye was struck by +the sight of the guinea-hen, and he involuntarily exclaimed, +'Susan's guinea-hen, I declare!' 'No, it's not Susan's guinea-hen,' +said Miss Barbara, colouring furiously; 'it is mine, and +I have made a present of it to Miss Somers.'</p> + +<p>At the sound of Bab's voice, Philip turned—saw her—and +indignation, unrestrained by the presence of all the amazed +spectators, flashed in his countenance.</p> + +<p>'What is the matter, Philip?' said Miss Somers, in a +pacifying tone; but Philip was not inclined to be pacified. +'Why, ma'am,' said he, 'may I speak out?' and, without +waiting for permission, he spoke out, and gave a full, true, and +warm account of Rose's embassy, and of Miss Barbara's cruel +and avaricious proceedings.</p> + +<p>Barbara denied, prevaricated, stammered, and at last was +overcome with confusion; for which even the most indulgent +spectators could scarcely pity her.</p> + +<p>Miss Somers, however, mindful of what was due to her +guest, was anxious to despatch Philip for his piece of sycamore. +Bab recovered herself as soon as he was out of sight; but she +further exposed herself by exclaiming, 'I'm sure I wish this +pitiful guinea-hen had never come into my possession. I wish +Susan had kept it at home, as she should have done!'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps she will be more careful now that she has +received so strong a lesson,' said Miss Somers. 'Shall we +try her?' continued she. 'Philip will, I daresay, take the +guinea-hen back to Susan, if we desire it.' 'If you please, +ma'am,' said Barbara, sullenly; 'I have nothing more to do +with it.'</p> + +<p>So the guinea-hen was delivered to Philip, who set off<span class="pagenum">[125]</span> +joyfully with his prize, and was soon in sight of Farmer +Price's cottage. He stopped when he came to the door. He +recollected Rose and her generous friendship for Susan. He +was determined that she should have the pleasure of restoring +the guinea-hen. He ran into the village. All the children +who had given up their little purse on May-day were +assembled on the play-green. They were delighted to see +the guinea-hen once more. Philip took his pipe and tabor, +and they marched in innocent triumph towards the white +washed cottage.</p> + +<p>'Let me come with you—let me come with you,' said the +butcher's boy to Philip. 'Stop one minute! my father has +something to say to you.' He darted into his father's house. +The little procession stopped, and in a few minutes the +bleating of a lamb was heard. Through a back passage, +which led into the paddock behind the house, they saw the +butcher leading a lamb.</p> + +<p>'It is Daisy!' exclaimed Rose. 'It's Daisy!' repeated all +her companions. 'Susan's lamb! Susan's lamb!' and there +was a universal shout of joy.</p> + +<p>'Well, for my part,' said the good butcher, as soon as he +could be heard,—'for my part, I would not be so cruel as +Attorney Case for the whole world. These poor brute beasts +don't know aforehand what's going to happen to them; and +as for dying, it's what we must all do some time or another; +but to keep wringing the hearts of the living, that have as +much sense as one's self, is what I call cruel; and is not this +what Attorney Case has been doing by poor Susan and her +whole family, ever since he took a spite against them? But, +at any rate, here's Susan's lamb safe and sound. I'd have +taken it back sooner, but I was off before day to the fair, and +am but just come back. Daisy, however, has been as well off +in my paddock as he would have been in the field by the +water-side.'</p> + +<p>The obliging shopkeeper, who showed the pretty calicoes +to Susan, was now at his door, and when he saw the lamb, +and heard that it was Susan's, and learned its history, he said +that he would add his mite; and he gave the children some +ends of narrow riband, with which Rose decorated her friend's +lamb.</p> + +<p>The pipe and tabor now once more began to play, and the<span class="pagenum">[126]</span> +procession moved on in joyful order, after giving the humane +butcher three cheers; three cheers which were better deserved +than 'loud huzzas' usually are.</p> + +<p>Susan was working in her arbour, with her little deal table +before her. When she heard the sound of the music, she put +down her work and listened. She saw the crowd of children +coming nearer and nearer. They had closed round Daisy, so +that she did not see it; but as they came up to the garden +gate she saw that Rose beckoned to her. Philip played as +loud as he could, that she might not hear, till the proper +moment, the bleating of the lamb. Susan opened the garden-wicket, +and at this signal the crowd divided, and the first +thing that Susan saw, in the midst of her taller friends, was +little smiling Mary, with the guinea-hen in her arms.</p> + +<p>'Come on! Come on!' cried Mary, as Susan started with +joyful surprise; 'you have more to see.'</p> + +<p>At this instant the music paused, Susan heard the bleating +of a lamb, and scarcely daring to believe her senses, she +pressed eagerly forward, and beheld poor Daisy!—she burst +into tears. 'I did not shed one tear when I parted with you, +my dear little Daisy!' said she. 'It was for my father and +mother. I would not have parted with you for anything else +in the whole world. Thank you, thank you all,' added she, to +her companions, who sympathised in her joy, even more than +they had sympathised in her sorrow. 'Now, if my father was +not to go away from us next week, and if my mother was +quite stout, I should be the happiest person in the world!'</p> + +<p>As Susan pronounced these words, a voice behind the little +listening crowd cried, in a brutal tone, 'Let us pass, if you +please; you have no right to stop up the public road!' This +was the voice of Attorney Case, who was returning with his +daughter Barbara from his visit to the Abbey. He saw the +lamb, and tried to whistle as he went on. Barbara also saw +the guinea-hen, and turned her head another way, that she +might avoid the contemptuous, reproachful looks of those whom +she only affected to despise. Even her new bonnet, in which +she had expected to be so much admired, was now only +serviceable to hide her face and conceal her mortification.</p> + +<p>'I am glad she saw the guinea-hen,' cried Rose, who now +held it in her hands. 'Yes,' said Philip, 'she'll not forget +May-day in a hurry.' 'Nor I neither, I hope,' said Susan,<span class="pagenum">[127]</span> +looking round upon her companions with a most affectionate +smile: 'I hope, whilst I live, I shall never forget your goodness +to me last May-day. Now I've my pretty guinea-hen +safe once more, I should think of returning your money.' +'No! no! no!' was the general cry. 'We don't want the +money—keep it, keep it—you want it for your father.' 'Well,' +said Susan, 'I am not too proud to be obliged. I <i>will</i> keep +your money for my father. Perhaps some time or other I +may be able to earn——' 'Oh,' interrupted Philip, 'don't +let us talk of earning; don't let us talk to her of money now; +she has not had time hardly to look at poor Daisy and her +guinea-hen. Come, we had best go about our business, and +let her have them all to herself.'</p> + +<p>The crowd moved away in consequence of Philip's considerate +advice; but it was observed that he was the very last +to stir from the garden-wicket himself. He stayed, first, to +inform Susan that it was Rose who tied the ribands on Daisy's +head. Then he stayed a little longer to let her into the history +of the guinea-hen, and to tell her who it was that brought the +hen home from the Abbey.</p> + +<p>Rose held the sieve, and Susan was feeding her long-lost +favourite, whilst Philip leaned over the wicket, prolonging his +narration. 'Now, my pretty guinea-hen,' said Susan—'my +naughty guinea-hen, that flew away from me, you shall never +serve me so again. I must cut your nice wings; but I won't +hurt you.' 'Take care,' cried Philip; 'you'd better, indeed +you'd better let me hold her whilst you cut her wings.'</p> + +<p>When this operation was successfully performed, which it +certainly could never have been if Philip had not held the hen +for Susan, he recollected that his mother had sent him with a +message to Mrs. Price. This message led to another quarter +of an hour's delay; for he had the whole history of the +guinea-hen to tell over again to Mrs. Price, and the farmer +himself luckily came in whilst it was going on, so it was but +civil to begin it afresh; and then the farmer was so rejoiced +to see his Susan so happy again with her two little favourites, +that he declared he must see Daisy fed himself; and Philip +found that he was wanted to hold the jugful of milk, out of +which Farmer Price filled the pan for Daisy. Happy Daisy! +who lapped at his ease whilst Susan caressed him, and +thanked her fond father and her pleased mother.<span class="pagenum">[128]</span></p> + +<p>'But, Philip,' said Mrs. Price, 'I'll hold the jug—you'll be +late with your message to your mother; we'll not detain you +any longer.'</p> + +<p>Philip departed, and as he went out of the garden-wicket +he looked up, and saw Bab and her maid Betty staring out of +the window, as usual. On this, he immediately turned back +to try whether he had shut the gate fast, lest the guinea-hen +might stray, out and fall again into the hands of the enemy.</p> + +<p>Miss Barbara, in the course of this day, felt considerable +mortification, but no contrition. She was vexed that her +meanness was discovered, but she felt no desire to cure herself +of any of her faults. The ball was still uppermost in her +vain, selfish soul. 'Well,' said she to her <i>confidante</i>, Betty, +'you hear how things have turned out; but if Miss Somers +won't think of asking me to go out with her, I've a notion I +know who will. As papa says, it's a good thing to have two +strings to one's bow.'</p> + +<p>Now some officers, who were quartered at Shrewsbury, +had become acquainted with Mr. Case. They had gotten into +some quarrel with a tradesman of the town, and Attorney Case +had promised to bring them through the affair, as the man +threatened to take the law of them. Upon the faith of this +promise, and with the vain hope that, by civility, they might +dispose him to bring in a <i>reasonable</i> bill of costs, these officers +sometimes invited Mr. Case to the mess; and one of them, +who had lately been married, prevailed upon his bride <i>sometimes</i> +to take a little notice of Miss Barbara. It was with +this lady that Miss Barbara now hoped to go to the harpers' +ball.</p> + +<p>'The officers and Mrs. Strathspey, or, more properly, Mrs. +Strathspey and the officers, are to breakfast here, to-morrow, +do you know?' said Bab to Betty. 'One of them dined at the +Abbey to-day, and told papa they'd all come. They are going +out on a party, somewhere into the country, and breakfast +here on their way. Pray, Betty, don't forget that Mrs. +Strathspey can't breakfast without honey. I heard her say so +myself.' 'Then, indeed,' said Betty, 'I'm afraid Mrs. +Strathspey will be likely to go without her breakfast here; for +not a spoonful of honey have we, let her long for it ever so +much.' 'But, surely,' said Bab, 'we can contrive to get some +honey in the neighbourhood.' 'There's none to be bought, as<span class="pagenum">[129]</span> +I know of,' said Betty. 'But is there none to be begged or +borrowed?' said Bab, laughing. 'Do you forget Susan's beehive? +Step over to her in the morning with <i>my compliments</i>, +and see what you can do. Tell her it's for Mrs. Strathspey.'</p> + +<p>In the morning Betty went with Miss Barbara's compliments +to Susan, to beg some honey for Mrs. Strathspey who could +not breakfast without it. Susan did not like to part with her +honey, because her mother loved it, and she therefore gave +Betty but a small quantity. When Barbara saw how little +Susan sent, she called her a <i>miser</i>, and she said she <i>must</i> have +some more for Mrs. Strathspey. 'I'll go myself and speak to +her. Come with me, Betty,' said the young lady, who found it +at present convenient to forget her having declared, the day +that she sucked up the broth, that she never would honour Susan +with another visit. 'Susan,' said she, accosting the poor +girl, whom she had done everything in her power to injure, 'I +must beg a little more honey from you for Mrs. Strathspey's +breakfast. You know, on a particular occasion such as this, +neighbours must help one another.' 'To be sure they should,' +added Betty.</p> + +<p>Susan, though she was generous, was not weak; she was +willing to give to those she loved, but not disposed to let anything +be taken from her, or coaxed out of her, by those she had +reason to despise. She civilly answered that she was sorry +she had no more honey to spare.</p> + +<p>Barbara grew angry, and lost all command of herself, when +she saw that Susan, without regarding her reproaches, went on +looking through the glass pane in the beehive. 'I'll tell you +what, Susan Price,' said she, in a high tone, 'the honey I <i>will</i> +have, so you may as well give it to me by fair means. Yes or +no? Speak! Will you give it me or not? Will you give me +that piece of the honeycomb that lies there?' 'That bit of +honeycomb is for my mother's breakfast,' said Susan; 'I cannot +give it you.' 'Can't you?' said Bab, 'then see if I don't take +it!' She stretched across Susan for the honeycomb, which was +lying by some rosemary leaves that Susan had freshly gathered +for her mother's tea. Bab grasped, but at her first effort she +only reached the rosemary. She made a second dart at the +honeycomb, and, in her struggle to obtain it, she overset the +beehive. The bees swarmed about her. Her maid Betty +screamed and ran away. Susan, who was sheltered by a<span class="pagenum">[130]</span> +laburnum tree, called to Barbara, upon whom the black clusters +of bees were now settling, and begged her to stand still, and +not to beat them away. 'If you stand quietly you won't be +stung, perhaps.' But instead of standing quietly, Bab buffeted +and stamped and roared, and the bees stung her terribly. Her +arms and her face swelled in a frightful manner. She was +helped home by poor Susan and treacherous Mrs. Betty, who, +now the mischief was done, thought only of exculpating herself +to her master.</p> + +<p>'Indeed, Miss Barbara,' said she, 'this was quite wrong of +you to go and get yourself into such a scrape. I shall be turned +away for it, you'll see.'</p> + +<p>'I don't care whether you are turned away or not,' said +Barbara; 'I never felt such pain in my life. Can't you do +something for me? I don't mind the pain either so much as +being such a fright. Pray, how am I to be fit to be seen at +breakfast by Mrs. Strathspey; and I suppose I can't go to the +ball either to-morrow, after all!'</p> + +<p>'No, that you can't expect to do, indeed,' said Betty, the +comforter. 'You need not think of balls; for those lumps and +swellings won't go off your face this week. That's not what +pains me; but I'm thinking of what your papa will say to me +when he sees you, miss.'</p> + +<p>Whilst this amiable mistress and maid were in their +adversity reviling one another, Susan, when she saw that she +could be of no further use, was preparing to depart, but at the +house-door she was met by Mr. Case. Mr. Case had revolved +things in his mind; for his second visit at the Abbey pleased +him as little as his first, owing to a few words which Sir Arthur +and Miss Somers dropped in speaking of Susan and Farmer +Price. Mr. Case began to fear that he had mistaken his game +in quarrelling with this family. The refusal of his present +dwelt upon the attorney's mind; and he was aware that, if the +history of Susan's lamb ever reached the Abbey, he was undone. +He now thought that the most prudent course he could +possibly follow would be to <i>hush up</i> matters with the <i>Prices</i> +with all convenient speed. Consequently, when he met Susan +at his door, he forced a gracious smile. 'How is your mother, +Susan?' said he. 'Is there anything in our house can be of +service to her?' On hearing his daughter he cried out, +'Barbara, Barbara—Bab! come downstairs, child, and speak to<span class="pagenum">[131]</span> +Susan Price.' But as no Barbara answered, her father stalked +upstairs directly, opened the door, and stood amazed at the +spectacle of her swelled visage.</p> + +<p>Betty instantly began to tell the story of Barbara's mishap +her own way. Bab contradicted her as fast as she spoke. +The attorney turned the maid away on the spot; and partly +with real anger, and partly with feigned affectation of anger, he +demanded from his daughter how she dared to treat Susan +Price so ill, 'when,' as he said, 'she was so neighbourly and +obliging as to give you some of her honey? Couldn't you be +content, without seizing upon the honeycomb by force? This +is scandalous behaviour, and what, I assure you, I can't +countenance.'</p> + +<p>Susan now interceded for Barbara; and the attorney, softening +his voice, said that 'Susan was a great deal too good to +her; as you are, indeed,' added he, 'to everybody. I forgive +her for your sake.' Susan curtsied, in great surprise; but her +lamb could not be forgotten, and she left the attorney's house +as soon as she could, to make her mother's rosemary tea +breakfast.</p> + +<p>Mr. Case saw that Susan was not so simple as to be taken +in by a few fair words. His next attempt was to conciliate +Farmer Price. The farmer was a blunt, honest man, and his +countenance remained inflexibly contemptuous, when the +attorney addressed him in his softest tone.</p> + +<p>So stood matters the day of the long-expected harpers' ball. +Miss Barbara Case, stung by Susan's bees, could not, after all +her manœuvres, go with Mrs. Strathspey to the ball. The ballroom +was filled early in the evening. There was a numerous +assembly. The harpers, who contended for the prize, were +placed under the music-gallery at the lower end of the room. +Amongst them was our old blind friend, who, as he was not so +well clad as his competitors, seemed to be disdained by many of +the spectators. Six ladies and six gentlemen were now appointed +to be judges of the performance. They were seated in a semicircle, +opposite to the harpers. The Miss Somerses, who were +fond of music, were amongst the ladies in the semicircle; and +the prize was lodged in the hands of Sir Arthur. There was +now silence. The first harp sounded, and as each musician +tried his skill, the audience seemed to think that each deserved +the prize. The old blind man was the last. He tuned his<span class="pagenum">[132]</span> +instrument; and such a simple pathetic strain was heard as +touched every heart. All were fixed in delighted attention; +and when the music ceased, the silence for some moments +continued.</p> + +<p>The silence was followed by a universal buzz of applause. +The judges were unanimous in their opinions, and it was declared +that the old blind harper, who played the last, deserved +the prize.</p> + +<p>The simple pathetic air which won the suffrages of the whole +assembly, was his own composition. He was pressed to give +the words belonging to the music; and at last he modestly +offered to repeat them, as he could not see to write. Miss +Somers' ready pencil was instantly produced; and the old harper +dictated the words of his ballad, which he called—<i>Susan's +Lamentation for her Lamb</i>.</p> + +<p>Miss Somers looked at her brother from time to time, as she +wrote; and Sir Arthur, as soon as the old man had finished, +took him aside, and asked him some questions, which brought +the whole history of Susan's lamb and of Attorney Case's cruelty +to light.</p> + +<p>The attorney himself was present when the harper began to +dictate his ballad. His colour, as Sir Arthur steadily looked at +him, varied continually; till at length, when he heard the words +'Susan's Lamentation for her Lamb,' he suddenly shrank back, +skulked through the crowd, and disappeared. We shall not +follow him; we had rather follow our old friend, the victorious +harper.</p> + +<p>No sooner had he received the ten guineas, his well-merited +prize, than he retired to a small room belonging to the people +of the house, asked for pen, ink, and paper, and dictated, in a +low voice, to his boy, who was a tolerably good scribe, a letter, +which he ordered him to put directly into the Shrewsbury post-office. +The boy ran with the letter to the post-office. He was +but just in time, for the postman's horn was sounding.</p> + +<p>The next morning, when Farmer Price, his wife, and Susan, +were sitting together, reflecting that his week's leave of absence +was nearly at an end, and that the money was not yet made up +for John Simpson, the substitute, a knock was heard at the +door, and the person who usually delivered the letters in the +village put a letter into Susan's hand, saying, 'A penny, if you +please—here's a letter for your father.'<span class="pagenum">[133]</span></p> + +<p>'For me!' said Farmer Price; 'here's the penny then; but +who can it be from, I wonder? Who can think of writing to me, +in this world?' He tore open the letter; but the hard name +at the bottom of the page puzzled him—'<i>your obliged friend</i>, +Llewellyn.'</p> + +<p>'And what's this?' said he, opening a paper that was +enclosed in the letter. 'It's a song, seemingly; it must be +somebody that has a mind to make an April fool of me.' 'But +it is not April, it is May, father,' said Susan. 'Well, let us read +the letter, and we shall come to the truth all in good time.'</p> + +<p>Farmer Price sat down in his own chair, for he could not +read entirely to his satisfaction in any other, and read as +follows:—</p> + +<br /> + +<p>'<span class="smcap">My worthy Friend</span>—I am sure you will be glad to +hear that I have had good success this night. I have won the +ten guinea prize, and for that I am in a great measure indebted +to your sweet daughter Susan; as you will see by a little ballad +I enclose for her. Your hospitality to me has afforded to me +an opportunity of learning some of your family history. You +do not, I hope, forget that I was present when you were +counting the treasure in Susan's little purse, and that I heard +for what purpose it was all destined. You have not, I know, +yet made up the full sum for your substitute, John Simpson; +therefore do me the favour to use the five guinea banknote +which you will find within the ballad. You shall not find me +as hard a creditor as Attorney Case. Pay me the money at +your own convenience. If it is never convenient to you to pay +it, I shall never ask it. I shall go my rounds again through +this country, I believe, about this time next year, and will call +to see how you do, and to play the new tune for Susan and +the dear little boys.</p> + +<p>'I should just add, to set you hearts at rest about the money, +that it does not distress me at all to lend it to you. I am not +quite so poor as I appear to be. But it is my humour to go +about as I do. I see more of the world under my tattered +garb than, perhaps, I should ever see in a better dress. There +are many of my profession who are of the same mind as myself +in this respect; and we are glad, when it lies in our way, to +do any kindness to such a worthy family as yours. So, fare +ye well.—Your obliged Friend, <span class="smcap">Llewellyn</span>.'<span class="pagenum">[134]</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p>Susan now, by her father's desire, opened the ballad. He +picked up the five-guinea banknote, whilst she read, with +surprise, 'Susan's Lamentation for her Lamb.' Her mother +leaned over her shoulder to read the words; but they were +interrupted, before they had finished the first stanza, by another +knock at the door. It was not the postman with another +letter. It was Sir Arthur and his sisters.</p> + +<p>They came with an intention, which they were much disappointed +to find that the old harper had rendered vain—they +came to lend the farmer and his good family the money to pay +for his substitute.</p> + +<p>'But, since we are here,' said Sir Arthur, 'let me do my +own business, which I had like to have forgotten. Mr. Price, +will you come out with me, and let me show you a piece of +your land, through which I want to make a road? Look +there,' said Sir Arthur, pointing to the spot; 'I am laying out +a ride round my estate, and that bit of land of yours stops +me.'</p> + +<p>'Why, sir,' said Price, 'the land's mine, to be sure, for that +matter; but I hope you don't look upon me to be that sort of +person that would be stiff about a trifle or so.'</p> + +<p>'The fact is,' said Sir Arthur, 'I had heard you were a +litigious, pig-headed fellow; but you do not seem to deserve +this character.'</p> + +<p>'Hope not, sir,' said the farmer; 'but about the matter of +the land, I don't want to take any advantage of your wishing +for it. You are welcome to it; and I leave it to you to find me +out another bit of land convenient to me that will be worth +neither more nor less; or else to make up the value to me some +way or other. I need say no more about it.'</p> + +<p>'I hear something,' continued Sir Arthur, after a short +silence—'I hear something, Mr. Price, of a <i>flaw</i> in your lease. +I would not speak to you about it whilst we were bargaining +about your land, lest I should overawe you; but, tell me, what +is this <i>flaw</i>?'</p> + +<p>'In truth, and the truth is the fittest thing to be spoken at +all times,' said the farmer, 'I didn't know myself what a <i>flaw</i>, +as they call it, meant, till I heard of the word from Attorney +Case; and, I take it, a <i>flaw</i> is neither more nor less than a +mistake, as one should say. Now, by reason a man does not +make a mistake on purpose, it seems to me to be the fair thing<span class="pagenum">[135]</span> +that if a man finds out his mistake, he might set it right; but +Attorney Case says this is not law; and I've no more to say. +The man who drew up my lease made a mistake; and if I must +suffer for it, I must,' said the farmer. 'However, I can show +you, Sir Arthur, just for my own satisfaction and yours, a few +lines of a memorandum on a slip of paper, which was given me +by your relation, the gentleman who lived here before, and let +me my farm. You'll see, by that bit of paper, what was meant; +but the attorney says the paper's not worth a button in a court +of justice, and I don't understand these things. All I understand +is the common honesty of the matter. I've no more to +say.'</p> + +<p>'This attorney, whom you speak of so often,' said Sir +Arthur, 'you seem to have some quarrel with. Now, would +you tell me frankly what is the matter between——?'</p> + +<p>'The matter between us, then,' said Price, 'is a little bit of +ground, not worth much, that is there open to the lane at the +end of Mr. Case's garden, and he wanted to take it in. Now +I told him my mind, that it belonged to the parish, and that I +never would willingly give my consent to his cribbing it in +that way. Sir, I was the more loth to see it shut into his +garden, which, moreover, is large enough of all conscience +without it, because you must know, Sir Arthur, the children in +our village are fond of making a little play-green of it; and +they have a custom of meeting on May-day at a hawthorn that +stands in the middle of it, and altogether I was very loth to +see 'em turned out of it by those who have no right.'</p> + +<p>'Let us go and see this nook,' said Sir Arthur. 'It is not +far off, is it?'</p> + +<p>'Oh no, sir, just hard by here.'</p> + +<p>When they got to the ground, Mr. Case, who saw them +walking together, was in a hurry to join them, that he might +put a stop to any explanations. Explanations were things of +which he had a great dread; but, fortunately, he was upon this +occasion a little too late.</p> + +<p>'Is this the nook in dispute?' said Sir Arthur. 'Yes; this +is the whole thing,' said Price. 'Why, Sir Arthur,' interposed +the politic attorney, with an assumed air of generosity, 'don't +let us talk any more about it. Let it belong to whom it will, +I give it up to you.'</p> + +<p>'So great a lawyer, Mr. Case, as you are,' replied Sir<span class="pagenum">[136]</span> +Arthur, 'must know that a man cannot give up that to which +he has no legal title; and in this case it is impossible that, +with the best intentions to oblige me in the world, you can +give up this bit of land to me, because it is mine already, as I +can convince you effectually by a map of the adjoining land, +which I have fortunately safe amongst my papers. This piece +of ground belonged to the farm on the opposite side of the +road, and it was cut off when the lane was made.'</p> + +<p>'Very possibly. I daresay you are quite correct; you +must know best,' said the attorney, trembling for the agency.</p> + +<p>'Then,' said Sir Arthur, 'Mr. Price, you will observe that +I now promise this little green to the children for a playground; +and I hope they may gather hawthorn many a May-day +at this their favourite bush.' Mr. Price bowed low, which +he seldom did, even when he received a favour himself. 'And +now, Mr. Case,' said Sir Arthur, turning to the attorney, who +did not know which way to look, 'you sent me a lease to look +over.'</p> + +<p>'Ye—ye—yes,' stammered Mr. Case. 'I thought it my +duty to do so; not out of any malice or ill-will to this good +man.'</p> + +<p>'You have done him no injury,' said Sir Arthur coolly. 'I +am ready to make him a new lease, whenever he pleases, of +his farm, and I shall be guided by a memorandum of the +original bargain, which he has in his possession. I hope I +never shall take an unfair advantage of any one.'</p> + +<p>'Heaven forbid, sir,' said the attorney, sanctifying his face, +'that I should suggest the taking an <i>unfair</i> advantage of any +man, rich or poor; but to break a bad lease is not taking an +unfair advantage.'</p> + +<p>'You really think so?' said Sir Arthur. 'Certainly I do, +and I hope I have not hazarded your good opinion by speaking +my mind concerning the flaw so plainly. I always understood +that there could be nothing ungentlemanlike, in the way of +business, in taking advantage of the flaw in a lease.'</p> + +<p>'Now,' said Sir Arthur, 'you have pronounced judgment +<i>undesignedly</i> in your own case. You intended to send me this +poor man's lease; but your son, by some mistake, brought me +your own, and I have discovered a fatal error in it.' 'A fatal +error!' said the alarmed attorney. 'Yes, sir,' said Sir Arthur, +pulling the lease out of his pocket. 'Here it is. You will<span class="pagenum">[137]</span> +observe that it is neither signed nor sealed by the grantor.' +'But you won't take advantage of me, surely, Sir Arthur?' +said Mr. Case, forgetting his own principles. 'I shall not +take advantage of you, as you would have taken of this honest +man. In both cases I shall be guided by memoranda which I +have in my possession. I shall not, Mr. Case, defraud you of +one shilling of your property. I am ready, at a fair valuation, +to pay the exact value of your house and land; but upon this +condition—that you quit the parish within one month!'</p> + +<p>Attorney Case was thus compelled to submit to the hard +necessity of the case, for he knew that he could not legally resist. +Indeed he was glad to be let off so easily; and he bowed and +sneaked away, secretly comforting himself with the hope that +when they came to the valuation of the house and land he should +be the gainer, perhaps, of a few guineas. His reputation he +justly held very cheap.</p> + +<p>'You are a scholar; you write a good hand; you can keep +accounts, cannot you?' said Sir Arthur to Mr. Price, as they +walked home towards the cottage. 'I think I saw a bill of +your little daughter's drawing out the other day, which was +very neatly written. Did you teach her to write?'</p> + +<p>'No, sir,' said Price, 'I can't say I did <i>that</i>; for she +mostly taught it herself; but I taught her a little arithmetic, +as far as I knew, on our winter nights, when I had nothing +better to do.'</p> + +<p>'Your daughter shows that she has been well taught,' said +Sir Arthur; 'and her good conduct and good character speak +strongly in favour of her parents.'</p> + +<p>'You are very good, very good indeed, sir, to speak in this +sort of way,' said the delighted father.</p> + +<p>'But I mean to do more than <i>pay you with words</i>,' said Sir +Arthur. 'You are attached to your own family, perhaps you +may become attached to me, when you come to know me, and +we shall have frequent opportunities of judging of one another. +I want no agent to squeeze my tenants, or do my dirty work. +I only want a steady, intelligent, honest man, like you, to +collect my rents, and I hope, Mr. Price, you will have no +objection to the employment.' 'I hope, sir,' said Price, with +joy and gratitude glowing in his honest countenance, 'that +you'll never have cause to repent your goodness.'</p> + +<p>'And what are my sisters about here?' said Sir Arthur,<span class="pagenum">[138]</span> +entering the cottage, and going behind his sisters, who were +busily engaged in measuring an extremely pretty coloured +calico.</p> + +<p>'It is for Susan, my dear brother,' said they. 'I knew she +did not keep that guinea for herself,' said Miss Somers. 'I +have just prevailed upon her mother to tell me what became of +it. Susan gave it to her father; but she must not refuse a +gown of our choosing this time; and I am sure she will not, +because her mother, I see, likes it. And, Susan, I hear that +instead of becoming Queen of the May this year, you were +sitting in your sick mother's room. Your mother has a little +colour in her cheeks now.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, ma'am,' interrupted Mrs. Price, 'I'm quite well. Joy, +I think, has made me quite well.'</p> + +<p>'Then,' said Miss Somers, 'I hope you will be able to +come out on your daughter's birthday, which, I hear, is the +25th of this month. Make haste and get quite well before that +day; for my brother intends that all the lads and lassies of the +village shall have a dance on Susan's birthday.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Sir Arthur, 'and I hope on that day, Susan, you +will be very happy with your little friends upon their play-green. +I shall tell them that it is your good conduct which has +obtained it for them; and if you have anything to ask, any +little favour for any of your companions, which we can grant, +now ask, Susan. These ladies look as if they would not +refuse you anything that is reasonable; and, I think, you look +as if you would not ask anything unreasonable.'</p> + +<p>'Sir,' said Susan, after consulting her mother's eyes, +'there is, to be sure, a favour I should like to ask; it is for +Rose.'</p> + +<p>'Well, I don't know who Rose is,' said Sir Arthur, smiling; +'but go on.'</p> + +<p>'Ma'am, you have seen her, I believe; she is a very good +girl, indeed,' said Mrs. Price. 'And works very neatly, +indeed,' continued Susan, eagerly, to Miss Somers; 'and she +and her mother heard you were looking out for some one to +wait upon you.'</p> + +<p>'Say no more,' said Miss Somers; 'your wish is granted. +Tell Rose to come to the Abbey to-morrow morning, or, rather, +come with her yourself; for our housekeeper, I know, wants to +talk to you about a certain cake. She wishes, Susan, that you<span class="pagenum">[139]</span> +should be the maker of the cake for the dance; and she has +good things ready looked out for it already, I know. It must +be large enough for everybody to have a slice, and the housekeeper +will ice it for you. I only hope your cake will be as +good as your bread. Fare ye well.'</p> + +<p>How happy are those who bid farewell to a whole family, +silent with gratitude, who will bless them aloud when they are +far out of hearing!</p> + +<p>'How do I wish, now,' said Farmer Price, 'and it's almost +a sin for one who has had such a power of favours done him to +wish for anything more; but how I <i>do</i> wish, wife, that our good +friend, the harper, was only here at this time. It would do his +old warm heart good. Well, the best of it is, we shall be able +next year, when he comes his rounds, to pay him his money +with thanks, being all the time, and for ever, as much obliged +to him as if we kept it. I long, so I do, to see him in this +house again, drinking, as he did, just in this spot, a glass of +Susan's mead, to her very good health.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Susan, 'and the next time he comes, I can give +him one of my guinea-hen's eggs, and I shall show my lamb, +Daisy.'</p> + +<p>'True, love,' said her mother, 'and he will play that tune +and sing that pretty ballad. Where is it? for I have not +finished it.'</p> + +<p>'Rose ran away with it, mother, but I'll step after her, and +bring it back to you this minute,' said Susan.</p> + +<p>Susan found her friend Rose at the hawthorn, in the midst +of a crowded circle of her companions, to whom she was +reading 'Susan's Lamentation for her Lamb.'</p> + +<p>'The words are something, but the tune—the tune—I +must have the tune,' cried Philip. 'I'll ask my mother to ask +Sir Arthur to try and find out which way that good old man +went after the ball; and if he's above ground, we'll have him +back by Susan's birthday, and he shall sit here—just exactly +here—by this, our bush, and he shall play—I mean, if he +pleases—that same tune for us, and I shall learn it—I mean, if +I can—in a minute.'</p> + +<p>The good news that Farmer Price was to be employed to +collect the rents, and that Attorney Case was to leave the +parish in a month, soon spread over the village. Many came +out of their houses to have the pleasure of hearing the joyful<span class="pagenum">[140]</span> +tidings confirmed by Susan herself. The crowd on the play-green +increased every minute.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' cried the triumphant Philip, 'I tell you it's all true, +every word of it. Susan's too modest to say it herself; but I +tell ye all, Sir Arthur gave us this play-green for ever, on +account of her being so good.'</p> + +<p>You see, at last Attorney Case, with all his cunning, has not +proved a match for 'Simple Susan.'</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[141]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="THE_WHITE_PIGEON" id="THE_WHITE_PIGEON"></a>THE WHITE PIGEON</h2> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">The</span> little town of Somerville, in Ireland, has, within these +few years, assumed the neat and cheerful appearance of an +English village. Mr. Somerville, to whom this town belongs, +wished to inspire his tenantry with a taste for order and +domestic happiness, and took every means in his power to +encourage industrious, well-behaved people to settle in his +neighbourhood. When he had finished building a row of +good slated houses in his town, he declared that he would let +them to the best tenants he could find, and proposals were +publicly sent to him from all parts of the country.</p> + +<p>By the best tenants, Mr. Somerville did not, however, mean +the best bidders; and many, who had offered an extravagant +price for the houses, were surprised to find their proposals +rejected. Amongst these was Mr. Cox, an alehouse-keeper, +who did not bear a very good character.</p> + +<p>'Please your honour, sir,' said he to Mr. Somerville, 'I +<i>expected</i>, since I bid as fair and fairer for it than any other, that +you would have let me the house next the apothecary's. Was +not it fifteen guineas I mentioned in my proposal? and did not +your honour give it against me for thirteen?' 'My honour +did just so,' replied Mr. Somerville calmly. 'And please +your honour, but I don't know what it is I or mine have done +to offend you. I'm sure there is not a gentleman in all Ireland +I'd go further to sarve. Would not I go to Cork to-morrow +for the least word from your honour?' 'I am much obliged +to you, Mr. Cox, but I have no business at Cork at present,' +answered Mr. Somerville drily. 'It is all I wish,' exclaimed +Mr. Cox, 'that I could find out and light upon the man that +has belied me to your honour.' 'No man has belied you, Mr.<span class="pagenum">[142]</span> +Cox, but your nose belies you much, if you do not love drinking +a little, and your black eye and cut chin belie you much if you +do not love quarrelling a little.'</p> + +<p>'Quarrel! I quarrel, please your honour! I defy any man, +or set of men, ten mile round, to prove such a thing, and I am +ready to fight him that dares to say the like of me. I'd fight +him here in your honour's presence, if he'd only come out this +minute and meet me like a man.'</p> + +<p>Here Mr. Cox put himself into a boxing attitude, but +observing that Mr. Somerville looked at his threatening +gesture with a smile, and that several people, who had gathered +round him as he stood in the street, laughed at the proof he +gave of his peaceable disposition, he changed his attitude, and +went on to vindicate himself against the charge of drinking.</p> + +<p>'And as to drink, please your honour, there's no truth in it. +Not a drop of whisky, good or bad, have I touched these six +months, except what I took with Jemmy M'Doole the night I +had the misfortune to meet your honour coming home from the +fair of Ballynagrish.'</p> + +<p>To this speech Mr. Somerville made no answer, but turned +away to look at the bow-window of a handsome new inn, which +the glazier was at this instant glazing. 'Please your honour, +that new inn is not let, I hear, as yet,' resumed Mr. Cox; 'if +your honour recollects, you promised to make me a compliment +of it last Seraphtide was twelvemonth.'</p> + +<p>'Impossible!' cried Mr. Somerville, 'for I had no thoughts +of building an inn at that time.' 'Oh, I beg your honour's +pardon, but if you'd be just pleased to recollect, it was coming +through the gap in the bog meadows, <i>forenent</i> Thady +O'Connor, you made me the promise—I'll leave it to him, so I +will.' 'But I will not leave it to him, I assure you,' cried Mr. +Somerville; 'I never made any such promise. I never +thought of letting this inn to you.' 'Then your honour won't +let me have it?' 'No; you have told me a dozen falsehoods. +I do not wish to have you for a tenant.'</p> + +<p>'Well, God bless your honour; I've no more to say, but +God bless your honour,' said Mr. Cox; and he walked away, +muttering to himself, as he slouched his hat over his face, 'I +hope I'll live to be revenged on him!'</p> + +<p>Mr. Somerville the next morning went with his family to +look at the new inn, which he expected to see perfectly<span class="pagenum">[143]</span> +finished; but he was met by the carpenter, who, with a rueful +face, informed him that six panes of glass in the large bow-window +had been broken during the night.</p> + +<p>'Ha! perhaps Mr. Cox has broken my windows, in revenge +for my refusing to let him my house,' said Mr. Somerville; and +many of the neighbours, who knew the malicious character of +this Mr. Cox, observed that this was like one of his tricks. A +boy of about twelve years old, however, stepped forward and +said, 'I don't like Mr. Cox, I'm sure; for once he beat me +when he was drunk; but, for all that, no one should be +accused wrongfully. He <i>could</i> not be the person that broke +these windows last night, for he was six miles off. He slept at +his cousin's last night, and he has not returned home yet. So +I think he knows nothing of the matter.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Somerville was pleased with the honest simplicity of +this boy, and observing that he looked in eagerly at the staircase, +when the house door was opened, he asked him whether +he would like to go in and see the new house. 'Yes, sir,' said +the boy, 'I should like to go up those stairs, and to see what I +should come to.' 'Up with you, then!' said Mr. Somerville; +and the boy ran up the stairs. He went from room to room +with great expressions of admiration and delight. At length, +as he was examining one of the garrets, he was startled by a +fluttering noise over his head; and looking up he saw a white +pigeon, who, frightened at his appearance, began to fly round +and round the room, till it found its way out of the door, and +flew into the staircase.</p> + +<p>The carpenter was speaking to Mr. Somerville upon the +landing-place of the stairs; but, the moment he spied the white +pigeon, he broke off in the midst of a speech about <i>the nose</i> of +the stairs, and exclaimed, 'There he is, please your honour! +There's he that has done all the damage to our bow-window—that's +the very same wicked white pigeon that broke the church +windows last Sunday was se'nnight; but he's down for it now; +we have him safe, and I'll chop his head off, as he deserves, +this minute.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i012f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i012t.jpg" alt="i012t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption">'<i>Stay! oh stay! don't chop his head off.</i>'</p> +</div> + +<p>'Stay! oh stay! don't chop his head off: he does not +deserve it,' cried the boy, who came running out of the garret +with the greatest eagerness—'<i>I</i> broke your window, sir,' said he +to Mr. Somerville. 'I broke your window with this ball; but I +did not know that I had done it, till this moment, I assure +<span class="pagenum">[145]</span>you, or I should have told you before. Don't chop his head +off,' added the boy to the carpenter, who had now the white +pigeon in his hands. 'No,' said Mr. Somerville, 'the pigeon's +head shall not be chopped off, nor yours either, my good boy, +for breaking a window. I am persuaded by your open, +honest countenance, that you are speaking the truth; but +pray explain this matter to us; for you have not made it quite +clear. How happened it that you could break my windows +without knowing it? and how came you to find it out at last?' +'Sir,' said the boy, 'if you'll come up here, I'll show you all I +know, and how I came to know it.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Somerville followed the boy into the garret, who pointed +to a pane of glass that was broken in a small window that +looked out upon a piece of waste ground behind the house. +Upon this piece of waste ground the children of the village +often used to play. 'We were playing there at ball yesterday +evening,' continued the boy, addressing himself to Mr. Somerville, +'and one of the lads challenged me to hit a mark in the +wall, which I did; but he said I did not hit it, and bade me +give him up my ball as the forfeit. This I would not do; and +when he began to wrestle with me for it, I threw the ball, as I +thought, over the house. He ran to look for it in the street, +but could not find it, which I was very glad of; but I was +very sorry just now to find it myself lying upon this heap of +shavings, sir, under this broken window; for, as soon as I +saw it lying there, I knew I must have been the person +that broke the window; and through this window came the +white pigeon. Here's one of his white feathers sticking in +the gap.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said the carpenter, 'and in the bow-window room +below there's plenty of his feathers to be seen; for I've just +been down to look. It was the pigeon broke <i>them</i> windows, +sure enough.' 'But he could not have got in had I not broke +this little window,' said the boy eagerly; 'and I am able to +earn sixpence a day, and I'll pay for all the mischief, and +welcome. The white pigeon belongs to a poor neighbour, a +friend of ours, who is very fond of him, and I would not have +him killed for twice as much money.'</p> + +<p>'Take the pigeon, my honest, generous lad,' said Mr. +Somerville, 'and carry him back to your neighbour. I forgive +him all the mischief he has done me, tell your friend, for your<span class="pagenum">[146]</span> +sake. As to the rest, we can have the windows mended; and +do you keep all the sixpences you earn for yourself.'</p> + +<p>'That's what he never did yet,' said the carpenter. 'Many's +the sixpence he earns, but not a halfpenny goes into his own +pocket: it goes every farthing to his poor father and mother. +Happy for them to have such a son!'</p> + +<p>'More happy for him to have such a father and mother,' +exclaimed the boy. 'Their good days they took all the best +care of me that was to be had for love or money, and would, +if I would let them, go on paying for my schooling now, falling +as they be in the world; but I must learn to mind the shop +now. Good morning to you, sir; and thank you kindly,' said +he to Mr. Somerville.</p> + +<p>'And where does this boy live, and who are his father and +mother? They cannot live in town,' said Mr. Somerville, 'or +I should have heard of them.'</p> + +<p>'They are but just come into the town, please your honour,' +said the carpenter. 'They lived formerly upon Counsellor +O'Donnel's estate; but they were ruined, please your honour, +by taking a joint lease with a man who fell afterwards into bad +company, ran out all he had, so could not pay the landlord; +and these poor people were forced to pay his share and their +own too, which almost ruined them. They were obliged to +give up the land; and now they have furnished a little shop +in this town with what goods they could afford to buy with the +money they got by the sale of their cattle and stock. They +have the goodwill of all who know them; and I am sure I +hope they will do well. The boy is very ready in the shop, +though he said only that he could earn sixpence a day. He +writes a good hand, and is quick at casting up accounts, for +his age. Besides, he is likely to do well in the world, because +he is never in idle company, and I've known him since he was +two foot high, and never heard of his telling a lie.'</p> + +<p>'This is an excellent character of the boy, indeed,' said +Mr. Somerville, 'and from his behaviour this morning I am +inclined to think that he deserves all your praises.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Somerville resolved to inquire more fully concerning +this poor family, and to attend to their conduct himself, fully +determined to assist them if he should find them such as they +had been represented.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, this boy, whose name was Brian O'Neill,<span class="pagenum">[147]</span> +went to return the white pigeon to its owner. 'You have saved +its life,' said the woman to whom it belonged, 'and I'll make +you a present of it.' Brian thanked her; and he from that day +began to grow fond of the pigeon. He always took care to +scatter some oats for it in his father's yard; and the pigeon +grew so tame at last that it would hop about the kitchen, and +eat off the same trencher with the dog.</p> + +<p>Brian, after the shop was shut up at night, used to amuse +himself with reading some little books which the schoolmaster +who formerly taught him arithmetic was so good as to lend +him. Amongst these he one evening met with a little book +full of the history of birds and beasts; he looked immediately +to see whether the pigeon was mentioned amongst the birds, +and, to his great joy, he found a full description and history of +his favourite bird.</p> + +<p>'So, Brian, I see your schooling has not been thrown away +upon you; you like your book, I see, when you have no master +over you to bid you read,' said his father, when he came in +and saw Brian reading his book very attentively.</p> + +<p>'Thank you for having me taught to read, father,' said +Brian. 'Here I've made a great discovery: I've found out in +this book, little as it looks, father, a most curious way of +making a fortune; and I hope it will make your fortune, father, +and if you'll sit down, I'll tell it to you.'</p> + +<p>Mr. O'Neill, in hopes of pleasing his son rather than in the +expectation of having his fortune made, immediately sat down +to listen; and his son explained to him that he had found in +his book an account of pigeons who carried notes and letters: +'and, father,' continued Brian, 'I find my pigeon is of this +sort; and I intend to make my pigeon carry messages. Why +should not he? If other pigeons have done so before him, I +think he is as good, and, I daresay, will be as easy to teach as +any pigeon in the world. I shall begin to teach him to-morrow +morning; and then, father, you know people often pay a great +deal for sending messengers: and no boy can run, no horse +can gallop, so fast as a bird can fly; therefore the bird must +be the best messenger, and I should be paid the best price. +Hey, father?'</p> + +<p>'To be sure, to be sure, my boy,' said his father, laughing; +'I wish you may make the best messenger in Ireland of your +pigeon; but all I beg, my dear boy, is that you won't neglect<span class="pagenum">[148]</span> +our shop for your pigeon; for I've a notion we have a better +chance of making a fortune by the shop than by the white +pigeon.'</p> + +<p>Brian never neglected the shop: but in his leisure hours he +amused himself with training his pigeon; and after much +patience he at last succeeded so well, that one day he went to +his father and offered to send him word by his pigeon what +beef was a pound in the market of Ballynagrish, where he was +going. 'The pigeon will be home long before me, father; +and he will come in at the kitchen window and light upon the +dresser; then you must untie the little note which I shall have +tied under his left wing, and you'll know the price of beef +directly.'</p> + +<p>The pigeon carried his message well; and Brian was much +delighted with his success. He soon was employed by the +neighbours, who were aroused by Brian's fondness of his swift +messenger; and soon the fame of the white pigeon was spread +amongst all who frequented the markets and fairs of Somerville.</p> + +<p>At one of these fairs a set of men of desperate fortunes met +to drink, and to concert plans of robberies. Their place of +meeting was at the alehouse of Mr. Cox, the man who, as our +readers may remember, was offended by Mr. Somerville's hinting +that he was fond of drinking and of quarrelling, and who threatened +vengeance for having been refused the new inn.</p> + +<p>Whilst these men were talking over their schemes, one of +them observed that one of their companions was not arrived. +Another said, 'No.' 'He's six miles off,' said another; and +a third wished that he could make him hear at that distance. +This turned the discourse upon the difficulties of sending messages +secretly and quickly. Cox's son, a lad of about nineteen, +who was one of this gang, mentioned the white carrier pigeon, +and he was desired to try all means to get it into his possession. +Accordingly, the next day young Cox went to Brian O'Neill, +and tried, at first by persuasion and afterwards by threats, to +prevail upon him to give up the pigeon. Brian was resolute +in his refusal, more especially when the petitioner began to +bully him.</p> + +<p>'If we can't have it by fair means, we will by foul,' said +Cox; and a few days afterwards the pigeon was gone. Brian +searched for it in vain—inquired from all the neighbours if<span class="pagenum">[149]</span> +they had seen it, and applied, but to no purpose, to Cox. He +swore that he knew nothing about the matter. But this was +false, for it was he who during the night-time had stolen the +white pigeon. He conveyed it to his employers, and they +rejoiced that they had gotten it into their possession, as they +thought it would serve them for a useful messenger.</p> + +<p>Nothing can be more short-sighted than cunning. The +very means which these people took to secure secrecy were the +means of bringing their plots to light. They endeavoured to +teach the pigeon, which they had stolen, to carry messages for +them in a part of the country at some distance from Somerville; +and when they fancied that it had forgotten its former +habits and its old master, they thought that they might venture +to employ him nearer home. The pigeon, however, had a +better memory than they imagined. They loosed him from a +bag near the town of Ballynagrish, in hopes that he would +stop at the house of Cox's cousin, which was on its road between +Ballynagrish and Somerville. But the pigeon, though +he had been purposely fed at this house for a week before this +trial, did not stop there, but flew on to his old master's house +in Somerville, and pecked at the kitchen window, as he had +formerly been taught to do. His father, fortunately, was within +hearing, and poor Brian ran with the greatest joy to open the +window and to let him in.</p> + +<p>'Oh, father, here's my white pigeon come back of his own +accord,' exclaimed Brian; 'I must run and show him to my +mother.' At this instant the pigeon spread his wings, and +Brian discovered under one of its wings a small and very dirty-looking +billet. He opened it in his father's presence. The +scrawl was scarcely legible; but these words were at length +deciphered:—</p> + +<br /> + +<p>'Thare are eight of uz sworn: I send yo at botom thare +names. We meat at tin this nite at my faders, and have +harms and all in radiness to brak into the grate 'ouse. Mr. +Summervill is to lye out to nite—kip the pigeon untill to-morrow. +For ever yours, +<span class="smcap" style=" float : right">Murtagh Cox, Jun.'</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p>Scarcely had they finished reading this note, than both +father and son exclaimed, 'Let us go and show it to Mr. +Somerville.' Before they set out, they had, however, the<span class="pagenum">[150]</span> +prudence to secure the pigeon, so that he should not be seen +by any one but themselves.</p> + +<p>Mr. Somerville, in consequence of this fortunate discovery, +took proper measures for the apprehension of the eight men +who had sworn to rob his house. When they were all safely +lodged in the county gaol, he sent for Brian O'Neill and his +father; and after thanking them for the service they had done +him, he counted out ten bright guineas upon a table, and +pushed them towards Brian, saying, 'I suppose you know +that a reward of ten guineas was offered some weeks ago for +the discovery of John MacDermod, one of the eight men +whom we have just taken up?'</p> + +<p>'No, sir,' said Brian; 'I did not know it, and I did not +bring that note to you to get ten guineas, but because I +thought it was right. I don't want to be paid for doing it.' +'That's my own boy,' said his father. 'We thank you, sir; +but we'll not take the money; <i>I don't like to take the price of +blood.</i>'</p> + +<p>'I know the difference, my good friends,' said Mr. Somerville, +'between vile informers and courageous, honest men.' +'Why, as to that, please your honour, though we are poor, I +hope we are honest.' 'And, what is more,' said Mr. Somerville, +'I have a notion that you would continue to be honest, +even if you were rich.</p> + +<p>'Will you, my good lad,' continued Mr. Somerville, after a +moment's pause—'will you trust me with your pigeon a few +days?' 'Oh, and welcome, sir,' said the boy, with a smile; and +he brought the pigeon to Mr. Somerville when it was dark, and +nobody saw him.</p> + +<p>A few days afterwards, Mr. Somerville called at O'Neill's +house, and bid him and his son follow him. They followed +till he stopped opposite to the bow-window of the new inn. +The carpenter had just put up a sign, which was covered over +with a bit of carpeting.</p> + +<p>'Go up the ladder, will you?' said Mr. Somerville to Brian, +'and pull that sign straight, for it hangs quite crooked. There, +now it is straight. Now pull off the carpet, and let us see the +new sign.'</p> + +<p>The boy pulled off the cover, and saw a white pigeon +painted upon the sign, and the name of O'Neill in large letters +underneath.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i013f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i013t.jpg" alt="i013t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>The boy pulled off the cover, and saw a white pigeon painted upon the sign.</i></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[152]</span>'Take care you do not tumble down and break your neck +upon this joyful occasion,' said Mr. Somerville, who saw that +Brian's surprise was too great for his situation. 'Come down +from the ladder, and wish your father joy of being master of +the new inn called the "White Pigeon." And I wish him +joy of having such a son as you are. Those who bring up +their children well, will certainly be rewarded for it, be they +poor or rich.'</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[153]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="THE_BIRTHDAY_PRESENT" id="THE_BIRTHDAY_PRESENT"></a>THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT</h2> + +<p class="noin">'<span class="smcap">Mamma</span>,' said Rosamond, after a long silence, 'do you +know what I have been thinking of all this time?' 'No, my +dear—What?' 'Why, mamma, about my cousin Bell's birthday; +do you know what day it is?' 'No, I don't remember.' +'Dear mother! don't you remember it's the 22nd of December; +and her birthday is the day after to-morrow? Don't you recollect +now? But you never remember about birthdays, mamma. +That was just what I was thinking of, that you never remember +my sister Laura's birthday, or—or—or <i>mine</i>, mamma.'</p> + +<p>'What do you mean, my dear? I remember your birthday +perfectly well.' 'Indeed! but you never <i>keep</i> it, though.' +'What do you mean by keeping your birthday?' 'Oh, +mamma, you know very well—as Bell's birthday is kept. In +the first place, there is a great dinner.' 'And can Bell eat +more upon her birthday than upon any other day?' 'No; +nor I should not mind about the dinner, except the mince-pies. +But Bell has a great many nice things—I don't mean nice +eatable things, but nice new playthings, given to her always +on her birthday; and everybody drinks her health, and she's +so happy.'</p> + +<p>'But stay, Rosamond, how you jumble things together! Is +it everybody's drinking her health that makes her so happy? +or the new playthings, or the nice mince-pies? I can easily +believe that she is happy whilst she is eating a mince-pie, or +whilst she is playing; but how does everybody's drinking her +health at dinner make her happy?'</p> + +<p>Rosamond paused, and then said she did not know. 'But,' +added she, 'the <i>nice new</i> playthings, mother!' 'But why the +nice new playthings? Do you like them only because they +are <i>new</i>?' 'Not <i>only</i>—<i>I</i> do not like playthings <i>only</i> because<span class="pagenum">[154]</span> +they are new: but Bell <i>does</i>, I believe—for that puts me in +mind—Do you know, mother, she had a great drawer full of +<i>old</i> playthings that she never used, and she said that they +were good for nothing, because they were <i>old</i>; but I thought +many of them were good for a great deal more than the new +ones. Now you shall be judge, mamma; I'll tell you all that +was in the drawer.'</p> + +<p>'Nay, Rosamond, thank you, not just now; I have not time +to listen to you.'</p> + +<p>'Well then, mamma, the day after to-morrow I can show +you the drawer. I want you to judge very much, because I +am sure I was in the right. And, mother,' added Rosamond, +stopping her as she was going out of the room, 'will you—not +now, but when you've time—will you tell me why you never +keep my birthday—why you never make any difference between +that day and any other day?' 'And will you, Rosamond—not +now, but when you have time to think about it—tell +me why I should make any difference between your birthday +and any other day?'</p> + +<p>Rosamond thought, but she could not find out any reason; +besides, she suddenly recollected that she had not time to think +any longer; for there was a certain work-basket to be finished, +which she was making for her cousin Bell, as a present upon +her birthday. The work was at a stand for want of some +filigree-paper, and, as her mother was going out, she asked her +to take her with her, that she might buy some. Her sister +Laura went with them.</p> + +<p>'Sister,' said Rosamond, as they were walking along, 'what +have you done with your half-guinea?' 'I have it in my +pocket.' 'Dear! you will keep it for ever in your pocket. +You know, my godmother when she gave it to you said you +would keep it longer than I should keep mine; and I know +what she thought by her look at the time. I heard her say +something to my mother.' 'Yes,' said Laura, smiling; 'she +whispered so loud that I could not help hearing her too. She +said I was a little miser.' 'But did not you hear her say +that I was very <i>generous</i>? and she'll see that she was not mistaken. +I hope she'll be by when I give my basket to Bell—won't +it be beautiful? There is to be a wreath of myrtle, you +know, round the handle, and a frost ground, and then the +medallions——'<span class="pagenum">[155]</span></p> + +<p>'Stay,' interrupted her sister, for Rosamond, anticipating +the glories of her work-basket, talked and walked so fast that +she had passed, without perceiving it, the shop where the filigree-paper +was to be bought. They turned back. Now it +happened that the shop was the corner house of a street, and +one of the windows looked out into a narrow lane. A coach +full of ladies stopped at the door, just before they went in, so +that no one had time immediately to think of Rosamond and +her filigree-paper, and she went to the window where she saw +her sister Laura looking earnestly at something that was passing +in the lane.</p> + +<p>Opposite to the window, at the door of a poor-looking +house, there was sitting a little girl weaving lace. Her +bobbins moved as quick as lightning, and she never once +looked up from her work. 'Is not she very industrious?' said +Laura; 'and very honest, too?' added she in a minute afterwards; +for just then a baker with a basket of rolls on his head +passed, and by accident one of the rolls fell close to the little +girl. She took it up eagerly, looked at it as if she was very +hungry, then put aside her work, and ran after the baker to +return it to him. Whilst she was gone, a footman in a livery +laced with silver, who belonged to the coach that stood at the +shop door, as he was lounging with one of his companions, +chanced to spy the weaving pillow, which she had left upon a +stone before the door. To divert himself (for idle people do +mischief often to divert themselves) he took up the pillow, and +entangled all the bobbins. The little girl came back out of +breath to her work; but what was her surprise and sorrow to +find it spoiled. She twisted and untwisted, placed and replaced, +the bobbins, while the footman stood laughing at her +distress. She got up gently, and was retiring into the house, +when the silver-laced footman stopped her, saying, insolently, +'Sit still, child.' 'I must go to my mother, sir,' said the +child; 'besides, you have spoiled all my lace. I can't stay.' +'Can't you?' said the brutal footman, snatching her weaving-pillow +again, 'I'll teach you to complain of me.' And he broke +off, one after another, all the bobbins, put them into his pocket, +rolled her weaving-pillow down the dirty lane, then jumped up +behind his mistress's coach, and was out of sight in an instant.</p> + +<p>'Poor girl!' exclaimed Rosamond, no longer able to restrain +her indignation at this injustice; 'poor little girl!'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i014f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i014t.jpg" alt="i014t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>She twisted and untwisted, placed and replaced, the bobbins, while the footman +stood laughing at her distress.</i></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[157]</span>At this instant her mother said to Rosamond—'Come, +now, my dear, if you want this filigree-paper, buy it.' 'Yes, +madam,' said Rosamond; and the idea of what her godmother +and her cousin Bell would think of her generosity rushed again +upon her imagination. All her feelings of pity were immediately +suppressed. Satisfied with bestowing another exclamation +upon the '<i>poor little girl</i>!' she went to spend her half-guinea +upon her filigree basket. In the meantime, she that was +called the '<i>little miser</i>' beckoned to the poor girl, and, +opening the window, said, pointing to the cushion, 'Is it quite +spoiled?' 'Quite! quite spoiled! and I can't, nor mother +neither, buy another; and I can't do anything else for my +bread.' A few, but very few, tears fell as she said this.</p> + +<p>'How much would another cost?' said Laura. 'Oh, a +great—<i>great</i> deal.' 'More than that?' said Laura, holding +up her half-guinea. 'Oh no.' 'Then you can buy another +with that,' said Laura, dropping the half-guinea into her hand; +and she shut the window before the child could find words to +thank her, but not before she saw a look of joy and gratitude, +which gave Laura more pleasure probably than all the praise +which could have been bestowed upon her generosity.</p> + +<p>Late on the morning of her cousin's birthday, Rosamond +finished her work-basket. The carriage was at the door—Laura +came running to call her; her father's voice was heard +at the same instant; so she was obliged to go down with her +basket but half wrapped up in silver paper—a circumstance at +which she was a good deal disconcerted; for the pleasure of +surprising Bell would be utterly lost if one bit of the filigree +should peep out before the proper time. As the carriage went +on, Rosamond pulled the paper to one side and to the other, +and by each of the four corners.</p> + +<p>'It will never do, my dear,' said her father, who had been +watching her operations. 'I am afraid you will never make +a sheet of paper cover a box which is twice as large as itself.'</p> + +<p>'It is not a box, father,' said Rosamond, a little peevishly; +'it's a basket.'</p> + +<p>'Let us look at this basket,' said he, taking it out of her +unwilling hands, for she knew of what frail materials it was +made, and she dreaded its coming to pieces under her father's +examination. He took hold of the handle rather roughly; +when, starting off the coach seat, she cried, 'Oh, sir! father!<span class="pagenum">[158]</span> +sir! you will spoil it indeed!' said she, with increased +vehemence, when, after drawing aside the veil of silver paper, +she saw him grasp the myrtle-wreathed handle. 'Indeed, sir, +you will spoil the poor handle.'</p> + +<p>'But what is the use of <i>the poor handle</i>,' said her father, 'if +we are not to take hold of it? And pray,' continued he, +turning the basket round with his finger and thumb, rather in +a disrespectful manner, 'pray, is this the thing you have been +about all this week? I have seen you all this week dabbling +with paste and rags; I could not conceive what you were +about. Is this the thing?' 'Yes, sir. You think, then, that +I have wasted my time, because the basket is of no use; but +then it is for a present for my cousin Bell.' 'Your cousin +Bell will be very much obliged to you for a present that +is of no use. You had better have given her the purple jar.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, father! I thought you had forgotten that—it was two +years ago; I'm not so silly now. But Bell will like the +basket, I know, though it is of no use.'</p> + +<p>'Then you think Bell is sillier <i>now</i> than you were two +years ago,—well, perhaps that is true; but how comes it, +Rosamond, now that you are so wise, that you are fond of +such a silly person?' '<i>I</i>, father?' said Rosamond, hesitating; +'I don't think I am <i>very</i> fond of her.' 'I did not say <i>very</i> +fond.' 'Well, but I don't think I am at all fond of her.' +'But you have spent a whole week in making this thing for +her.' 'Yes, and all my half-guinea besides.'</p> + +<p>'Yet you think her silly, and you are not fond of her at +all; and you say you know this thing will be of no use to +her.'</p> + +<p>'But it is her birthday, sir; and I am sure she will <i>expect</i> +something, and everybody else will give her something.'</p> + +<p>'Then your reason for giving is because she expects you to +give her something. And will you, or can you, or should you, +always give, merely because others <i>expect</i>, or because somebody +else gives?' 'Always?—no, not always.' 'Oh, only +on birthdays.'</p> + +<p>Rosamond, laughing: 'Now you are making a joke of me, +papa, I see; but I thought you liked that people should be +generous,—my godmother said that she did.' 'So do I, full +as well as your godmother; but we have not yet quite settled +what it is to be generous.' 'Why, is it not generous to make<span class="pagenum">[159]</span> +presents?' said Rosamond. 'That is the question which it +would take up a great deal of time to answer. But, for +instance, to make a present of a thing that you know can be +of no use to a person you neither love nor esteem, because it +is her birthday, and because everybody gives her something, +and because she expects something, and because your godmother +says she likes that people should be generous, seems +to me, my dear Rosamond, to be, since I must say it, rather +more like folly than generosity.'</p> + +<p>Rosamond looked down upon the basket, and was silent. +'Then I am a fool, am I?' said she, looking up at last. +'Because you have made <i>one</i> mistake? No. If you have +sense enough to see your own mistakes, and can afterwards +avoid them, you will never be a fool.'</p> + +<p>Here the carriage stopped, and Rosamond recollected that +the basket was uncovered.</p> + +<p>Now we must observe that Rosamond's father had not +been too severe upon Bell when he called her a silly girl. +From her infancy she had been humoured; and at eight years +old she had the misfortune to be a spoiled child. She was +idle, fretful, and selfish; so that nothing could make her +happy. On her birthday she expected, however, to be +perfectly happy. Everybody in the house tried to please her, +and they succeeded so well that between breakfast and dinner +she had only six fits of crying. The cause of five of these +fits no one could discover: but the last, and most lamentable, +was occasioned by a disappointment about a worked muslin +frock; and accordingly, at dressing time, her maid brought it +to her, exclaiming, 'See here, miss, what your mamma has +sent you on your birthday. Here's a frock fit for a queen—if +it had but lace round the cuffs.' 'And why has not it lace +around the cuffs? mamma said it should.' 'Yes, but mistress +was disappointed about the lace; it is not come home.' 'Not +come home, indeed! and didn't they know it was my birthday? +But then I say I won't wear it without the lace—I can't wear +it without the lace, and I won't.'</p> + +<p>The lace, however, could not be had; and Bell at length +submitted to let the frock be put on. 'Come, Miss Bell, dry +your eyes,' said the maid who <i>educated</i> her; 'dry your eyes, +and I'll tell you something that will please you.'</p> + +<p>'What, then?' said the child, pouting and sobbing. 'Why——but<span class="pagenum">[160]</span> +you must not tell that I told you.' 'No,—but if I +am asked?' 'Why, if you are asked, you must tell the truth, +to be sure. So I'll hold my tongue, miss.' 'Nay, tell me, +though, and I'll never tell—if I <i>am</i> asked.' 'Well, then,' +said the maid, 'your cousin Rosamond is come, and has +brought you the most <i>beautifullest</i> thing you ever saw in your +life; but you are not to know anything about it till after +dinner, because she wants to surprise you; and mistress has +put it into her wardrobe till after dinner.' 'Till after dinner!' +repeated Bell impatiently; 'I can't wait till then; I must see +it this minute.' The maid refused her several times, till Bell +burst into another fit of crying, and the maid, fearing that her +mistress would be angry with <i>her</i>, if Bell's eyes were red at +dinner time, consented to show her the basket.</p> + +<p>'How pretty!—but let me have it in my own hands,' said +Bell, as the maid held the basket up out of her reach. 'Oh, +no, you must not touch it; for if you should spoil it, what +would become of me?' 'Become of you, indeed!' exclaimed +the spoiled child, who never considered anything but her +own immediate gratification—'Become of <i>you</i>, indeed! what +signifies that?—I shan't spoil it; and I will have it in my own +hands. If you don't hold it down for me directly, I'll tell that +you showed it to me.' 'Then you won't snatch it?' 'No, +no, I won't indeed,' said Bell; but she had learned from her +maid a total disregard of truth. She snatched the basket the +moment it was within her reach. A struggle ensued, in +which the handle and lid were torn off, and one of the +medallions crushed inwards, before the little fury returned to +her senses.</p> + +<p>Calmed at this sight, the next question was, how she should +conceal the mischief which she had done. After many attempts, +the handle and lid were replaced; the basket was put exactly +in the same spot in which it had stood before, and the maid +charged the child '<i>to look as if nothing was the matter</i>.'</p> + +<p>We hope that both children and parents will here pause for +a moment to reflect. The habits of tyranny, meanness, and +falsehood, which children acquire from living with bad servants, +are scarcely ever conquered in the whole course of their future +lives.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i015f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i015t.jpg" alt="i015t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption">'<i>I shan't spoil it; and I will have it in my own hands.</i>'</p> +</div> + +<p>After shutting up the basket they left the room, and in the +adjoining passage they found a poor girl waiting with a small +<span class="pagenum">[162]</span>parcel in her hand. 'What's your business?' said the maid. +'I have brought home the lace, madam, that was bespoke for +the young lady.' 'Oh, you have, have you, at last?' said +Bell; 'and pray why didn't you bring it sooner?' The girl +was going to answer, but the maid interrupted her, saying, +'Come, come, none of your excuses; you are a little idle, good-for-nothing +thing, to disappoint Miss Bell upon her birthday. +But now you have brought it, let us look at it!'</p> + +<p>The little girl gave the lace without reply, and the maid +desired her to go about her business, and not to expect to be +paid; for that her mistress could not see anybody, <i>because</i> she +was in a room full of company.</p> + +<p>'May I call again, madam, this afternoon?' said the child, +timidly.</p> + +<p>'Lord bless my stars!' replied the maid, 'what makes +people so poor, I <i>wonders</i>! I wish mistress would buy her lace +at the warehouse, as I told her, and not of these folks. Call +again! yes, to be sure. I believe you'd call, call, call twenty +times for twopence.'</p> + +<p>However ungraciously the permission to call again was +granted, it was received with gratitude. The little girl departed +with a cheerful countenance, and Bell teased her maid +till she got her to sew the long-wished-for lace upon her cuffs.</p> + +<p>Unfortunate Bell!—All dinner time passed, and people were +so hungry, so busy, or so stupid, that not an eye observed her +favourite piece of finery. Till at length she was no longer able +to conceal her impatience, and turning to Laura, who sat next +to her, she said, 'You have no lace upon your cuffs. Look how +beautiful mine is!—is not it? Don't you wish your mamma +could afford to give some like it? But you can't get any if she +would, for this was made on purpose for me on my birthday, +and nobody can get a bit more anywhere, if they would give +the world for it.' 'But cannot the person who made it,' said +Laura, 'make any more like it?' 'No, no, no!' cried Bell; +for she had already learned, either from her maid or her mother, +the mean pride which values things not for being really pretty +or useful, but for being such as nobody else can procure. 'Nobody +can get any like it, I say,' repeated Bell; 'nobody in all +London can make it but one person, and that person will never +make a bit for anybody but me, I am sure. Mamma won't let +her, if I ask her not.' 'Very well,' said Laura coolly, 'I do<span class="pagenum">[163]</span> +not want any of it; you need not be so violent: I assure you +that I don't want any of it.' 'Yes, but you do, though,' said +Bell, more angrily. 'No, indeed,' said Laura, smiling. 'You +do, in the bottom of your heart; but you say you don't to +plague me, I know,' cried Bell, swelling with disappointed +vanity. 'It is pretty for all that, and it cost a great deal of +money too, and nobody shall have any like it, if they cried +their eyes out.'</p> + +<p>Laura received this declaration in silence—Rosamond smiled; +and at her smile the ill-suppressed rage of the spoiled child burst +forth into the seventh and loudest fit of crying which had yet +been heard on her birthday.</p> + +<p>'What's the matter, my pet?' cried her mother; 'come to +me and tell me what's the matter.' Bell ran roaring to her +mother; but no otherwise explained the cause of her sorrow +than by tearing the fine lace with frantic gestures from her +cuffs, and throwing the fragments into her mother's lap. +'Oh! the lace, child!—are you mad?' said her mother, +catching hold of both her hands. 'Your beautiful lace, my +dear love—do you know how much it cost?' 'I don't care +how much it cost—it is not beautiful, and I'll have none of it,' +replied Bell, sobbing; 'for it is not beautiful.' 'But it is +beautiful,' retorted her mother; 'I chose the pattern myself. +Who has put it into your head, child, to dislike it? Was it +Nancy?' 'No, not Nancy, but <i>them</i>, mamma,' said Bell, +pointing to Laura and Rosamond. 'Oh, fie! don't <i>point</i>,' +said her mother, putting down her stubborn finger; 'nor say +<i>them</i>, like Nancy; I am sure you misunderstood. Miss +Laura, I am sure, did not mean any such thing.' 'No, +madam; and I did not say any such thing, that I recollect,' +said Laura, gently. 'Oh no, indeed!' cried Rosamond, +warmly, rising in her sister's defence.</p> + +<p>No defence or explanation, however, was to be heard, for +everybody had now gathered round Bell, to dry her tears, and +to comfort her for the mischief she had done to her own cuffs. +They succeeded so well, that in about a quarter of an hour the +young lady's eyes and the reddened arches over her eyebrows +came to their natural colour; and the business being thus +happily hushed up, the mother, as a reward to her daughter for +her good humour, begged that Rosamond would now be so good +as to produce her 'charming present.'<span class="pagenum">[164]</span></p> + +<p>Rosamond, followed by all the company, amongst whom, to +her great joy, was her godmother, proceeded to the dressing-room. +'Now I am sure,' thought she, 'Bell will be surprised, +and my godmother will see she was right about my generosity.'</p> + +<p>The doors of the wardrobe were opened with due ceremony, +and the filigree basket appeared in all its glory. 'Well, this is +a charming present, indeed!' said the godmother, who was one +of the company; '<i>my</i> Rosamond knows how to make presents.' +And as she spoke, she took hold of the basket, to lift it down +to the admiring audience. Scarcely had she touched it, when, +lo! the basket fell to the ground, and only the handle remained +in her hand. All eyes were fixed upon the wreck. Exclamations +of sorrow were heard in various tones; and 'Who can +have done this?' was all that Rosamond could say. Bell +stood in sullen silence, which she obstinately preserved in the +midst of the inquiries that were made about the disaster.</p> + +<p>At length the servants were summoned, and amongst them +Nancy, Miss Bell's maid and governess. She affected much +surprise when she saw what had befallen the basket, and +declared that she knew nothing of the matter, but that she had +seen her mistress in the morning put it quite safe into the +wardrobe; and that, for her part, she had never touched it, or +thought of touching it, in her born days. 'Nor Miss Bell, +neither, ma'am,—I can answer for her; for she never knew of +its being there, because I never so much as mentioned it to +her, that there was such a thing in the house, because I knew +Miss Rosamond wanted to surprise her with the secret; so I +never mentioned a sentence of it—did I, Miss Bell?'</p> + +<p>Bell, putting on the deceitful look which her maid had +taught her, answered boldly, '<i>No</i>'; but she had hold of +Rosamond's hand, and at the instant she uttered this falsehood +she squeezed it terribly. 'Why do you squeeze my hand so?' +said Rosamond, in a low voice; 'what are you afraid of?' +'Afraid of!' cried Bell, turning angrily; 'I'm not afraid of +anything—I've nothing to be afraid about.' 'Nay, I did not +say you had,' whispered Rosamond; 'but only if you did by +accident—you know what I mean—I should not be angry if +you did—only say so.' 'I say I did not!' cried Bell furiously. +'Mamma, mamma! Nancy! my cousin Rosamond won't +believe me! That's very hard. It's very rude, and I won't +bear it—I won't.' 'Don't be angry, love. Don't,' said the<span class="pagenum">[165]</span> +maid. 'Nobody suspects you, darling,' said her mother; 'but +she has too much sensibility. Don't cry, love; nobody +suspected you.' 'But you know,' continued she, turning to +the maid, 'somebody must have done this, and I must know +how it was done. Miss Rosamond's charming present must +not be spoiled in this way, in my house, without my taking +proper notice of it. I assure you I am very angry about it, +Rosamond.'</p> + +<p>Rosamond did not rejoice in her anger, and had nearly +made a sad mistake by speaking aloud her thoughts—'<i>I was +very foolish</i>——' she began and stopped.</p> + +<p>'Ma'am,' cried the maid, suddenly, 'I'll venture to say I +know who did it.' 'Who?' said every one, eagerly. 'Who?' +said Bell, trembling. 'Why, miss, don't you recollect that +little girl with the lace, that we saw peeping about in the +passage? I'm sure she must have done it; for here she was +by herself half an hour or more, and not another creature has +been in mistress's dressing-room, to my certain knowledge, +since morning. Those sort of people have so much curiosity. +I'm sure she must have been meddling with it,' added the +maid.</p> + +<p>'Oh yes, that's the thing,' said the mistress, decidedly. +'Well, Miss Rosamond, for your comfort she shall never come +into my house again.' 'Oh, that would not comfort me at +all,' said Rosamond; 'besides, we are not sure that she did it, +and if——' A single knock at the door was heard at this +instant. It was the little girl, who came to be paid for her +lace. 'Call her in,' said the lady of the house; 'let us see her +directly.'</p> + +<p>The maid, who was afraid that the girl's innocence would +appear if she were produced, hesitated; but upon her mistress +repeating her commands, she was forced to obey. The girl +came in with a look of simplicity; but when she saw a room +full of company she was a little abashed. Rosamond and +Laura looked at her and one another with surprise, for it was +the same little girl whom they had seen weaving lace. 'Is +not it she?' whispered Rosamond to her sister. 'Yes, it is; +but hush,' said Laura, 'she does not know us. Don't say a +word, let us hear what she will say.'</p> + +<p>Laura got behind the rest of the company as she spoke, so +that the little girl could not see her.<span class="pagenum">[166]</span></p> + +<p>'Vastly well!' said Bell's mother; 'I am waiting to see +how long you will have the assurance to stand there with that +innocent look. Did you ever see that basket before?' 'Yes, +ma'am,' said the girl. '<i>Yes, ma'am!</i>' cried the maid; 'and +what else do you know about it? You had better confess it at +once, and mistress, perhaps, will say no more about it.' 'Yes, +do confess it,' added Bell, earnestly. 'Confess what, madam?' +said the little girl; 'I never touched the basket, madam.' +'You never <i>touched</i> it; but you confess,' interrupted Bell's +mother, 'that you <i>did see</i> it before. And, pray, how came you +to see it? You must have opened my wardrobe.' 'No, indeed, +ma'am,' said the little girl; 'but I was waiting in the passage, +ma'am, and this door was partly open; and looking at the +maid, you know, I could not help seeing it.' 'Why, how +could you see through the doors of my wardrobe?' rejoined +the lady.</p> + +<p>The maid, frightened, pulled the little girl by the sleeve.</p> + +<p>'Answer me,' said the lady, 'where did you see this +basket?' Another stronger pull. 'I saw it, madam, in her +hands,' looking at the maid; 'and——' 'Well, and what became +of it afterwards?' 'Ma'am'—hesitating—'miss pulled, +and by accident—I believe, I saw, ma'am—miss, you know what +I saw.' 'I do not know—I do not know; and if I did, you had +no business there; and mamma won't believe you, I am sure.' +Everybody else, however, did believe; and their eyes were +fixed upon Bell in a manner which made her feel rather ashamed. +'What do you all look at me so for? Why do you all look +so? And am I to be put to shame on my birthday?' cried +she, bursting into a roar of passion; 'and all for this nasty +thing!' added she, pushing away the remains of the basket, +and looking angrily at Rosamond. 'Bell! Bell! oh, fie! fie!—Now +I <i>am</i> ashamed of you; that's quite rude to your cousin,' +said her mother, who was more shocked at her daughter's want +of politeness than at her falsehood. 'Take her away, Nancy, +till she has done crying,' added she to the maid, who accordingly +carried off her pupil.</p> + +<p>Rosamond, during this scene, especially at the moment when +her present was pushed away with such disdain, had been +making reflections upon the nature of true generosity. A smile +from her father, who stood by, a silent spectator of the catastrophe +of the filigree basket, gave rise to these reflections; nor<span class="pagenum">[167]</span> +were they entirely dissipated by the condolence of the rest of +the company, nor even by the praises of her godmother, who, +for the purpose of condoling with her, said, 'Well, my dear +Rosamond, I admire your generous spirit. You know I +prophesied that your half-guinea would be gone the soonest. +Did I not, Laura?' said she, appealing, in a sarcastic tone, to +where she thought Laura was. 'Where is Laura? I don't +see her.' Laura came forward. 'You are too <i>prudent</i> to +throw away your money like your sister. Your half-guinea, I'll +answer for it, is snug in your pocket—is it not?' 'No, +madam,' answered she, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>But low as the voice of Laura was, the poor little lace-girl +heard it; and now, for the first time, fixing her eyes upon +Laura, recollected her benefactress. 'Oh, that's the young +lady!' she exclaimed, in a tone of joyful gratitude, 'the good, +good young lady who gave me the half-guinea, and would not +stay to be thanked for it; but I <i>will</i> thank her now.'</p> + +<p>'The half-guinea, Laura!' said her godmother. 'What is +all this?' 'I'll tell you, madam, if you please,' said the little +girl.</p> + +<p>It was not in expectation of being praised for it that Laura +had been generous, and therefore everybody was really touched +with the history of the weaving-pillow; and whilst they praised, +felt a certain degree of respect, which is not always felt by those +who pour forth eulogiums. <i>Respect</i> is not an improper word, +even applied to a child of Laura's age; for let the age or situation +of the person be what it may, they command respect who +deserve it.</p> + +<p>'Ah, madam!' said Rosamond to her godmother, 'now +you see—you see she is <i>not</i> a little miser. I'm sure that's +better than wasting half a guinea upon a filigree basket; +is it not, ma'am?' said she, with an eagerness which showed +that she had forgotten all her own misfortunes in sympathy +with her sister. 'This is being <i>really generous</i>, father, is +it not?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, Rosamond,' said her father, and he kissed her; 'this +<i>is</i> being really generous. It is not only by giving away money +that we can show generosity; it is by giving up to others anything +that we like ourselves; and therefore,' added he, smiling, +'it is really generous of you to give your sister the thing you +like best of all others.'<span class="pagenum">[168]</span></p> + +<p>'The thing I like the best of all others, father,' said Rosamond, +half pleased, half vexed. 'What is that, I wonder? +You don't mean <i>praise</i>, do you, sir?' 'Nay, you must decide +that yourself, Rosamond.' 'Why, sir,' said she, ingenuously, +'perhaps it <i>was</i> <span class="smcap">once</span> the thing I liked best; but the pleasure +I have just felt makes me like something else much better.'</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[169]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="ETON_MONTEM" id="ETON_MONTEM"></a>ETON MONTEM</h2> + +<h4>[<i>Extracted from the 'Courier' of May 1799.</i>]</h4> + +<p class="noin">'<span class="smcap">Yesterday</span> this triennial ceremony took place, with which the public +are too well acquainted to require a particular description. A collection, +called <i>Salt</i>, is taken from the public, which forms a purse, to +support the Captain of the School in his studies at Cambridge. This +collection is made by the Scholars, dressed in fancy dresses, all round +the country.</p> + +<p>'At eleven o'clock, the youths being assembled in their habiliments +at the College, the Royal Family set off from the Castle to see them, +and, after walking round the Courtyard, they proceeded to Salt Hill +in the following order:—</p> + +<p>'His Majesty, his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, and the +Earl of Uxbridge.</p> + +<p>'Their Royal Highnesses the Dukes of Kent and Cumberland, Earl +Morton, and General Gwynne, all on horseback, dressed in the +Windsor uniform, except the Prince of Wales, who wore a suit of dark +blue, and a brown surtout over.</p> + +<p>'Then followed the Scholars, preceded by the Marechal Serjeant, +the Musicians of the Staffordshire Band, and Mr. Ford, Captain of +the Seminary, the Serjeant-Major, Serjeants, Colonels, Corporals, +Musicians, Ensign, Lieutenant, Steward, Salt-Bearers, Polemen, and +Runners.</p> + +<p>'The cavalcade was brought up by Her Majesty and her amiable +daughters in two carriages, and a numerous company of equestrians +and pedestrians, all eager to behold their Sovereign and his family. +Among the former, Lady Lade was foremost in the throng; only two +others dared venture their persons on horseback in such a multitude.</p> + +<p>'The King and Royal Family were stopped on Eton Bridge by +Messrs. Young and Mansfield, the Salt-Bearers, to whom their +Majesties delivered their customary donation of fifty guineas each.</p> + +<p>'At Salt Hill, His Majesty, with his usual affability, took upon himself +to arrange the procession round the Royal carriages; and even +when the horses were taken off, with the assistance of the Duke of<span class="pagenum">[170]</span> +Kent, fastened the traces round the pole of the coaches, to prevent any +inconvenience.</p> + +<p>'An exceeding heavy shower of rain coming on, the Prince took +leave, and went to the "Windmill Inn" till it subsided. The King +and his attendants weathered it out in their greatcoats.</p> + +<p>'After the young gentlemen walked round the carriage, Ensign +Vince and the Salt-Bearers proceeded to the summit of the hill; but +the wind being boisterous, he could not exhibit his dexterity in displaying +his flag, and the space being too small before the carriages, from +the concourse of spectators, the King kindly acquiesced in not having +it displayed under such inconvenience.</p> + +<p>'Their Majesties and the Princesses then returned home, the King +occasionally stopping to converse with the Dean of Windsor, the Earl +of Harrington, and other noblemen.</p> + +<p>'The Scholars partook of an elegant dinner at the "Windmill Inn," +and in the evening walked on Windsor Terrace.</p> + +<p>'Their Royal Highnesses the Prince of Wales and Duke of Cumberland, +after taking leave of their Majesties, set off for town, and +honoured the Opera House with their presence in the evening.</p> + +<p>'The profit arising from the Salt collected, according to account, +amounted to £800.</p> + +<p>'The Stadtholder, the Duke of Gordon, Lord and Lady Melbourne, +Viscount Brome, and a numerous train of fashionable nobility were +present.</p> + +<p>'The following is an account of their dresses, made as usual, very +handsomely, by Mrs. Snow, milliner, of Windsor:—</p> +<br /> +<p class="center">'Mr. Ford, Captain, with eight Gentlemen to attend him as servitors. +<br /> +'Mr. Sarjeant, Marechal. +<br /> +'Mr. Bradith, Colonel. +<br /> +'Mr. Plumtree, Lieutenant. +<br /> +'Mr. Vince, Ensign. +<br /> +'Mr. Young, College Salt-Bearer; white and gold dress, rich satin bag, +covered with gold netting. +<br /> +'Mr. Mansfield, Oppidin, white, purple, and orange dress, trimmed with +silver; rich satin bag, purple and silver: each carrying elegant poles, with gold and silver cord. +<br /> +'Mr. Keity, yellow and black velvet; helmet trimmed with silver. +<br /> +'Mr. Bartelot, plain mantle and sandals, Scotch bonnet, a very Douglas. +<br /> +'Mr. Knapp, flesh-colour and blue; Spanish hat and feathers. +<br /> +'Mr. Ripley, rose-colour; helmet. +<br /> +'Mr. Islip (being in mourning), a scarf; helmet, black velvet; and white satin. +<br /> +'Mr. Tomkins, violet and silver; helmet. +<br /> +'Mr. Thackery, lilac and silver; Roman cap. +<br /> +<span class="pagenum">[171]</span> +'Mr. Drury, mazarin blue; fancy cap. +<br /> +'Mr. Davis, slate-colour and straw. +<br /> +'Mr. Routh, pink and silver; Spanish hat. +<br /> +'Mr. Curtis, purple; fancy cap. +<br /> +'Mr. Lloyd, blue; ditto. +</p> + +<br /> + +<p>'At the conclusion of the ceremony the Royal Family returned to +Windsor, and the boys were all sumptuously entertained at the tavern +at Salt Hill. About six in the evening all the boys returned in the +order of procession, and, marching round the great square of Eton, +were dismissed. The Captain then paid his respects to the Royal +Family, at the Queen's Lodge, Windsor, previously to his departure +for King's College, Cambridge, to defray which expense the produce +of the Montem was presented to him.</p> + +<p>'The day concluded by a brilliant promenade of beauty, rank, and +fashion on Windsor Terrace, enlivened by the performance of several +bands of music.</p> + +<p>'The origin of the procession is from the custom by which the +Manor was held.</p> + +<p>'The custom of hunting the Ram belonged to Eton College, as well +as the custom of Salt; but it was discontinued by Dr. Cook, late Dean +of Ely. Now this custom we know to have been entered on the +register of the Royal Abbey of Bee, in Normandy, as one belonging +to the Manor of East or Great Wrotham, in Norfolk, given by Ralph +de Toni to the Abbey of Bee, and was as follows:—When the harvest +was finished, the tenants were to have half an acre of barley, and a +ram let loose; and if they caught him he was their own to make merry +with, but if he escaped from them he was the Lord's. The Etonians, +in order to secure the ram, houghed him in the Irish fashion, and then +attacked him with great clubs. The cruelty of this proceeding brought +it into disuse, and now it exists no longer.—<i>See Register of the Royal +Abbey of Bee</i>, folio 58.</p> + +<p>'After the dissolution of the alien priories, in 1414, by the +Parliament of Leicester, they remained in the Crown till Henry VI., +who gave Wrotham Manor to Eton College; and if the Eton Fellows +would search, they would perhaps find the Manor in their possession, +that was held by the custom of Salt.'</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Men</span></p> + +<p class="noin">Alderman Bursal, Father of young Bursal.</p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Men in the Play"> +<tr><td align='left'>Lord John,</td><td align='left'> } </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Talbot,</td><td align='left'> } </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Wheeler,</td><td align='left' > } Young Gentlemen of Eton, from 17 to 19 years of age.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bursal,</td><td align='left'> } </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Rory O'Ryan</td><td align='left'> } </td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p class="noin">Mr. Newington, Landlord of the Inn at Salt Hill.<br /> +Farmer Hearty.<br /> +A Waiter and crowd of Eton Lads.<br /> +<span class="pagenum">[172]</span> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Women</span></p> + +<p class="noin"> +The Marchioness of Piercefield, Mother of Lord John.<br /> +Lady Violetta—her Daughter, a Child of six or seven years old.<br /> +Mrs. Talbot.<br /> +Louisa Talbot, her Daughter.<br /> +Miss Bursal, Daughter to the Alderman.<br /> +Mrs. Newington, Landlady of the Inn at Salt Hill.<br /> +Sally, a Chambermaid.<br /> +Patty, a Country Girl.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">Pipe and Tabor, and Dance of Peasants.</p> + +<h3>ACT THE FIRST</h3> + +<h4>SCENE I</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>The Bar of the 'Windmill Inn' at Salt Hill</i></p> +<br /> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mr.</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Newington</span>, <i>the Landlord and Landlady</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> 'Tis an unpossibility, Mr. Newington; and that's +enough. Say no more about it; 'tis an unpossibility in the +<i>natur</i> of things. (<i>She ranges jellies, etc., in the Bar.</i>) And +pray, do you take your great old-fashioned tankard, Mr. Newington, +from among my jellies and confectioneries.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord</i> (<i>takes his tankard and drinks</i>). Anything for a +quiet life. If it is an unpossibility, I've no more to say; only, +for the soul of me, I can't see the great unpossibility, wife.</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> Wife, indeed!—wife!—wife! wife every minute.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Heyday! Why, what a plague would you have +me call you? The other day you quarrelled with me for +calling you Mrs. Landlady.</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> To be sure I did, and very proper in me I +should. I've turned off three waiters and five chambermaids +already, for screaming after me <i>Mrs. Landlady!</i> <i>Mrs. Landlady!</i> +But 'tis all your ill manners.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Ill manners! Why, if I may be so bold, if you +are not Mrs. Landlady, in the name of wonder what are you?</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> Mrs. Newington, Mr. Newington.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord</i> (<i>drinks</i>). Mrs. Newington, Mr. Newington drinks +your health; for I suppose I must not be landlord any more +in my own house (<i>shrugs</i>).<span class="pagenum">[173]</span></p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> Oh, as to that, I have no objections nor impediments +to your being called <i>Landlord</i>. You look it, and +become it very proper.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Why, yes, indeed, thank my tankard, I do look +it, and become it, and am nowise ashamed of it; but every +one to their mind, as you, wife, don't fancy the being called +Mrs. Landlady.</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> To be sure I don't. Why, when folks hear the +old-fashioned cry of Mrs. Landlady! Mrs. Landlady! who do +they expect, think you, to see, but an overgrown, fat, featherbed +of a woman coming waddling along with her thumbs +sticking on each side of her apron, o' this fashion? Now, to +see me coming, nobody would take me to be a landlady.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Very true, indeed, wife—Mrs. Newington, I +mean—I ask pardon; but now to go on with what we were +saying about the unpossibility of letting that old lady and the +civil-spoken young lady there above have them there rooms +for another day.</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> Now, Mr. Newington, let me hear no more +about that old gentlewoman and that civil-spoken young lady. +Fair words cost nothing; and I've a notion that's the cause +they are so plenty with the young lady. Neither o' them, I +take it, by what they've ordered since their coming into the +house, are such grand folk that one need be so <i>petticular</i> +about them.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Why, they came only in a chaise and pair, to be +sure; I can't deny that.</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> But, bless my stars! what signifies talking? +Don't you know, as well as I do, Mr. Newington, that to-morrow +is Eton Montem, and that if we had twenty times as +many rooms and as many more to the back of them, it would +not be one too many for all the company we've a right to +expect, and those the highest quality of the land? Nay, what +do I talk of to-morrow? isn't my Lady Piercefield and suite +expected? and, moreover, Mr. and Miss Bursal's to be here, +and will call for as much in an hour as your civil-spoken young +lady in a twelvemonth, I reckon. So, Mr. Newington, if you +don't think proper to go up and inform the ladies above that +the Dolphin rooms are not for them, I must <i>speak</i> myself, +though 'tis a thing I never do when I can help it.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord</i> (<i>aside</i>). She not like to speak! (<i>Aloud.</i>) My +<span class="pagenum">[174]</span> +dear, you can speak a power better than I can; so take it all +upon yourself, if you please; for, old-fashioned as I and my +tankard here be, I can't make a speech that borders on the +uncivil order, to a lady like, for the life and lungs of me. So, +in the name of goodness, do you go up, Mrs. Newington.</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> And so I will, Mr. Newington. Help ye! +Civilities and rarities are out o' season for them that can't pay +for them in this world; and very proper.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit Landlady.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> And very proper! Ha! who comes yonder? +The Eton chap who wheedled me into lending him my best +hunter last year, and was the ruination of him; but that must +be paid for, wheedle or no wheedle; and, for the matter of +wheedling, I'd stake this here Mr. Wheeler, that is making up +to me, do you see, against e'er a boy, or hobbledehoy, in all +Eton, London, or Christendom, let the other be who he will.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Wheeler.</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Wheeler.</i> A fine day, Mr. Newington.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> A fine day, Mr. Wheeler.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> And I hope, for <i>your</i> sake, we may have as fine a +day for the Montem to-morrow. It will be a pretty penny in +your pocket! Why, all the world will be here; and (<i>looking +round at the jellies</i>, <i>etc.</i>) so much the better for them; for here +are good things enough, and enough for them. And here's +the best thing of all, the good old tankard still; not empty, I +hope.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Not empty, I hope. Here's to you, Mr. +Wheeler.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> <i>Mr.</i> Wheeler!—<i>Captain</i> Wheeler, if you please.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> <i>You</i>, Captain Wheeler!—Why, I thought in +former times it was always the oldest scholar at Eton that was +Captain at the Montems; and didn't Mr. Talbot come afore +you?</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Not at all; we came on the same day. Some say +I came first; some say Talbot. So the choice of which of us +is to be captain is to be put to the vote amongst the lads—most +votes carry it; and I have most votes, I fancy; so I +shall be captain, to-morrow, and a pretty deal of <i>salt</i><a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> I reckon +I shall pocket. Why, the collection at the last Montem, they +<span class="pagenum">[175]</span>say, came to a plump thousand! No bad thing for a young +fellow to set out with for Oxford or Cambridge—hey?</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> And no bad thing, before he sets out for Cambridge +or Oxford, 'twould be for a young gentleman to pay his +debts.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Debts! Oh, time enough for that. I've a little +account with you in horses, I know; but that's between you +and me, you know—mum.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Mum me no mums, Mr. Wheeler. Between you +and me, my best hunter has been ruinationed; and I can't +afford to be mum. So you'll take no offence if I speak; and +as you'll set off to-morrow, as soon as the Montem's over, +you'll be pleased to settle with me some way or other to-day, +as we've no other time.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> No time so proper, certainly. Where's the little +account?—I have money sent me for my Montem dress, and +I can squeeze that much out of it. I came home from Eton +on purpose to settle with you. But as to the hunter, you +must call upon Talbot—do you understand? to pay for him; +for though Talbot and I had him the same day, 'twas Talbot +did for him, and Talbot must pay. I spoke to him about it, +and charged him to remember you; for I never forget to speak +a good word for my friends.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> So I perceive.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> I'll make bold just to give you my opinion of these +jellies whilst you are getting my account, Mr. Newington.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>He swallows down a jelly or two—Landlord is going.</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Talbot.</span><br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Talbot.</i> Hallo, Landlord! where are you making off so fast? +Here, your jellies are all going as fast as yourself.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> (<i>aside</i>). Talbot!—I wish I was a hundred miles off.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> You are heartily welcome, Mr. Talbot. A good +morning to you, sir; I'm glad to see you—very glad to see +you, Mr. Talbot.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Then shake hands, my honest landlord.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Talbot, in shaking hands with him, puts a purse into +the Landlord's hands.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> What's here? Guineas?</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> The hunter, you know; since Wheeler won't pay, I +must—that's all. Good morning.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> (<i>aside.</i>) What a fool!</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>Landlord, as Talbot is going catches hold of his coat.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i016f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i016t.jpg" alt="i016t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption">'<i>Then shake hands, my honest landlord.</i>'</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[177]</span><i>Landlord.</i> Hold, Mr. Talbot, this won't do!</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Won't it? Well, then, my watch must go.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Nay, nay! but you are in such a hurry to pay—you +won't hear a man. Half this is enough for your share o' +the mischief, in all conscience. Mr. Wheeler, there, had the +horse on the same day.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> But Bursal's my witness——</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Oh, say no more about witnesses; a man's conscience +is always his best witness, or his worst. Landlord, take your +money, and no more words.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> This is very genteel of you, Talbot. I always +thought you would do the genteel thing, as I knew you to be so +generous and considerate.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Don't waste your fine speeches, Wheeler, I advise +you, this election time. Keep them for Bursal or Lord John, +or some of those who like them. They won't go down with +<i>me</i>. Good morning to you. I give you notice, I'm going +back to Eton as fast as I can gallop; and who knows what +plain speaking may do with the Eton lads? I may be captain +yet, Wheeler. Have a care! Is my horse ready there?</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Mr. Talbot's horse, there! Mr. Talbot's horse, +I say.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Talbot sings.</i></p> + +<div class="inset" style="width:32em"> +<p class="noin">He carries weight—he rides a race—<br /> +'Tis for a thousand pound! +</p> +</div> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit Talbot.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> And, dear me! I shall be left behind. A horse for +me, pray; a horse for Mr. Wheeler!</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit Wheeler.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Landlord</i> (<i>calls very loud</i>). Mr. Talbot's horse! Hang the +hostler! I'll saddle him myself.<span class="pagenum">[178]</span></p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit Landlord.</i>)</p> + +<h4>SCENE II</h4> + + +<p class="center"><i>A Dining-room in the Inn at Salt Hill</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Talbot</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Louisa</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Louisa</i> (<i>laughing</i>). With what an air Mrs. Landlady made +her exit!</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talbot.</i> When I was young, they say, I was proud; +but I am humble enough now: these petty mortifications do +not vex me.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> It is well my brother was gone before Mrs. Landlady +made her <i>entrée</i>; for if he had heard her rude speech, he would +at least have given her the retort courteous.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> Now tell me honestly, my Louisa——You were, +a few days ago, at Bursal House. Since you have left it and +have felt something of the difference that is made in this world +between splendour and no splendour, you have never regretted +that you did not stay there, and that you did not bear more +patiently with Miss Bursal's little airs?</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> Never for a moment. At first Miss Bursal paid +me a vast deal of attention; but, for what reason I know not, +she suddenly changed her manner, grew first strangely cold, +then condescendingly familiar, and at last downright rude. I +could not guess the cause of these variations.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> (<i>aside</i>). I guess the cause too well.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> But as I perceived the lady was out of tune, I was +in haste to leave her. I should make a very bad, and, I am +sure, a miserable toad eater. I had much rather, if I were +obliged to choose, earn my own bread, than live as toad eater +with anybody.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> Fine talking, dear Louisa!</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> Don't you believe me to be in earnest, mother? +To be sure, you cannot know what I would do, unless I were +put to the trial.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> Nor you either, my dear.</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>She sighs, and is silent.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<p><i>Louisa</i> (<i>takes her mother's hand</i>). What is the matter, dear +mother? You used to say that seeing my brother always<span class="pagenum">[179]</span> +made you feel ten years younger; yet even while he was here, +you had, in spite of all your efforts to conceal them, those +sudden fits of sadness.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> The Montem—is not it to-morrow? Ay, but +my boy is not sure of being captain.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> No; there is one Wheeler, who, as he says, is most +likely to be chosen captain. He has taken prodigious pains +to flatter and win over many to his interest. My brother does +not so much care about it; he is not avaricious.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> I love your generous spirit and his! but, alas! +my dear, people may live to want, and wish for money, without +being avaricious. I would not say a word to Talbot; full of +spirits as he was this morning, I would not say a word to him, +till after the Montem, of what has happened.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> And what has happened, dear mother? Sit down,—you +tremble.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> (<i>sits down and puts a letter into Louisa's hand</i>). +Read that, love. A messenger brought me that from town a +few hours ago.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa</i> (<i>reads</i>). 'By an express from Portsmouth, we hear +the <i>Bombay Castle</i> East Indiaman is lost, with all your fortune +on board.' <i>All!</i> I hope there is something left for you to +live upon.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> About £150 a year for us all.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> That is enough, is it not, for you?</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> For me, love? I am an old woman, and want +but little in this world, and shall be soon out of it.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa</i> (<i>kneels down beside her</i>). Do not speak so, dearest +mother.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> Enough for me, love! Yes, enough, and too +much for me. I am not thinking of myself.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> Then, as to my brother, he has such abilities, and +such industry, he will make a fortune at the bar for himself, +most certainly.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> But his education is not completed. How shall +we provide him with money at Cambridge?</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> This Montem. The last time the captain had eight +hundred, the time before a thousand, pounds. Oh, I hope—I +fear! Now, indeed, I know that, without being avaricious, we +may want, and wish for money.</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>Landlady's voice heard behind the scenes.</i>)<br /> +<span class="pagenum">[180]</span></p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> Waiter!—Miss Bursal's curricle, and Mr. +Bursal's <i>vis-à-vis</i>. Run! see that the Dolphin's empty. I +say run!—run!</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> I will rest for a few moments upon the sofa, in +this bedchamber, before we set off.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa</i> (<i>goes to open the door</i>). They have bolted or locked +it. How unlucky!</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>She turns the key, and tries to unlock the door.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Waiter.</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Waiter.</i> Ladies, I'm sorry—Miss Bursal and Mr. Bursal +are come—just coming upstairs.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> Then, will you be so good, sir, as to unlock +this door?</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Waiter tries to unlock the door.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Waiter.</i> It must be bolted on the inside. Chambermaid! +Sally! Are you within there? Unbolt this door.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Bursal's voice behind the scenes.</i> Let me have a basin +of good soup directly.</p> + +<p><i>Waiter.</i> I'll go round and have the door unbolted immediately, +ladies.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit Waiter.</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Miss Bursal,</span> <i>in a riding dress, and with a long whip.</i><br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Miss Bursal.</i> Those creatures, the ponies, have a'most +pulled my '<i>and</i> off. Who <i>'ave</i> we <i>'ere</i>? Ha! Mrs. Talbot! +Louisa, <i>'ow</i> are ye? I'm so vastly glad to see you; but I'm +so shocked to <i>'ear</i> of the loss of the <i>Bombay Castle</i>. Mrs. +Talbot, you look but poorly; but this Montem will put everybody +in spirits. I <i>'ear</i> everybody's to be <i>'ere</i>; and my brother +tells me, 'twill be the finest ever seen at <i>H</i>Eton. Louisa, my +dear, I'm sorry I've not a seat for you in my curricle for to-morrow; +but I've promised Lady Betty; so, you know, 'tis +impossible for me.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> Certainly; and it would be impossible for me to +leave my mother at present.</p> + +<p><i>Chambermaid</i> (<i>opens the bedchamber door</i>). The room's ready +now, ladies.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> Miss Bursal, we intrude upon you no longer.</p> + +<p><i>Miss Burs.</i> Nay, why do you decamp, Mrs. Talbot? I <i>'ad</i> +a thousand things to say to you, Louisa; but am so tired and +so annoyed——<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Seats herself. Exeunt Mrs. Talbot, Louisa, and Chambermaid.</i>)</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i017f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i017t.jpg" alt="i017t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>Enter Miss Bursal, in a riding dress.</i></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[182]</span></p> +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Bursal,</span> <i>with a basin of soup in his hand.</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Mr. Burs.</i> Well, thank my stars the <i>Airly Castle</i> is safe +in the Downs.</p> + +<p><i>Miss Burs.</i> Mr. Bursal, can you inform me why Joe, my +groom, does not make his appearance?</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Burs.</i> (<i>eating and speaking</i>). Yes, that I can, child; +because he is with his <i>'orses</i>, where he ought to be. 'Tis fit +they should be looked after well; for they cost me a pretty +penny—more than their heads are worth, and yours into the +bargain; but I was resolved, as we were to come to this +Montem, to come in style.</p> + +<p><i>Miss Burs.</i> In style, to be sure; for all the world's to be +here—the King, the Prince of W<i>h</i>ales, and Duke o' York, and +all the first people; and we shall cut a dash! Dash! dash! +will be the word to-morrow!—(<i>playing with her whip</i>).</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Burs.</i> (<i>aside</i>). Dash! dash! ay, just like her brother. +He'll pay away finely, I warrant, by the time he's her age. +Well, well, he can afford it; and I do love to see my children +make a figure for their money. As Jack Bursal says, what's +money for, if it e'nt to make a figure? (<i>Aloud.</i>) There's your +brother Jack, now. The extravagant dog! he'll have such a +dress as never was seen, I suppose, at this here Montem. +Why, now, Jack Bursal spends more money at Eton, and has +more to spend, than my Lord John, though my Lord John's +the son of a marchioness.</p> + +<p><i>Miss Burs.</i> Oh, that makes no difference nowadays. I +wonder whether her ladyship is to be at this Montem. The +only good I ever got out of these stupid Talbots was an introduction +to their friend Lady Piercefield. What she could find +to like in the Talbots, heaven knows. I've a notion she'll drop +them, when she hears of the loss of the <i>Bombay Castle</i>.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter a</i> <span class="smcap">Waiter,</span> <i>with a note.</i><br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Waiter.</i> A note from my Lady Piercefield, sir.</p> + +<p><i>Miss B.</i> Charming woman! Is she here, pray, sir?</p> + +<p><i>Waiter.</i> Just come. Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit Waiter.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Miss B.</i> Well, Mr. Bursal, what is it?</p> + +<p><i>Mr. B.</i> (<i>reads</i>). 'Business of importance to communicate——' +Hum! what can it be?—(<i>going</i>).</p> + +<p><i>Miss B.</i> (<i>aside</i>). Perhaps some match to propose for me!<span class="pagenum">[183]</span> +(<i>Aloud.</i>) Mr. Bursal, pray before you go to her ladyship, do +send my <i>ooman</i> to me to make me <i>presentable</i>.</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>Exit Miss Bursal at one door.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<p><i>Mr. B.</i> (<i>at the opposite door</i>). 'Business of importance!' +Hum! I'm glad I'm prepared with a good basin of soup. +There's no doing business well upon an empty stomach. +Perhaps the business is to lend cash; and I've no great stomach +for that. But it will be an honour, to be sure.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit.</i>)</p> + +<h4>SCENE III</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Landlady's Parlour</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Landlady</i>—Mr. <span class="smcap">Finsbury,</span> <i>a man-milliner, with bandboxes—a +fancy cap, or helmet, with feathers, in the Landlady's +hand—a satin bag, covered with gold netting, in the man-milliner's +hand—a mantle hanging over his arm. A +rough-looking Farmer is sitting with his back towards +them, eating bread and cheese, and reading a newspaper.</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> Well, this, to be sure, will be the best-dressed +Montem that ever was seen at Eton; and you Lon'on gentlemen +have the most fashionablest notions; and this is the most +elegantest fancy cap——</p> + +<p><i>Finsbury.</i> Why, as you observe, ma'm, that is the most +elegant fancy cap of them all. That is Mr. Hector Hogmorton's +fancy cap, ma'm; and here, ma'm, is Mr. Saul's rich +satin bag, covered with gold net. He is college salt-bearer, I +understand, and has a prodigious superb white and gold dress. +But, in my humble opinion, ma'm, the marshal's white and +purple and orange fancy-dress, trimmed with silver, will bear +the bell; though, indeed, I shouldn't say that,—for the colonel's +and lieutenant's, and ensign's, are beautiful in the extreme. +And, to be sure, nothing could be better imagined than Mr. +Marlborough's lilac and silver, with a Roman cap. And it +must be allowed that nothing in nature can have a better effect +than Mr. Drake's flesh-colour and blue, with this Spanish hat, +ma'm, you see.</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>The Farmer looks over his shoulder from time to time +during this speech, with contempt.</i>)<br /> +<span class="pagenum">[184]</span></p> + +<p><i>Farmer</i> (<i>reads the newspaper</i>). French fleet at sea—Hum!</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> O gemini: Mr. Drake's Spanish hat is the +sweetest, tastiest thing! Mr. Finsbury, I protest——</p> + +<p><i>Finsb.</i> Why, <i>ma'm</i>, I knew a lady of your taste couldn't but +approve of it. My own invention entirely, ma'm. But it's +nothing to the captain's cap, ma'm. Indeed, ma'm, Mr. +Wheeler, the captain that is to be, has the prettiest taste in +dress. To be sure, his sandals were my suggestion; but the +mantle he has the entire credit of, to do him justice; and when +you see it, ma'm, you will be really surprised; for (for contrast +and elegance, and richness, and lightness, and propriety, and +effect, and costume) you've never yet seen anything at all to be +compared to Captain Wheeler's mantle, ma'm.</p> + +<p><i>Farmer</i> (<i>to the Landlady</i>). Why, now, pray, Mrs. Landlady, +how long may it have been the fashion for milliners to go about +in men's clothes?</p> + +<p><i>Landlady</i> (<i>aside to Farmer</i>). Lord, Mr. Hearty, hush! +This is Mr. Finsbury, the great man-milliner.</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> The great man-milliner! This is a sight I never +thought to see in Old England.</p> + +<p><i>Finsb.</i> (<i>packing up bandboxes</i>). Well, ma'm, I'm glad I +have your approbation. It has ever been my study to please +the ladies.</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> (<i>throws a fancy mantle over his frieze coat</i>). And +is this the way to please the ladies, Mrs. Landlady, nowadays?</p> + +<p><i>Finsb.</i> (<i>taking off the mantle</i>). Sir, with your leave—I ask +pardon—but the least thing detriments these tender colours; +and as you have just been eating cheese with your hands——</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> 'Tis my way to eat cheese with my mouth, man.</p> + +<p><i>Finsb.</i> <i>Man!</i></p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> I ask pardon—man-milliner, I mean.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Landlord.</span><br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Why, wife!</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> Wife!</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> I ask pardon—Mrs. Newington I mean. Do you +know who them ladies are that you have been and turned out of +the Dolphin?</p> + +<p><i>Landlady</i> (<i>alarmed</i>). Not I, indeed. Who are they, pray? +Why, if they are quality it's no fault of mine. It is their own +fault for coming, like scrubs, without four horses. Why, if<span class="pagenum">[185]</span> +quality will travel the road this way, incognito, how can they +expect to be known and treated as quality? 'Tis no fault of +mine. Why didn't you find out sooner who they were, Mr. +Newington? What else in the 'versal world have you to do, +but to go basking about in the yards and places with your +tankard in your hand, from morning till night? What have you +else to ruminate, all day long, but to find out who's who, I +say?</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> Clapper! clapper! clapper! like my mill in a high +wind, landlord. Clapper! clapper! clapper!—enough to stun +a body.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> That is not used to it; but use is all, they say.</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> Will you answer me, Mr. Newington? Who are +the grandees that were in the Dolphin?—and what's become <i>on</i> +them?</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Grandees was your own word, wife. They be not +to call grandees; but I reckon you'd be sorry not to treat 'em +civil, when I tell you their name is Talbot, mother and sister +to our young Talbot of Eton; he that paid me so handsome +for the hunter this very morning.</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> Mercy! is that all? What a combustion for +nothing in life!</p> + +<p><i>Finsb.</i> For nothing in life, as you say, ma'm; that is, nothing +in high life, I'm sure, ma'm; nay, I dare a'most venture to +swear. Would you believe it, Mr. Talbot is one of the few +young gentlemen of Eton that has not bespoke from me a fancy-dress +for this grand Montem?</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> There, Mr. Newington; there's your Talbot for +you! and there's your grandees! Oh, trust me, I know your +scrubs at first sight.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Scrubs, I don't, nor can't, nor won't call them that +pay their debts honestly. Scrubs, I don't, nor won't, nor can't +call them that behave as handsome as young Mr. Talbot did +here to me this morning about the hunter. A scrub he is not, +wife. Fancy-dress or no fancy-dress, Mr. Finsbury, this young +gentleman is no scrub.</p> + +<p><i>Finsb.</i> Dear me! 'Twas not I said <i>scrub</i>. Did I say +scrub?</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> No matter if you did.</p> + +<p><i>Finsb.</i> No matter, certainly; and yet it is a matter; for I'm +confident I wouldn't for the world leave it in any one's power<span class="pagenum">[186]</span> +to say that I said—that I called—any young gentleman of Eton +a <i>scrub</i>! Why, you know, sir, it might breed a riot!</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> And a pretty figure you'd make in a riot!</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> Pray let me hear nothing about riots in my +house.</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> Nor about scrubs.</p> + +<p><i>Finsb.</i> But I beg leave to explain, gentlemen. All I +ventured to remark or suggest was, that as there was some talk +of Mr. Talbot's being captain to-morrow, I didn't conceive how +he could well appear without any dress. That was all, upon my +word and honour. A good morning to you, gentlemen; it is +time for me to be off. Mrs. Newington, you were so obliging +as to promise to accommodate me with a return chaise as far as +Eton.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Finsbury bows and exit.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> A good day to you and your bandboxes. There's a +fellow for you now! Ha! ha! ha!—A man-milliner, forsooth!</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> Mrs. Talbot's coming—stand back.</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> Lord! why does Bob show them through this +way?</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Talbot,</span> <i>leaning on</i> <span class="smcap">Louisa;</span> <i>Waiter showing the way.</i><br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> You are going on, I suppose, ma'am?</p> + +<p><i>Waiter</i> (<i>aside to Landlord</i>). Not if she could help it; but +there's no beds, since Mr. Bursal and Miss Bursal's come.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> I say nothing, for it is vain to say more. But isn't +it a pity she can't stay for the Montem, poor old lady! Her son—as +good and fine a lad as ever you saw—they say, has a chance, +too, of being captain. She may never live to see another such +a sight.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>As Mrs. Talbot walks slowly on, the Farmer puts +himself across her way, so as to stop her short.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> No offence, madam, I hope; but I have a good snug +farmhouse, not far off hand; and if so be you'd be so good to +take a night's lodging, you and the young lady with you, you'd +have a hearty welcome. That's all I can say; and you'd make +my wife very happy; for she's a good woman, to say nothing +of myself.</p> + +<p><i>Landlord.</i> If I may be so bold to put in my word, madam, +you'd have as good beds, and be as well lodged, with Farmer +Hearty, as in e'er a house at Salt Hill.<span class="pagenum">[187]</span></p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Talb.</i> I am very much obliged——</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> Oh, say nothing o' that, madam. I am sure I shall +be as much obliged if you do come. Do, miss, speak for me.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> Pray, dear mother——</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> She will. (<i>Calls behind the scenes.</i>) Here, waiter! +hostler! driver! what's your name? drive the chaise up here +to the door, smart, close. Lean on my arm, madam, and we'll +have you in and home in a whiff.</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>Exeunt Mrs. Talbot, Louisa, Farmer, Landlord, and Waiter.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<p><i>Landlady</i> (<i>sola</i>). What a noise and a rout this farmer +man makes! and my husband, with his great broad face, +bowing, as great a nincompoop as t'other. The folks are all +bewitched with the old woman, I verily believe. (<i>Aloud.</i>) +A good morning to you, ladies.</p> + +<h3>ACT THE SECOND</h3> + +<h4>SCENE I</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>A field near Eton College;—several boys crossing backwards +and forwards in the background. In front,</i> <span class="smcap">Talbot, +Wheeler, Lord John</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Bursal.</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Talbot.</i> Fair play, Wheeler! Have at 'em, my boy! +There they stand, fair game! There's Bursal there, with his +<i>dead</i> forty-five votes at command; and Lord John with his—how +many live friends?</p> + +<p><i>Lord John</i> (<i>coolly</i>). Sir, I have fifty-six friends, I believe.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Fifty-six friends, his lordship believes—Wheeler +inclusive no doubt.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> That's as hereafter may be.</p> + +<p><i>Wheeler.</i> Hereafter! Oh, fie, my <i>lud</i>! You know your +own Wheeler has, from the first minute he ever saw you, been +your fast friend.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Your fast friend from the first minute he ever saw +you, my lord! That's well hit, Wheeler; stick to that; stick +fast. Fifty-six friends, Wheeler <i>in</i>clusive, hey, my lord! hey, +my <i>lud</i>!<span class="pagenum">[188]</span></p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> Talbot <i>ex</i>clusive, I find, contrary to my expectations.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Ay, contrary to your expectations, you find that +Talbot is not a dog that will lick the dust: but then there's +enough of the true spaniel breed to be had for whistling for; +hey, Wheeler?</p> + +<p><i>Bursal</i> (<i>aside to Wheeler</i>). A pretty electioneerer. So +much the better for you, Wheeler. Why, unless he bought a +vote, he'd never win one, if he talked from this to the day of +judgment.</p> + +<p><i>Wheeler</i> (<i>aside to Bursal</i>). And as he has no money to +buy votes—he! he! he!—we are safe enough.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> That's well done, Wheeler; fight the by-battle there +with Bursal, now you are sure of the main with Lord John.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> Sure! I never made Mr. Wheeler any promise +yet.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Oh, I ask no promise from his lordship; we are +upon honour: I trust entirely to his lordship's good nature and +generosity, and to his regard for his own family; I having the +honour, though distantly, to be related.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> Related! How, Wheeler?</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Connected, I mean, which is next door, as I may +say, to being related. Related slipped out by mistake; I beg +pardon, my Lord John.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> Related!—a strange mistake, Wheeler.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Overshot yourself, Wheeler; overshot yourself, by all +that's awkward. And yet, till now, I always took you for '<i>a +dead-shot at a yellow-hammer</i>.'<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">9</a></p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> (<i>taking Bursal by the arm</i>). Bursal, a word with +you. (<i>Aside to Bursal.</i>) What a lump of family pride that +Lord John is.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Keep out of my hearing, Wheeler, lest I should spoil +sport. But never fear: you'll please Bursal sooner than I +shall. I can't, for the soul of me, bring myself to say that +Bursal's not purse-proud, and you can. Give you joy.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> A choice electioneerer!—ha! ha! ha!</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> (<i>faintly</i>). He! he! he!—a choice electioneerer, as +you say.</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>Exeunt Wheeler and Bursal; manent Lord J. and Talbot.</i>)<br /> +</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[189]</span></p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> There was a time, Talbot——</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> There was a time, my lord—to save trouble and a +long explanation—there was a time when you liked Talbots +better than spaniels; you understand me?</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> I have found it very difficult to understand you of +late, Mr. Talbot.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Yes, because you have used other people's understandings +instead of your own. Be yourself, my lord. See +with your own eyes, and hear with your own ears, and then +you'll find me still, what I've been these seven years; not your +under-strapper, your hanger-on, your flatterer, but your friend! +If you choose to have me for a friend, here's my hand. I am +your friend, and you'll not find a better.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> (<i>giving his hand</i>). You are a strange fellow, Talbot; +I thought I never could have forgiven you for what you said +last night.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> What? for I don't keep a register of my sayings. +Oh, it was something about gaming—Wheeler was flattering +your taste for it, and he put me into a passion—I forget what +I said. But, whatever it was, I'm sure it was well meant, and +I believe it was well said.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> But you laugh at me sometimes to my face.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Would you rather I should laugh at you behind your +back?</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> But of all things in the world I hate to be laughed +at. Listen to me, and don't fumble in your pockets while I'm +talking to you.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> I'm fumbling for—oh, here it is. Now, Lord John, I +once did laugh at you behind your back, and what's droll enough, +it was <i>at</i> your back I laughed. Here's a caricature I drew of +you—I really am sorry I did it; but 'tis best to show it to you +myself.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> (<i>aside</i>). It is all I can do to forgive this. (<i>After a +pause, he tears the paper.</i>) I have heard of this caricature +before; but I did not expect, Talbot, that you would come and +show it to me yourself, Talbot, so handsomely, especially at +such a time as this. Wheeler might well say you are a bad +electioneerer.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Oh, hang it! I forgot my election, and your fifty-six +friends.<span class="pagenum">[190]</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Rory O'Ryan.</span><br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Rory</i> (<i>claps Talbot on the back</i>). Fifty-six friends, have you, +Talbot? Say seven—fifty-seven, I mean; for I'll lay you a +wager, you've forgot me; and that's a shame for you, too; for +out of the whole posse-comitatus entirely now, you have not a +stauncher friend than poor little Rory O'Ryan. And a good +right he has to befriend you; for you stood by him when many +who ought to have known better were hunting him down for a +wild Irishman. Now that same wild Irishman has as much +gratitude in him as any tame Englishman of them all. But +don't let's be talking s<i>i</i>ntim<i>i</i>nt; for, for my share I'd not give +a bogberry a bushel for s<i>i</i>ntim<i>i</i>nt, when I could get anything +better.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> And pray, sir, what may a bogberry be?</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Phoo! don't be playing the innocent, now. Where +have you lived all your life (I ask pardon, my l<i>a</i>rd) not to know +a bogberry when you see or hear of it? (<i>Turns to Talbot.</i>) +But what are ye standing idling here for? Sure, there's +Wheeler, and Bursal along with him, canvassing out yonder +at a terrible fine rate. And haven't I been huzzaing for you +there till I'm hoarse? So I am, and just stepped away to +suck an orange for my voice—(<i>sucks an orange</i>). I am a +<i>thoroughgoing</i> friend, at any rate.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Now, Rory, you are the best fellow in the world, and +a <i>thoroughgoing</i> friend; but have a care, or you'll get yourself +and me into some scrape, before you have done with this +violent <i>thoroughgoing</i> work.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Never fear! never fear, man!—a warm <i>frind</i> and a +bitter enemy, that's my maxim.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Yes, but too warm a friend is as bad as a bitter +enemy.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Oh, never fear me! I'm as cool as a cucumber all +the time; and whilst they <i>tink</i> I'm <i>tinking</i> of nothing in life +but making a noise, I make my own snug little remarks in +prose and verse, as—now my voice is after coming back to +me, you shall hear, if you <i>plase</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> I do please.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> I call it Rory's song. Now, mind, I have a verse for +everybody—o' the leading lads, I mean; and I shall put 'em +in or <i>lave</i> 'em out, according to their inclinations and deserts,<span class="pagenum">[191]</span> +<i>wise-a-wee</i> to you, my little <i>frind</i>. So you comprehend it will +be Rory's song, with variations.</p> + +<p><i>Talbot and Lord John.</i> Let's have it; let's have it without +further preface.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Rory sings.</i><br /> +</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width:32em"> +<p class="noin"> +I'm true game to the last, and no <i>Wheeler</i> for me.<br /> +</p></div> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> There's a stroke, in the first place, for Wheeler,—you +take it?</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Oh yes, yes, we take it; go on.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Rory sings.</i><br /> +</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width:32em"> +<p class="noin"> +I'm true game to the last, and no Wheeler for me.<br /> +Of all birds, beasts, or fishes, that swim in the sea,<br /> +Webb'd or finn'd, black or white, man or child, Whig or Tory,<br /> +None but Talbot, O Talbot's the dog for Rory. +</p> +</div> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> 'Talbot the dog' is much obliged to you.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> But if I have any ear, one of your lines is a foot +too long, Mr. O'Ryan.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Phoo, put the best foot foremost for a <i>frind</i>. Slur it +in the singing, and don't be quarrelling, anyhow, for a foot +more or less. The more feet the better it will stand, you +know. Only let me go on, and you'll come to something that +will <i>plase</i> you.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Rory sings.</i> +</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width:32em"> +<p class="noin"> +Then there's he with the purse that's as long as my arm.<br /> +</p></div> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> That's Bursal, mind now, whom I mean to allude to +in this verse.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> If the allusion's good, we shall probably find out +your meaning.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> On with you, Rory, and don't read us notes on a +song.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> Go on, and let us hear what you say of Bursal.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Rory sings.</i><br /> +</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width:32em"> +<p class="noin"> +Then there's he with the purse that's as long as my arm;<br /> +His father's a tanner,—but then where's the harm?<br /> +Heir to houses, and hunters, and horseponds in fee,<br /> +Won't his skins sure soon buy him a pedigree? +<span class="pagenum">[192]</span> +</p> + +</div> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> Encore! encore! Why, Rory, I did not think +you could make so good a song.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Sure 'twas none of I made it—'twas Talbot here.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> I!</p> + +<p><i>Rory</i> (<i>aside</i>). Not a word: I'll make you a present of it: +sure, then, it's your own.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> I never wrote a word of it.</p> + +<p><i>Rory</i> (<i>to Lord J.</i>) Phoo, phoo! he's only denying it out +of false modesty.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> Well, no matter who wrote it,—sing it again.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Be easy; so I will, and as many more verses as you +will to the back of it. (<i>Winking at Talbot aside.</i>) You shall +have the credit of all. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Put me in when I'm out, +Talbot, and you (<i>to Lord John</i>) join—join.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Rory sings, and Lord John sings with him.</i><br /> +</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width:32em"> +<p class="noin"> +Then there's he with the purse that's as long as my arm;<br /> +His father's a tanner,—but then where's the harm?<br /> +Heir to houses, and hunters, and horseponds in fee,<br /> +Won't his skins sure soon buy him a pedigree?<br /> +There's my lord with the back that never was bent—— +</p> +</div> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>Lord John stops singing; Talbot makes signs to Rory to stop; but Rory does not see him, and sings on.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width:32em"> +<p class="noin"> +There's my lord with the back that never was bent;<br /> +Let him live with his ancestors, I am content. +</p> +</div> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>Rory pushes Lord J. and Talbot with his elbows.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Join, join, both of ye—why don't you join? (<i>Sings.</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<div class="inset" style="width:32em"> +<p class="noin"> +Who'll buy my Lord John? the arch fishwoman cried,<br /> +A nice oyster shut up in a choice shell of pride. +</p> +</div> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> But join or ye spoil all.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> You have spoiled all, indeed.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> (<i>making a formal low bow</i>). Mr. Talbot, Lord +John thanks you.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Lord John! blood and thunder! I forgot you were +by—quite and clean.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> (<i>puts him aside and continues speaking to Talbot</i>). +Lord John thanks you, Mr. Talbot: this is the second part of +the caricature. Lord John thanks you for these proofs of +friendship—Lord John has reason to thank you, Mr. Talbot.<span class="pagenum">[193]</span></p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> No reason in life now. Don't be thanking so much +for nothing in life; or if you must be thanking of somebody, +it's me you ought to thank.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> I ought and do, sir, for unmasking one who——</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> (<i>warmly</i>). Unmasking, my lord——</p> + +<p><i>Rory</i> (<i>holding them asunder</i>). Phoo! phoo! phoo! be +easy, can't ye?—there's no unmasking at all in the case. My +Lord John, Talbot's writing the song was all a mistake.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> As much a mistake as your singing it, sir, I presume——</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Just as much. 'Twas all a mistake. So now don't +you go and make a mistake into a misunderstanding. It was +I made every word of the song <i>out o' the face</i><a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">10</a>—that about +the back that never was bent, and the ancestors of the oyster, +and all. He did not waste a word of it; upon my conscience, +I wrote it all—though I'll engage you didn't think I could +write such a good thing. (<i>Lord John turns away.</i>) I'm telling +you the truth, and not a word of a lie, and yet you won't +believe me.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> You will excuse me, sir, if I cannot believe two +contradictory assertions within two minutes. Mr. Talbot, I +thank you (<i>going</i>).</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>Rory tries to stop Lord John from going, but cannot.—Exit Lord John.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Well, if he <i>will</i> go, let him go then, and much good +may it do him. Nay, but don't you go too.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> O Rory, what have you done?—(<i>Talbot runs after +Lord J.</i>) Hear me, my lord.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit Talbot.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Hear him! hear him! hear him!—Well, I'm point +blank mad with myself for making this blunder; but how +could I help it? As sure as ever I am meaning to do the +best thing on earth, it turns out the worst.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter a party of lads, huzzaing.</i><br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Rory</i> (<i>joins</i>). Huzza! huzza!—Who, pray, are ye huzzaing for?</p> + +<p><i>1st Boy.</i> Wheeler! Wheeler for ever! huzza!</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Talbot! Talbot for ever! huzza! Captain Talbot for +ever! huzza!</p> + +<p><i>2nd Boy.</i> <i>Captain</i> he'll never be,—at least not to-morrow; +for Lord John has just declared for Wheeler.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[194]</span></p> +<p><i>1st Boy.</i> And that turns the scale.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Oh, the scale may turn back again.</p> + +<p><i>3rd Boy.</i> Impossible! Lord John has just given his <i>promise</i> +to Wheeler. I heard him with my own ears.</p> + +<p>(<i>Several speak at once.</i>) And I heard him; and I! and +I! and I!—Huzza! Wheeler for ever!</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Oh, murder! murder! murder! (<i>Aside.</i>) This goes +to my heart! it's all my doing. O, my poor Talbot! murder! +murder! murder! But I won't let them see me cast down, +and it is good to be huzzaing at all events. Huzza for Talbot! +Talbot for ever! huzza!</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit.</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Wheeler</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Bursal.</span><br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Who was that huzzaing for Talbot?</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Rory behind the scenes</i>, 'Huzza for Talbot! Talbot for +ever! huzza!')</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Pooh, it is only Rory O'Ryan, or the roaring lion, as +I call him. Ha! ha! ha! Rory O'Ryan, <i>alias</i> O'Ryan, the +roaring lion; that's a good one; put it about—Rory O'Ryan, +the roaring lion, ha! ha! ha! but you don't take it—you +don't laugh, Wheeler.</p> + +<p><i>Wheeler.</i> Ha! ha! ha! Oh, upon my honour I do laugh; +ha! ha! ha! (<i>It is the hardest work to laugh at his wit—aside.</i>) +(<i>Aloud.</i>) Rory O'Ryan, the roaring lion—ha! ha! +ha! You know I always laugh, Bursal, at your jokes—he! +he! he!—ready to kill myself.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> (<i>sullenly</i>). You are easily killed, then, if that much +laughing will do the business.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> (<i>coughing</i>). Just then—something stuck in my +throat; I beg your pardon.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> (<i>still sullen</i>). Oh, you need not beg my pardon +about the matter; I don't care whether you laugh or no—not +I. Now you have got Lord John to declare for you, you are +above laughing at my jokes, I suppose.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> No, upon my word and honour, <i>I did</i> laugh.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> (<i>aside</i>). A fig for your word and honour. (<i>Aloud.</i>) +I know I'm of no consequence now; but you'll remember that, +if his lordship has the honour of making you captain, he must +have the honour to pay for your captain's accoutrements; for +I shan't pay the piper, I promise you, since I'm of no consequence.<span class="pagenum">[195]</span></p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Of no consequence! But, my dear Bursal, what +could put that into your head? that's the strangest, oddest +fancy. Of no consequence! Bursal, of no consequence! +Why, everybody that knows anything—everybody that has +seen Bursal House—knows that you are of the greatest consequence, +my dear Bursal.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> (<i>taking out his watch, and opening it, looks at it</i>). +No, I'm of no consequence. I wonder that rascal Finsbury is +not come yet with the dresses (<i>still looking at his watch</i>).</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> (<i>aside</i>). If Bursal takes it into his head not to lend +me the money to pay for my captain's dress, what will become +of me? for I have not a shilling—and Lord John won't pay for +me—and Finsbury has orders not to leave the house till he is +paid by everybody. What will become of me?—(<i>bites his +nails</i>).</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> (<i>aside</i>). How I love to make him bite his nails! +(<i>Aloud.</i>) I know I'm of no consequence. (<i>Strikes his +repeater.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> What a fine repeater that is of yours, Bursal! It +is the best I ever heard.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> So it well may be; for it cost a mint of money.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> No matter to you what anything costs. Happy +dog as you are! You roll in money; and yet you talk of +being of no consequence.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> But I am not of half so much consequence as Lord +John—am I?</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Are you? Why, aren't you twice as rich as he!</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Very true, but I'm not purse-proud.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> You purse-proud! I should never have thought of +such a thing.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Nor I, if Talbot had not used the word.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> But Talbot thinks everybody purse-proud that has a +purse.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> (<i>aside</i>). Well, this Wheeler does put one into a good +humour with one's self in spite of one's teeth. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Talbot +says blunt things; but I don't think he's what you can call +clever—hey, Wheeler?</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Clever! Oh, not he.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> I think I could walk round him.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> To be sure you could. Why, do you know, I've +<i>quizzed</i> him famously myself within this quarter of an hour?<span class="pagenum">[196]</span></p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Indeed! I wish I had been by.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> So do I, 'faith! It was the best thing. I wanted, +you see, to get him out of my way, that I might have the field +clear for electioneering to-day. So I bowls up to him with a +long face—such a face as this. 'Mr. Talbot, do you know—I'm +sorry to tell you, here's Jack Smith has just brought the news +from Salt Hill. Your mother, in getting into the carriage, +slipped, and has <i>broke</i> her leg, and there she's lying at a farmhouse, +two miles off. Is not it true, Jack?' said I. 'I saw the +farmer helping her in with my own eyes,' cries Jack. Off goes +Talbot like an arrow. '<i>Quizzed</i> him, <i>quizzed</i> him!' said I.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Ha! ha! ha! quizzed him indeed, with all his cleverness; +that was famously done.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Ha! ha! ha! With all his cleverness he will be all +the evening hunting for the farmhouse and the mother that has +<i>broke</i> her leg; so he is out of our way.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> But what need have you to want him out of your +way, now Lord John has come over to your side? You have +the thing at a dead beat.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Not so dead either; for there's a great independent +party, you know; and if <i>you</i> don't help me, Bursal, to canvass +them, I shall be no captain. It is you I depend upon after all. +Will you come and canvass them with me? Dear Bursal, pray—all +depends upon you.</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>Pulls him by the arm—Bursal follows.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Well, if all depends upon me, I'll see what I can do +for you. (<i>Aside.</i>) Then I am of some consequence! Money +makes a man of some consequence, I see; at least with some +folks.</p> + +<h4>SCENE II</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>In the back scene a flock of sheep are seen penned. In front, a +party of country lads and lasses, gaily dressed, as in sheep-shearing +time, with ribands and garlands of flowers, etc., +are dancing and singing.</i></p> +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Patty,</span> <i>dressed as the Queen of the Festival, with a lamb +in her arms. The dancers break off when she comes in, +and direct their attention towards her.</i><span class="pagenum">[197]</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>1st Peasant.</i> Oh, here comes Patty! Here comes the Queen +o' the day. What has kept you from us so long, Patty?</p> + +<p><i>2nd Peasant.</i> '<i>Please your Majesty</i>,' you should say.</p> + +<p><i>Patty.</i> This poor little lamb of mine was what kept me so +long. It strayed away from the rest; and I should have lost +him, so I should, for ever, if it had not been for a good young +gentleman. Yonder he is, talking to Farmer Hearty. That's +the young gentleman who pulled my lamb out of the ditch for +me, into which he had fallen—pretty creature!</p> + +<p><i>1st Peasant.</i> Pretty creature—or, your Majesty, whichever +you choose to be called—come and dance with them, and I'll +carry your lamb.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt, singing and dancing.</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Farmer Hearty</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Talbot.</span><br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Farmer.</i> Why, young gentleman, I'm glad I happened to +light upon you here, and so to hinder you from going farther +astray, and set your heart at ease like.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Thanks, good farmer, you have set my heart at ease, +indeed. But the truth is, they did frighten me confoundedly—more +fool I.</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> No fool at all, to my notion. I should, at your age, +ay, or at my age, just the self-same way have been frightened +myself, if so be that mention had been made to me, that way, +of my own mother's having broke her leg or so. And greater, +by a great deal, the shame for them that frighted you, than for +you to be frighted. How young gentlemen, now, can bring +themselves for to tell such lies, is to me, now, a matter of +amazement, like, that I can't noways get over.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Oh, farmer, such lies are very witty, though you and +I don't just now like the wit of them. This is fun, this is +<i>quizzing</i>; but you don't know what we young gentlemen +mean by <i>quizzing</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> Ay, but I do though, to my cost, ever since last +year. Look you, now, at yon fine field of wheat. Well, it +was just as fine, and finer, last year, till a young Eton +jackanapes——</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Take care what you say, farmer; for I am a young +Eton jackanapes.</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> No; but you be not the young Eton jackanapes +that I'm a-thinking on. I tell you it was this time last year,<span class="pagenum">[198]</span> +man; he was a-horseback, I tell ye, mounted upon a fine bay +hunter, out o' hunting, like.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> I tell you it was this time last year, man, that I was +mounted upon a fine bay hunter, out a-hunting.</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> Zooks! would you argufy a man out of his wits? +You won't go for to tell me that you are that impertinent little +jackanapes!</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> No! no! I'll not tell you that I am an impertinent +little jackanapes!</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> (<i>wiping his forehead</i>). Well, don't then, for I can't +believe it; and you put me out. Where was I?</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Mounted upon a fine bay hunter.</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> Ay, so he was. 'Here, <i>you</i>,' says he, meaning me—'open +this gate for me.' Now, if he had but a-spoke me +fair, I would not have gainsaid him; but he falls to swearing, +so I bid him open the gate for himself. 'There's a bull +behind you, farmer,' says he. I turns. '<i>Quizzed</i> him!' cries +my jackanapes, and off he gallops him, through the very thick +of my corn; but he got a fall, leaping the ditch out yonder, +which pacified me, like, at the minute. So I goes up to see +whether he was killed; but he was not a whit the worse for +his tumble. So I should ha' fell into a passion with him then, +to be sure, about my corn; but his horse had got such a +terrible sprain, I couldn't say anything to him; for I was +a-pitying the poor animal. As fine a hunter as ever you saw! +I am s<i>a</i>rtain sure he could never come to good after.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> (<i>aside</i>). I do think, from the description, that this +was Wheeler; and I have paid for the horse which he spoiled! +(<i>Aloud.</i>) Should you know either the man or the horse again, +if you were to see them?</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> Ay, that I should, to my dying day.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Will you come with me, then, and you'll do me some +guineas' worth of service?</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> Ay, that I will, with a deal of pleasure; for you be +a civil-spoken young gentleman; and, besides, I don't think +the worse <i>on</i> you for being <i>frighted</i> a little about your mother; +being what I might ha' been, at your age, myself; for I had a +mother myself once. So lead on, master.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt.</i>)<span class="pagenum">[199]</span></p> + +<h3>ACT THE THIRD</h3> + +<h4>SCENE I</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>The Garden of the 'Windmill Inn' at Salt Hill</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Miss Bursal, Mrs. Newington, Sally</span> <i>the Chambermaid</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p class="noin">(<i>Miss Bursal, in a fainting state, is sitting on a garden stool, +and leaning her head against the Landlady. Sally is holding +a glass of water and a smelling bottle.</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Miss Bursal.</i> Where am I? Where am I?</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> At the 'Windmill,' at Salt Hill, young lady; +and ill or well, you can't be better.</p> + +<p><i>Sally.</i> Do you find yourself better since coming into the air, +miss?</p> + +<p><i>Miss B.</i> Better! Oh, I shall never be better!</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>Leans her head on hand, and rocks herself backwards and forwards.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<p><i>Landlady.</i> My dear young lady, don't take on so. (<i>Aside.</i>) +Now would I give something to know what it was my Lady +Piercefield said to the father, and what the father said to this +one, and what's the matter at the bottom of affairs. Sally, did +you hear anything at the doors?</p> + +<p><i>Sally</i> (<i>aside</i>). No, indeed, ma'am; I never <i>be's</i> at the doors.</p> + +<p><i>Landlady</i> (<i>aside</i>). Simpleton! (<i>Aloud.</i>) But, my dear +Miss Bursal, if I may be so bold—if you'd only disembosom +your mind of what's on it——</p> + +<p><i>Miss B.</i> Disembosom my mind! Nonsense! I've nothing +on my mind. Pray leave me, madam.</p> + +<p><i>Landlady</i> (<i>aside</i>). Madam, indeed! madam, forsooth! Oh, +I'll make her pay for that! That <i>madam</i> shall go down in the +bill as sure as my name's Newington. (<i>In a higher tone.</i>) +Well, I wish you better, ma'am. I suppose I'd best send +your own servant?</p> + +<p><i>Miss B.</i> (<i>sullenly</i>). Yes, I suppose so. (<i>To Sally.</i>) You +need not wait, child, nor look so curious.</p> + +<p><i>Sally.</i> <i>Cur'ous!</i> Indeed, miss, if I look a little <i>cur'ous</i>, or +so (<i>looking at her dress</i>), 'tis only because I was <i>frighted</i> to see<span class="pagenum">[200]</span> +you take on, which made me forget my clean apron when I +came out; and this apron——</p> + +<p><i>Miss B.</i> Hush! hush! child. Don't tell me about clean +aprons, nor run on with your vulgar talk. Is there ever a +seat one can set on in that <i>h</i>arbour yonder?</p> + +<p><i>Sally.</i> O dear <i>'art</i>, yes, miss; 'tis the pleasantest <i>h</i>arbour +on <i>h</i>earth. Be pleased to lean on my <i>h</i>arm, and you'll soon +be there.</p> + +<p><i>Miss B.</i> (<i>going</i>). Then tell my woman she need not come +to me, and let nobody <i>interude</i> on me—do you <i>'ear</i>? (<i>Aside.</i>) +Oh, what will become of me? and the Talbots will soon +know it! And the ponies, and the curricle, and the <i>vis-à-vis</i>—what +will become of them? and how shall I make my +appearance at the Montem, or any <i>ware</i> else?</p> + +<h4>SCENE II</h4> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Lord John—Wheeler—Bursal</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Wheeler.</i> Well, but, my lord—Well, but, Bursal—though +my Lady Piercefield—though Miss Bursal is come to Salt +Hill, you won't leave us all at sixes and sevens. What can +we do without you?</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> You can do very well without <i>me</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Bursal.</i> You can do very well without <i>me</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> (<i>to Burs.</i>). Impossible!—impossible! You know +Mr. Finsbury will be here just now, with the dresses; and we +have to try them on.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> And to pay for them.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> And to settle about the procession. And then, my +lord, the election is to come on this evening. You won't go +till that's over, as your lordship has <i>promised</i> me your lordship's +vote and interest.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> My vote I promised you, Mr. Wheeler; but I said +not a syllable about my <i>interest</i>. My friends, perhaps, have +not been offended, though I have, by Mr. Talbot. I shall +leave them to their own inclinations.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> (<i>whistling</i>). Wheugh! wheugh! wheugh! Wheeler, +the principal's nothing without the interest.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Oh, the interest will go along with the principal, of +course; for I'm persuaded, if my lord leaves his friends to<span class="pagenum">[201]</span> +their inclinations, it will be the inclination of my lord's +friends to vote as he does, if he says nothing to them to the +contrary.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> I told you, Mr. Wheeler, that I should leave them +to themselves.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> (<i>still whistling</i>). Well, I'll do my best to make that +father of mine send me off to Oxford. I'm sure I'm fit to go—along +with Wheeler. Why, you'd best be my tutor, +Wheeler!—a devilish good thought.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> An excellent thought.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> And a cursed fine dust we should kick up at Oxford, +with your Montem money and all!—Money's <i>the go</i> after all. +I wish it was come to my making you my last bow, 'ye +distant spires, ye <i>antic</i> towers!'</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> (<i>aside to Lord J.</i>). Ye <i>antic</i> towers!—fit for Oxford, +my lord!</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> <i>Antique</i> towers, I suppose Mr. Bursal means.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Antique, to be sure!—I said antique, did not I, +Wheeler?</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Oh yes.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> (<i>aside</i>). What a mean animal is this!</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Rory O'Ryan.</span><br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Why, now, what's become of Talbot, I want to know? +There he is not to be found anywhere in the wide world; and +there's a hullabaloo amongst his friends for him.</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>Wheeler and Bursal wink at one another.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> We know nothing of him.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> I have not the honour, sir, to be one of Mr. +Talbot's friends. It is his own fault, and I am sorry for it.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> 'Faith, so am I, especially as it is mine—fault I +mean; and especially as the election is just going to come on.</p> + +<p><i>Enter a party of boys, who cry</i>, Finsbury's come!—Finsbury's +come with the dresses!</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Finsbury's come? Oh, let us see the dresses, and +let us try 'em on to-night.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> (<i>pushing the crowd</i>). On with ye—on with ye, +there!—Let's try 'em on!—Try 'em on—I'm to be colonel.</p> + +<p><i>1st Boy.</i> And I lieutenant.</p> + +<p><i>2nd Boy.</i> And I ensign.</p> + +<p><i>3rd Boy.</i> And I college salt-bearer.<span class="pagenum">[202]</span></p> + +<p><i>4th Boy.</i> And I oppidan.</p> + +<p><i>5th Boy.</i> Oh, what a pity I'm in mourning.</p> + +<p>(<i>Several speak at once.</i>) And we are servitors. We are to +be the eight servitors.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> And I am to be your Captain, I hope. Come on, +my Colonel (<i>to Bursal</i>). My lord, you are coming?</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> By-and-by—I've a word in his ear, by your <i>lave</i> and +his.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Why, what the devil stops the way, there?—Push on—on +with them.</p> + +<p><i>6th Boy.</i> I'm marshal.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> On with you—on with you—who cares what you are?</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> (<i>to Bursal, aside</i>). You'll pay Finsbury for me, +you rich Jew? (<i>To Lord John.</i>) Your lordship will remember +your lordship's promise?</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> I do not usually forget my promises, sir; and +therefore need not to be reminded of them.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> I beg pardon—I beg ten thousand pardons, my +lord.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> (<i>taking him by the arm</i>). Come on, man, and don't +stand begging pardon there, or I'll leave you.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> (<i>to Burs.</i>). I beg pardon, Bursal—I beg pardon, +ten thousand times.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt.</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Manent Lord John</span> and <span class="smcap">Rory O'Ryan</span>.<br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Wheugh!—Now put the case. If I was going to be +hanged, for the life of me I couldn't be after begging so many +pardons for nothing at all. But many men, many minds—(<i>Hums.</i>) +True game to the last! No Wheeler for me. Oh, +murder! I forgot, I was nigh letting the cat out o' the bag +again.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> You had something to say to me, sir? I wait till +your recollection returns.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> 'Faith, and that's very kind of you; and if you had +always done so, you would never have been offended with me, +my lord.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> You are mistaken, Mr. O'Ryan, if you think that +you did or could offend me.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Mistaken was I, then, sure enough; but we are all +liable to mistakes, and should forget and forgive one another; +that's the way to go through.<span class="pagenum">[203]</span></p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> You will go through the world your own way, Mr. +O'Ryan, and allow me to go through it my way.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Very fair—fair enough—then we shan't cross. But +now, to come to the point. I don't like to be making disagreeable +retrospects, if I could any way avoid it; nor to be +going about the bush, especially at this time o' day; when, as +Mr. Finsbury's come, we've not so much time to lose as we +had. Is there any truth, then, my lord, in the report that is +going about this hour past, that you have gone in a huff and +given your promise there to that sneaking Wheeler to vote for +him now?</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> In answer to your question, sir, I am to inform you +that I <i>have</i> promised Mr. Wheeler to vote for him.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> In a huff?—Ay, now, there it is!—Well, when a +man's <i>mad</i>, to be sure, he's mad—and that's all that can be +said about it. And I know, if I had been <i>mad</i> myself, I +might have done a foolish thing as well as another. But now, +my lord, that you are not mad——</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> I protest, sir, I cannot understand you. In one +word, sir, I'm neither mad nor a fool!—Your most obedient +(<i>going, angrily</i>).</p> + +<p><i>Rory</i> (<i>holding him</i>). Take care, now; you are going mad +with me again. But phoo! I like you the better for being +mad. I'm very often mad myself, and I would not give a +potato for one that had never been mad in his life.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> (<i>aside</i>). He'll not be quiet till he makes me knock +him down.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Agh! agh! agh!—I begin to guess whereabouts I +am at last. <i>Mad</i>, in your country, I take it, means fit for +Bedlam; but with us in Ireland, now, 'tis no such thing; it +means nothing in life but the being in a passion. Well, one +comfort is, my lord, as you're a bit of a scholar, we have the +Latin proverb in our favour—'<i>Ira furor brevis est</i>' (Anger is +short madness). The shorter the better, I think. So, my +lord, to put an end to whatever of the kind you may have felt +against poor Talbot, I'll assure you he's as innocent o' that +unfortunate song as the babe unborn.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> It is rather late for Mr. Talbot to make apologies +to me.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> He make apologies! Not he, 'faith; he'd send me +to Coventry, or maybe to a worse place, did he but know I was<span class="pagenum">[204]</span> +condescending to make this bit of explanation, unknown to +him. But, upon my conscience, I've a regard for you both, +and don't like to see you go together by the ears. Now, look +you, my lord. By this book, and all the books that were ever +shut and opened, he never saw or heard of that unlucky song +of mine till I came out with it this morning.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> But you told me this morning that it was he who +wrote it.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> For that I take shame to myself, as it turned out; +but it was only a <i>white</i> lie to s<i>a</i>rve a friend, and make him +cut a dash with a new song at election time. But I've done +for ever with white lies.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> (<i>walking about as if agitated</i>). I wish you had +never begun with them, Mr. O'Ryan. This may be a good +joke to you, but it is none to me or Talbot. So Talbot never +wrote a word of the song?</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Not a word or syllable, good or bad.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> And I have given my promise to vote against him. +He'll lose his election.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Not if you'll give me leave to speak to your friends +in your name.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> I have promised to leave them to themselves; and +Wheeler, I am sure, has engaged them by this time.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Bless my body! I'll not stay prating here then.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit Rory.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> (<i>follows</i>). But what can have become of Talbot? +I have been too hasty for once in my life. Well, I shall suffer +for it more than anybody else; for I love Talbot, since he did +not make the song, of which I hate to think.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit.</i>)</p> + +<h4>SCENE III</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>A large hall in Eton College—A staircase at the end—Eton +lads, dressed in their Montem Dresses, in the Scene—In +front,</i> <span class="smcap">Wheeler</span> (<i>dressed as Captain</i>), <span class="smcap">Bursal,</span> <i>and</i> +<span class="smcap">Finsbury.</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Fins.</i> I give you infinite credit, Mr. Wheeler, for this +dress.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> <i>Infinite credit!</i> Why, he'll have no objection to<span class="pagenum">[205]</span> +that—hey, Wheeler? But I thought Finsbury knew you too +well to give you credit for anything.</p> + +<p><i>Fins.</i> You are pleased to be pleasant, sir. Mr. Wheeler +knows, in that sense of the word, it is out of my power to give +him credit, and I'm sure he would not ask it.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> (<i>aside</i>). O, Bursal, pay him, and I'll pay you to-morrow.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Now, if you weren't to be captain after all, Wheeler, +what a pretty figure you'd cut. Ha! ha! ha!—Hey?</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> Oh, I am as sure of being captain as of being alive. +(<i>Aside.</i>) Do pay for me, now, there's a good, dear fellow, +before <i>they</i> (<i>looking back</i>) come up.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> (<i>aside</i>). I love to make him lick the dust. (<i>Aloud.</i>) +Hollo! here's Finsbury waiting to be paid, lads. (<i>To the lads +who are in the back scene.</i>) Who has paid, and who has not +paid? I say.</p> + +<p>(<i>The lads come forward, and several exclaim at once</i>,) I've +paid! I've paid!</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lord John</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Rory O'Ryan.</span><br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Oh, King of Fashion, how fine we are! Why, now, +to look at ye all one might fancy one's self at the playhouse at +once, or at a fancy ball in dear little Dublin. Come, strike up +a dance.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Pshaw! Wherever you come, Rory O'Ryan, no one +else can be heard. Who has paid, and who has not paid? I +say.</p> + +<p><i>Several boys exclaim</i>, We've all paid.</p> + +<p><i>1st Boy.</i> I've not paid, but here's my money.</p> + +<p><i>Several Boys.</i> We have not paid, but here's our money.</p> + +<p><i>6th Boy.</i> Order there, I am marshal. All that have paid +march off to the staircase, and take your seats there, one by +one. March!</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>As they march by, one by one, so as to display +their dresses, Mr. Finsbury bows, and says,</i>)</p> + +<p>A thousand thanks, gentlemen. Thank you, gentlemen. +Thanks, gentlemen. The finest sight ever I saw out of +Lon'on.</p> + +<p><i>Rory, as each lad passes, catches his arm,</i> Are you a +Talbot<i>ite</i>, or a Wheeler<i>ite</i>? <i>To each who answers</i> 'A +Wheelerite,' <i>Rory replies</i>, 'Phoo! dance off, then. Go to<span class="pagenum">[206]</span> +the devil and shake yourself.'<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> <i>Each who answers</i> 'A +Talbotite,' <i>Rory shakes by the hand violently, singing,</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center">Talbot, oh, Talbot's the dog for Rory.<br /></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>When they have almost all passed, Lord John says,</i> But +where can Mr. Talbot be all this time?</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Who knows? Who cares?</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> A pretty electioneerer! (<i>Aside to Bursal.</i>) Finsbury's +waiting to be paid.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> You don't wait for me, Mr. Finsbury. You know, +I have settled with you.</p> + +<p><i>Fins.</i> Yes, my lord—yes. Many thanks; and I have left +your lordship's dress here, and everybody's dress, I believe, as +bespoke.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Here, Finsbury, is the money for Wheeler, who, +between you and me, is as poor as a rat.</p> + +<p><i>Wheeler</i> (<i>affecting to laugh</i>). Well, I hope I shall be as rich +as a Jew to-morrow.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Bursal counts money, in an ostentatious +manner, into Finsbury's hand.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Fins.</i> A thousand thanks for all favours.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> You will be kind enough to <i>lave</i> Mr. Talbot's dress +with me, Mr. Finsbury, for I'm a friend.</p> + +<p><i>Fins.</i> Indubitably, sir; but the misfortune is—he! he! +he!—Mr. Talbot, sir, has bespoke no dress. Your servant, +gentlemen.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit Finsbury.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> So your friend Mr. Talbot could not afford to +bespeak a dress—(<i>Bursal and Wheeler laugh insolently</i>). How +comes that, I wonder?</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> If I'm not mistaken, here comes Talbot to answer +for himself.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> But who, in the name of St. Patrick, has he along +with him?</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Talbot</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Landlord.</span><br /> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Come in along with us, Farmer Hearty—come in.</p> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>Whilst the Farmer comes in, the boys who were sitting on the stairs rise and exclaim,</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<p>Whom have we here? What now? Come down, lads; +here's more fun.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> What's here, Talbot?</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[207]</span></p> +<p><i>Talb.</i> An honest farmer and a good-natured landlord, who +<i>would</i> come here along with me to speak——</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> (<i>interrupting</i>). To speak the truth—(<i>strikes his +stick on the ground</i>).</p> + +<p><i>Landlord</i> (<i>unbuttoning his waistcoat</i>). But I am so hot—so +short-winded, that (<i>panting and puffing</i>)—that for the soul +and body of me, I cannot say what I have got for to say.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> 'Faith, now, the more short-winded a story, the +better, to my fancy.</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Wheeler, what's the matter, man? you look as if +your under jaw was broke.</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> The matter is, young gentlemen, that there was +once upon a time a fine bay hunter.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> (<i>squeezing up to Talbot, aside</i>). Don't expose me, +don't let him tell. (<i>To the Farmer.</i>) I'll pay for the corn I +spoiled. (<i>To the Landlord.</i>) I'll pay for the horse.</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> I does not want to be paid for my corn. The short +of it is, young gentlemen, this 'un here, in the fine thing-em-bobs +(<i>pointing to Wheeler</i>), is a shabby fellow; he went and +spoiled Master Newington's best hunter.</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> (<i>panting</i>). Ruinationed him! ruinationed him!</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> But was that all the shabbiness? Now I might, or +any of us might, have had such an accident as that. I suppose +he paid the gentleman for the horse, or will do so, in good +time.</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> (<i>holding his sides</i>). Oh, that I had but a little breath +in this body o' mine to speak all—speak on, Farmer.</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> (<i>striking his stick on the floor</i>). Oons, sir, when a +man's put out, he can't go on with his story.</p> + +<p><i>Omnes.</i> Be quiet, Rory—hush!</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Rory puts his finger on his lips.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> Why, sir, I was a-going to tell you the shabbiness—why, +sir, he did not pay the landlord, here, for the horse; but +he goes and says to the landlord, here—'Mr. Talbot had your +horse on the self-same day; 'twas he did the damage; 'tis from +he you must get your money.' So Mr. Talbot, here, who is +another sort of a gentleman (though he has not so fine a coat), +would not see a man at a loss, that could not afford it; and +not knowing which of 'em it was that spoiled the horse, goes, +when he finds the other would not pay a farthing, and pays all.</p> + +<p><i>Rory</i> (<i>rubbing his hands</i>). There's Talbot for ye. And<span class="pagenum">[208]</span> +now, gentlemen (<i>to Wheeler and Bursal</i>), you guess the <i>rason</i>, +as I do, I suppose, why he bespoke no dress; he had not +money enough to be fine—and honest, too. You are very fine, +Mr. Wheeler, to do you justice.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> Pray, Mr. O'Ryan, let the farmer go on; he has +more to say. How did you find out, pray, my good friend, +that it was not Talbot who spoiled the horse? Speak loud +enough to be heard by everybody.</p> + +<p><i>Farm.</i> Ay, that I will—I say (<i>very loudly</i>) I say I saw <i>him</i> +there (<i>pointing to Wheeler</i>) take the jump which strained the +horse; and I'm ready to swear to it. Yet he let another pay; +there's the shabbiness.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>A general groan from all the lads.</i> 'Oh, shabby +Wheeler, shabby! I'll not vote for shabby Wheeler!')</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> (<i>aside</i>). Alas! I must vote for him.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Rory sings.</i></p> + +<div class="inset" style="width:32em"> +<p class="noin"> +True game to the last; no Wheeler for me;<br /> +Talbot, oh, Talbot's the dog for me. +</p> +</div> + +<p class="right">(<i>Several voices join the chorus.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Burs.</i> Wheeler, if you are not chosen Captain, you must see +and pay me for the dress.</p> + +<p><i>Wheel.</i> I am as poor as a rat.</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Oh yes! oh yes! hear ye! hear ye, all manner of +men—the election is now going to begin forthwith in the big +field, and Rory O'Ryan holds the poll for Talbot. Talbot for +ever!—huzza!</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit Rory followed by the Boys, who exclaim,</i> Talbot +for ever!—huzza! <i>The Landlord and Farmer +join them.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> Talbot, I am glad you <i>are</i> what I always thought +you—I'm glad you did not write that odious song. I would +not lose such a friend for all the songs in the world. Forgive +me for my hastiness this morning. I've punished myself—I've +promised to vote for Wheeler.</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Oh, no matter whom you vote for, my lord, if you are +still my friend, and if you know me to be yours.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>They shake hands.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> I must not say, '<i>Huzza for Talbot!</i>'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt.</i>)</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i018f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i018t.jpg" alt="i018t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption">'<i>I say I saw</i> him <i>there take the jump which strained the horse.</i>'</p> +</div> + +<br /> +<p><span class="pagenum">[210]</span></p> + +<h4>SCENE IV</h4> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Windsor Terrace</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Lady Piercefield, Mrs. Talbot, Louisa,</span> <i>and a little girl of +six years old</i>, <span class="smcap">Lady Violetta</span>, <i>daughter to</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Piercefield</span>.</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Violetta</i> (<i>looking at a paper which Louisa holds</i>). I like it +<i>very</i> much.</p> + +<p><i>Lady P.</i> What is it you like <i>very</i> much, Violetta?</p> + +<p><i>Violet.</i> You are not to know <i>yet</i>, mamma; it is—I may tell +her that—it is a little drawing that Louisa is doing for me. +Louisa, I wish you would let me show it to mamma.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> And welcome, my dear; it is only a sketch of 'The +Little Merchants,' a story which Violetta was reading, and she +asked me to try to draw the pictures of the little merchants +for her.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Whilst Lady P. looks at the drawing, Violetta +says to Louisa</i>)</p> + +<p>But are you in earnest, Louisa, about what you were saying +to me just now,—quite in earnest?</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> Yes, in earnest,—quite in earnest, my dear.</p> + +<p><i>Violet.</i> And may I ask mamma <i>now</i>?</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> If you please, my dear.</p> + +<p><i>Violet.</i> (<i>runs to her mother</i>). Stoop down to me, mamma; +I've something to whisper to you.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Lady Piercefield stoops down; Violetta throws +her arms round her mother's neck.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Violet.</i> (<i>aside to her mother</i>). Mamma, do you know—you +know you want a governess for me.</p> + +<p><i>Lady P.</i> Yes, if I could find a good one.</p> + +<p><i>Violet.</i> (<i>aloud</i>). Stoop again, mamma, I've more to whisper. +(<i>Aside to her mother.</i>) <i>She</i> says she will be my governess, if +you please.</p> + +<p><i>Lady P.</i> <i>She!</i>—who is <i>she</i>?</p> + +<p><i>Violet.</i> Louisa.</p> + +<p><i>Lady P.</i> (<i>patting Violetta's cheek</i>). You are a little fool. +Miss Talbot is only playing with you.</p> + +<p><i>Violet.</i> No, indeed, mamma; she is in earnest; are not you, +Louisa?—Oh, say yes!</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> Yes.<span class="pagenum">[211]</span></p> + +<p><i>Violet.</i> (<i>claps her hands</i>). <i>Yes</i>, mamma; do you hear +<i>yes</i>?</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> If Lady Piercefield will trust you to my care, I am +persuaded that I should be much happier as your governess, +my good little Violetta, than as an humble dependent of Miss +Bursal's. (<i>Aside to her mother.</i>) You see that, now I am +put to the trial, I keep to my resolution, dear mother.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. T.</i> Your ladyship would not be surprised at this offer of +my Louisa, if you had heard, as we have done within these few +hours, of the loss of the East India ship in which almost our +whole property was embarked.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> The <i>Bombay Castle</i> is wrecked.</p> + +<p><i>Lady P.</i> The <i>Bombay Castle</i>! I have the pleasure to tell +you that you are misinformed—it was the <i>Airly Castle</i> that was +wrecked.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa and Mrs. T.</i> Indeed!</p> + +<p><i>Lady P.</i> Yes; you may depend upon it—it was the <i>Airly +Castle</i> that was lost. You know I am just come from Portsmouth, +where I went to meet my brother, Governor Morton, +who came home with the last India fleet, and from whom I had +the intelligence.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Here Violetta interrupts, to ask her mother for her +nosegay—Lady P. gives it to her,—then goes +on speaking.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Lady P.</i> They were in such haste, foolish people! to +carry their news to London, that they mistook one castle +for another. But do you know that Mr. Bursal loses fifty +thousand pounds, it is said, by the <i>Airly Castle</i>? When I +told him she was lost, I thought he would have dropped down. +However, I found he comforted himself afterwards with a +bottle of Burgundy; but poor Miss Bursal has been in hysterics +ever since.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. T.</i> Poor girl! My Louisa, <i>you</i> did not fall into +hysterics, when I told you of the loss of our whole fortune.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Violetta, during this dialogue, has been seated on the +ground making up a nosegay.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Violet.</i> (<i>aside</i>). Fall into hysterics! What are hysterics, I +wonder.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> Miss Bursal is much to be pitied; for the loss of +wealth will be the loss of happiness to her.</p> + +<p><i>Lady P.</i> It is to be hoped that the loss may at least check +the foolish pride and extravagance of young Bursal, who, as my +son tells me——</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>A cry of</i> 'Huzza! huzza!' <i>behind the scenes.</i>)</p> + + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i019f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i019t.jpg" alt="i019t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption">'<i>Talbot and truth for ever! Huzza.</i>'</p> +</div> + +<br /> +<p><span class="pagenum">[213]</span></p> +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lord John</span>.</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> (<i>hastily</i>). How d'ye do, mother? Miss Talbot, I +give you joy.</p> + +<p><i>Lady P.</i> Take breath—take breath.</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> It is my brother.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. T.</i> Here he is!—Hark! hark!</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>A cry behind the scenes of</i> 'Talbot and truth for ever! +Huzza!')</p> + +<p><i>Louisa.</i> They are chairing him.</p> + +<p><i>Lord J.</i> Yes, they are chairing him; and he has been +chosen for his honourable conduct, not for his electioneering +skill; for, to do him justice, Coriolanus himself was not a +worse electioneerer.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Rory O'Ryan</span> <i>and another Eton lad, carrying</i> <span class="smcap">Talbot</span> +<i>in a chair, followed by a crowd of Eton lads.</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> By your <i>lave</i>, my lord—by your <i>lave</i>, ladies.</p> + +<p><i>Omnes.</i> Huzza! Talbot and truth for ever! Huzza!</p> + +<p><i>Talb.</i> Set me down! There's my mother! There's my +sister!</p> + +<p><i>Rory.</i> Easy, easy. Set him down! No such <i>ting</i>! give +him t'other huzza! There's nothing like a good loud huzza in +this world. Yes, there is! for, as my Lord John said just now, +out of some book or out of his own head—</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width:32em"> +<p class="noin"> +One self-approving hour whole years outweighs<br /> +Of stupid starers and of loud huzzas. +</p> +</div> + +<h4>CURTAIN FALLS</h4> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[215]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="FORGIVE_AND_FORGET" id="FORGIVE_AND_FORGET"></a>FORGIVE AND FORGET</h2> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">In</span> the neighbourhood of a seaport town in the west of England +there lived a gardener, who had one son, called Maurice, +to whom he was very partial. One day his father sent him to +the neighbouring town to purchase some garden seeds for him. +When Maurice got to the seed-shop, it was full of people, who +were all impatient to be served: first a great tall man, and +next a great fat woman pushed before him; and he stood +quietly beside the counter, waiting till somebody should be at +leisure to attend to him. At length, when all the other people +who were in the shop had got what they wanted, the shopman +turned to Maurice—'And what do you want, my patient little +fellow?' said he.</p> + +<p>'I want all these seeds for my father,' said Maurice, putting +a list of seeds into the shopman's hand; 'and I have brought +money to pay for them all.'</p> + +<p>The seedsman looked out all the seeds that Maurice wanted, +and packed them up in paper: he was folding up some +painted lady-peas, when, from a door at the back of the shop, +there came in a square, rough-faced man, who exclaimed, the +moment he came in, 'Are the seeds I ordered ready?—The +wind's fair—they ought to have been aboard yesterday. And +my china jar, is it packed up and directed? where is it?'</p> + +<p>'It is up there on the shelf over your head, sir,' answered +the seedsman. 'It is very safe, you see; but we have not +had time to pack it yet. It shall be done to-day; and we will +get the seeds ready for you, sir, immediately.'</p> + +<p>'Immediately! then stir about it. The seeds will not pack +themselves up. Make haste, pray.' 'Immediately, sir, as +soon as I have done up the parcel for this little boy.' 'What<span class="pagenum">[216]</span> +signifies the parcel for this little boy? He can wait, and I +cannot—wind and tide wait for no man. Here, my good lad, +take your parcel and sheer off,' said the impatient man; and, +as he spoke, he took up the parcel of seeds from the counter, +as the shopman stooped to look for a sheet of thick brown +paper and packthread to tie it up.</p> + +<p>The parcel was but loosely folded up, and as the impatient +man lifted it, the weight of the peas which were withinside of +it burst the paper, and all the seeds fell out upon the floor, +whilst Maurice in vain held his hands to catch them. The +peas rolled to all parts of the shop; the impatient man swore +at them, but Maurice, without being out of humour, set about +collecting them as fast as possible.</p> + +<p>Whilst the boy was busied in this manner, the man got +what seeds he wanted; and as he was talking about them, a +sailor came into the shop, and said, 'Captain, the wind has +changed within these five minutes, and it looks as if we should +have ugly weather.'</p> + +<p>'Well, I'm glad of it,' replied the rough-faced man, who +was the captain of a ship. 'I am glad to have a day longer +to stay ashore, and I've business enough on my hands.' The +captain pushed forward towards the shop door. Maurice, +who was kneeling on the floor, picking up his seeds, saw that +the captain's foot was entangled in some packthread which +hung down from the shelf on which the china jar stood. +Maurice saw that, if the captain took one more step forward, +he must pull the string, so that it would throw down the jar, +round the bottom of which the packthread was entangled. +He immediately caught hold of the captain's leg, and stopped +him, 'Stay! Stand still, sir!' said he, 'or you will break +your china jar.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i020f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i020t.jpg" alt="i020t"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption">'<i>Stay! Stand still, sir! or you will break your china jar.</i>'</p> +</div> + +<p>The man stood still, looked, and saw how the packthread +had caught in his shoe buckle, and how it was near dragging +down his beautiful china jar. 'I am really very much obliged +to you, my little fellow,' said he. 'You have saved my jar, +which I would not have broken for ten guineas, for it is for +my wife, and I've brought it safe from abroad many a league. +It would have been a pity if I had broken it just when it was +safe landed. I am really much obliged to you, my little +fellow, this was returning good for evil. I am sorry I threw +down your seeds, as you are such a good-natured, forgiving<span class="pagenum">[218]</span> +boy. Be so kind,' continued he, turning to the shopman, 'as +to reach down that china jar for me.'</p> + +<p>The shopman lifted down the jar very carefully, and the +captain took off the cover, and pulled out some tulip-roots. +'You seem, by the quantity of seeds you have got, to belong to +a gardener. Are you fond of gardening?' said he to Maurice.</p> + +<p>'Yes, sir,' replied Maurice, 'very fond of it; for my father +is a gardener, and he lets me help him at his work, and he +has given me a little garden of my own.'</p> + +<p>'Then here are a couple of tulip-roots for you; and if you +take care of them, I'll promise you that you will have the +finest tulips in England in your little garden. These tulips +were given to me by a Dutch merchant, who told me that they +were some of the rarest and finest in Holland. They will +prosper with you, I'm sure, wind and weather permitting.'</p> + +<p>Maurice thanked the gentleman, and returned home, eager +to show his precious tulip-roots to his father, and to a companion +of his, the son of a nurseryman, who lived near him. +Arthur was the name of the nurseryman's son.</p> + +<p>The first thing Maurice did, after showing his tulip-roots to +his father, was to run to Arthur's garden in search of him. +Their gardens were separated only by a low wall of loose +stones:—'Arthur! Arthur! where are you? Are you in your +garden? I want you.' But Arthur made no answer, and did +not, as usual, come running to meet his friend. 'I know +where you are,' continued Maurice, 'and I'm coming to you as +fast as the raspberry-bushes will let me. I have good news +for you—something you'll be delighted to see, Arthur!—Ha!—but +here is something that I am not delighted to see, I am +sure,' said poor Maurice, who, when he had got through the +raspberry-bushes, and had come in sight of his own garden, +beheld his bell-glass—his beloved bell-glass, under which his +cucumbers were grown so finely—his only bell-glass, broken +to pieces!</p> + +<p>'I am sorry for it,' said Arthur, who stood leaning upon +his spade in his own garden; 'I am afraid you will be very +angry with me.' 'Why, was it you, Arthur, broke my bell-glass? +Oh, how could you do so?' 'I was throwing weeds +and rubbish over the wall, and by accident a great lump of +couch-grass, with stones hanging to the roots, fell upon your +bell-glass, and broke it, as you see.'<span class="pagenum">[219]</span></p> + +<p>Maurice lifted up the lump of couch-grass, which had fallen +through the broken glass upon his cucumbers, and he looked +at his cucumbers for a moment in silence—'Oh, my poor +cucumbers! you must all die now. I shall see all your yellow +flowers withered to-morrow; but it is done, and it cannot be +helped; so, Arthur, let us say no more about it.'</p> + +<p>'You are very good; I thought you would have been angry. +I am sure I should have been exceedingly angry if you had +broken the glass, if it had been mine.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, forgive and forget, as my father always says; that's +the best way. Look what I have got for you.' Then he told +Arthur the story of the captain of the ship, and the china jar; +the seeds having been thrown down, and of the fine tulip-roots +which had been given to him; and Maurice concluded by +offering one of the precious roots to Arthur, who thanked him +with great joy, and repeatedly said, 'How good you were not +to be angry with me for breaking your bell-glass! I am much +more sorry for it than if you had been in a passion with me!'</p> + +<p>Arthur now went to plant his tulip-root; and Maurice +looked at the beds which his companion had been digging, +and at all the things which were coming up in his garden.</p> + +<p>'I don't know how it is,' said Arthur, 'but you always +seem as glad to see the things in my garden coming up, and +doing well, as if they were all your own. I am much happier +since my father came to live here, and since you and I have +been allowed to work and to play together, than I ever was +before; for you must know, before we came to live here, I had +a cousin in the house with me, who used to plague me. He +was not nearly so good-natured as you are. He never took +pleasure in looking at my garden, or at anything that I did +that was well done; and he never gave me a share of anything +that he had; and so I did not like him; how could I? +But, I believe that hating people makes us unhappy; for I +know I never was happy when I was quarrelling with him; +and I am always happy with you, Maurice. You know we +never quarrel.'</p> + +<p>It would be well for all the world if they could be convinced, +like Arthur, that to live in friendship is better than to quarrel. +It would be well for all the world if they followed Maurice's +maxim of 'Forgive and Forget,' when they receive, or when +they imagine that they receive, an injury.<span class="pagenum">[220]</span></p> + +<p>Arthur's father, Mr. Oakly, the nurseryman, was apt to +take offence at trifles; and when he thought that any of his +neighbours disobliged him, he was too proud to ask them to +explain their conduct; therefore he was often mistaken in his +judgment of them. He thought that it showed <i>spirit</i>, to remember +and to resent an injury; and, therefore, though he +was not an ill-natured man, he was sometimes led, by this +mistaken idea of <i>spirit</i>, to do ill-natured things: 'A warm +friend and a bitter enemy,' was one of his maxims, and he had +many more enemies than friends. He was not very rich, but +he was proud; and his favourite proverb was, 'Better live in +spite than in pity.'</p> + +<p>When first he settled near Mr. Grant, the gardener, he felt +inclined to dislike him, because he was told that Mr. Grant +was a Scotchman, and he had a prejudice against Scotchmen; +all of whom he believed to be cunning and avaricious, because +he had once been overreached by a Scotch peddler. Grant's +friendly manners in some degree conquered this prepossession; +but still he secretly suspected that <i>this civility</i>, as he said, +'<i>was all show</i>, and <i>that he was not, nor could not, being a +Scotchman, be such a hearty friend as a true-born Englishman</i>.'</p> + +<p>Grant had some remarkably fine raspberries. The fruit +was so large as to be quite a curiosity. When it was in +season, many strangers came from the neighbouring town, +which was a sea-bathing place, to look at these raspberries, +which obtained the name of <i>Brobdingnag</i> raspberries.</p> + +<p>'How came you, pray, neighbour Grant, if a man may ask, +by these wonderful fine raspberries?' said Mr. Oakly, one +evening, to the gardener. 'That's a secret,' replied Grant, with +an arch smile.</p> + +<p>'Oh, in case it's a secret, I've no more to say; for I never +meddle with any man's secrets that he does not choose to trust +me with. But I wish, neighbour Grant, you would put down +that book. You are always poring over some book or another +when a man comes to see you, which is not, according to my +notions (being a plain, <i>unlarned</i> Englishman bred and born), +so civil and neighbourly as might be.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Grant hastily shut his book, but remarked, with a +shrewd glance at his son, that it was in that book he found his +Brobdingnag raspberries.</p> + +<p>'You are pleased to be pleasant upon them that have not<span class="pagenum">[221]</span> +the luck to be as book-<i>larned</i> as yourself, Mr. Grant; but I +take it, being only a plain-spoken Englishman, as I observed +afore, that one is to the full as like to find a raspberry in one's +garden as in one's book, Mr. Grant.'</p> + +<p>Grant, observing that his neighbour spoke rather in a surly +tone, did not contradict him; being well versed in the Bible, +he knew that 'A soft word turneth away wrath,' and he +answered, in a good-humoured voice, 'I hear, neighbour +Oakly, you are likely to make a great deal of money of your +nursery this year. Here's to the health of you and yours, +not forgetting the seedling larches, which I see are coming on +finely.'</p> + +<p>'Thank ye, neighbour, kindly; the larches are coming on +tolerably well, that's certain; and here's to your good health, +Mr. Grant—you and yours, not forgetting your, what d'ye call +'em raspberries'—(<i>drinks</i>)—and, after a pause, resumes, 'I'm +not apt to be a beggar, neighbour, but if you could give me——'</p> + +<p>Here Mr. Oakly was interrupted by the entrance of some +strangers, and he did not finish making his request—Mr. Oakly +was not, as he said of himself, apt to ask favours, and nothing +but Grant's cordiality could have conquered his prejudices so +far as to tempt him to ask a favour from a Scotchman. He +was going to have asked for some of the Brobdingnag raspberry-plants. +The next day the thought of the raspberry-plants +recurred to his memory, but, being a bashful man, he did not +like to go himself on purpose to make his request, and he +desired his wife, who was just setting out to market, to call at +Grant's gate, and, if he was at work in his garden, to ask him +for a few plants of his raspberries.</p> + +<p>The answer which Oakly's wife brought to him was that +Mr. Grant had not a raspberry-plant in the world to give him, +and that if he had ever so many, he would not give one away, +except to his own son.</p> + +<p>Oakly flew into a passion when he received such a message, +declared it was just such a mean, shabby trick as might have been +expected from a Scotchman—called himself a booby, a dupe, +and a blockhead, for ever having trusted to the civil speeches +of a Scotchman—swore that he would die in the parish workhouse +before he would ever ask another favour, be it ever so +small, from a Scotchman; related to his wife, for the hundredth +time, the way in which he had been taken in by the Scotch<span class="pagenum">[222]</span> +peddler ten years ago, and concluded by forswearing all further +intercourse with Mr. Grant, and all belonging to him.</p> + +<p>'Son Arthur,' said he, addressing himself to the boy, who +just then came in from work—'Son Arthur, do you hear me? +let me never again see you with Grant's son.' 'With Maurice, +father?' 'With Maurice Grant, I say; I forbid you from +this day and hour forward to have anything to do with him.' +'Oh, why, dear father?' 'Ask me no questions, but do as +I bid you.'</p> + +<p>Arthur burst out a-crying, and only said, 'Yes, father, I'll +do as you bid me, to be sure.'</p> + +<p>'Why now, what does the boy cry for? Is there no other +boy, simpleton, think you, to play with, but this Scotchman's +son? I'll find out another playfellow for ye, child, if that be +all.' 'That's not all, father,' said Arthur, trying to stop +himself from sobbing; 'but the thing is, I shall never have +such another playfellow,—I shall never have such another +friend as Maurice Grant.'</p> + +<p>'Like father like son—you may think yourself well off to +have done with him.' 'Done with him! Oh, father, and +shall I never go again to work in his garden, and may not he +come to mine?' 'No,' replied Oakly sturdily; 'his father +has used me uncivil, and no man shall use me uncivil twice. +I say no. Wife, sweep up this hearth. Boy, don't take on +like a fool; but eat thy bacon and greens, and let's hear no +more of Maurice Grant.'</p> + +<p>Arthur promised to obey his father. He only begged that +he might once more speak to Maurice, and tell him that it was +by his father's orders he acted. This request was granted; +but when Arthur further begged to know what reason he +might give for this separation, his father refused to tell his +reasons. The two friends took leave of one another very +sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>Mr. Grant, when he heard of all this, endeavoured to +discover what could have offended his neighbour; but all +explanation was prevented by the obstinate silence of Oakly.</p> + +<p>Now, the message which Grant really sent about the Brobdingnag +raspberries was somewhat different from that which +Mr. Oakly received. The message was, that the raspberries +were not Mr. Grant's; that therefore he had no right to give +them away; that they belonged to his son Maurice, and that<span class="pagenum">[223]</span> +this was not the right time of year for planting them. This +message had been unluckily misunderstood. Grant gave his +answer to his wife; she to a Welsh servant-girl, who did not +perfectly comprehend her mistress's broad Scotch; and she in +her turn could not make herself intelligible to Mrs. Oakly, +who hated the Welsh accent, and whose attention, when the +servant-girl delivered the message, was principally engrossed +by the management of her own horse. The horse on which +Mrs. Oakly rode this day, being ill-broken, would not stand +still quietly at the gate, and she was extremely impatient to +receive her answer, and to ride on to market.</p> + +<p>Oakly, when he had once resolved to dislike his neighbour +Grant, could not long remain without finding out fresh causes +of complaint. There was in Grant's garden a plum-tree, +which was planted close to the loose stone wall that divided +the garden from the nursery. The soil in which the plum-tree +was planted happened not to be quite so good as that which +was on the opposite side of the wall, and the plum-tree had +forced its way through the wall, and gradually had taken +possession of the ground which it liked best.</p> + +<p>Oakly thought the plum-tree, as it belonged to Mr. Grant, +had no right to make its appearance on his ground: an +attorney told him that he might oblige Grant to cut it down; +but Mr. Grant refused to cut down his plum-tree at the +attorney's desire, and the attorney persuaded Oakly to go to +law about the business, and the lawsuit went on for some +months.</p> + +<p>The attorney, at the end of this time, came to Oakly with +a demand for money to carry on his suit, assuring him that, in +a short time, it would be determined in his favour. Oakly +paid his attorney ten golden guineas, remarked that it was a +great sum for him to pay, and that nothing but the love of +justice could make him persevere in this lawsuit about a bit of +ground, 'which, after all,' said he, 'is not worth twopence. +The plum-tree does me little or no damage, but I don't like to +be imposed upon by a Scotchman.'</p> + +<p>The attorney saw and took advantage of Oakly's prejudice +against the natives of Scotland; and he persuaded him, that +to show the <i>spirit</i> of a true-born Englishman it was necessary, +whatever it might cost him, to persist in this lawsuit.</p> + +<p>It was soon after this conversation with the attorney that<span class="pagenum">[224]</span> +Mr. Oakly walked with resolute steps towards the plum-tree, +saying to himself, 'If it cost me a hundred pounds I will not +let this cunning Scotchman get the better of me.'</p> + +<p>Arthur interrupted his father's reverie by pointing to a book +and some young plants which lay upon the wall. 'I fancy, +father,' said he, 'those things are for you, for there is a little +note directed to you in Maurice's handwriting. Shall I bring +it to you?' 'Yes, let me read it, child, since I must.' It +contained these words:</p> + +<br /> + +<p>'<span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Oakly</span>—I don't know why you have quarrelled +with us; I am very sorry for it. But though you are angry +with me, I am not angry with you. I hope you will not +refuse some of my Brobdingnag raspberry-plants, which you +asked for a great while ago, when we were all good friends. +It was not the right time of the year to plant them, which was +the reason they were not sent to you; but it is just the right +time to plant them now; and I send you the book, in which +you will find the reason why we always put seaweed ashes +about their roots; and I have got some seaweed ashes for you. +You will find the ashes in the flower-pot upon the wall. I +have never spoken to Arthur, nor he to me, since you bid us +not. So, wishing your Brobdingnag raspberries may turn out +as well as ours, and longing to be all friends again, I am, with +love to dear Arthur and self, your affectionate neighbour's +son,<span class="smcap" style="float:right">Maurice Grant.</span></p> + +<p>'P.S.—It is now about four months since the quarrel +began, and that is a very long while.'</p> + +<br /> + +<p>A great part of the effect of this letter was lost upon Oakly, +because he was not very expert in reading writing, and it cost +him much trouble to spell it and put it together. However, +he seemed affected by it, and said, 'I believe this Maurice +loves you well enough, Arthur, and he seems a good sort of +boy; but as to the raspberries, I believe all that he says about +them is but an excuse; and, at any rate, as I could not get 'em +when I asked for them, I'll not have 'em now. Do you hear +me, I say, Arthur? What are you reading there?'</p> + +<p>Arthur was reading the page that was doubled down in the +book which Maurice had left along with the raspberry-plants +upon the wall. Arthur read aloud as follows:<span class="pagenum">[225]</span>—</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center">(<i>Monthly Magazine</i>, Dec. '98, p. 421.)<br /></p> + +<p>'There is a sort of strawberry cultivated at Jersey which +is almost covered with seaweed in the winter, in like manner +as many plants in England are with litter from the stable. +These strawberries are usually of the largeness of a middle-sized +apricot, and the flavour is particularly grateful. In +Jersey and Guernsey, situate scarcely one degree farther south +than Cornwall, all kinds of fruit, pulse, and vegetables are +produced in their seasons a fortnight or three weeks sooner +than in England, even on the southern shores; and snow will +scarcely remain twenty-four hours on the earth. Although this +may be attributed to these islands being surrounded with a +salt, and consequently a moist atmosphere, yet the ashes +(seaweed ashes) made use of as manure may also have their +portion of influence.'<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">12</a></p> + +<p>'And here,' continued Arthur, 'is something written with a +pencil, on a slip of paper, and it is Maurice's writing. I will +read it to you.</p> + +<p>'When I read in this book what is said about the strawberries +growing as large as apricots, after they had been +covered over with seaweed, I thought that perhaps seaweed +ashes might be good for my father's raspberries; and I asked +him if he would give me leave to try them. He gave me leave, +and I went directly and gathered together some seaweed that +had been cast on shore; and I dried it, and burned it, and +then I manured the raspberries with it, and the year afterwards +the raspberries grew to the size that you have seen. Now, the +reason I tell you this is, first, that you may know how to +manage your raspberries, and next, because I remember you +looked very grave, as if you were not pleased with my father, +Mr. Grant, when he told you that the way by which he came +by his Brobdingnag raspberries was a secret. Perhaps this +was the thing that has made you so angry with us all; for you +never have come to see father since that evening. Now I have +told you all I know; and so I hope you will not be angry with +us any longer.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Oakly was much pleased by this openness, and said, +'Why now, Arthur, this is something like, this is telling one +<span class="pagenum">[226]</span>the thing one wants to know, without fine speeches. This is +like an Englishman more than a Scotchman. Pray, Arthur, do +you know whether your friend Maurice was born in England +or in Scotland?'</p> + +<p>'No, indeed, sir, I don't know—I never asked—I did not +think it signified. All I know is that, wherever he was born, +he is <i>very</i> good. Look, papa, my tulip is blowing.' 'Upon +my word,' said his father, 'this will be a beautiful tulip!' +'It was given to me by Maurice.' 'And did you give him +nothing for it?' was the father's inquiry. 'Nothing in the +world; and he gave it to me just at the time when he had +good cause to be angry with me, just when I had broken his +bell-glass.'</p> + +<p>'I have a great mind to let you play together again,' said +Arthur's father. 'Oh, if you would,' cried Arthur, clapping +his hands, 'how happy we should be! Do you know, father, +I have often sat for an hour at a time up in that crab-tree, +looking at Maurice at work in his garden, and wishing that I +was at work with him.'</p> + +<p>Here Arthur was interrupted by the attorney, who came to +ask Mr. Oakly some question about the lawsuit concerning the +plum-tree. Oakly showed him Maurice's letter; and to Arthur's +extreme astonishment, the attorney had no sooner read it than +he exclaimed, 'What an artful little gentleman this is! I never, +in the course of all my practice, met with anything better. +Why, this is the most cunning letter I ever read.' 'Where's +the cunning?' said Oakly, and he put on his spectacles. 'My +good sir, don't you see that all this stuff about Brobdingnag +raspberries is to ward off your suit about the plum-tree? They +know—that is, Mr. Grant, who is sharp enough, knows—that +he will be worsted in that suit; that he must, in short, pay +you a good round sum for damages, if it goes on——'</p> + +<p>'Damages!' said Oakly, staring round him at the plum-tree; +'but I don't know what you mean. I mean nothing but +what's honest. I don't mean to ask for any good round sum; +for the plum-tree has done me no great harm by coming into +my garden; but only I don't choose it should come there without +my leave.'</p> + +<p>'Well, well,' said the attorney, 'I understand all that; but +what I want to make you, Mr. Oakly, understand is, that this +Grant and his son only want to make up matters with you, and<span class="pagenum">[227]</span> +prevent the thing's coming to a fair trial, by sending you, in +this underhand sort of way, a bribe of a few raspberries.'</p> + +<p>'A bribe!' exclaimed Oakly, 'I never took a bribe, and I +never will'; and, with sudden indignation, he pulled the +raspberry plants from the ground in which Arthur was planting +them; and he threw them over the wall into Grant's garden.</p> + +<p>Maurice had put his tulip, which was beginning to blow, in +a flower-pot, on the top of the wall, in hopes that his friend +Arthur would see it from day to day. Alas! he knew not in +what a dangerous situation he had placed it. One of his own +Brobdingnag raspberry-plants, swung by the angry arm of +Oakly, struck off the head of his precious tulip! Arthur, who +was full of the thought of convincing his father that the attorney +was mistaken in his judgment of poor Maurice, did not observe +the fall of the tulip.</p> + +<p>The next day, when Maurice saw his raspberry-plants +scattered upon the ground, and his favourite tulip broken, he +was in much astonishment, and, for some moments, angry; +but anger, with him, never lasted long. He was convinced +that all this must be owing to some accident or mistake. He +could not believe that any one could be so malicious as to injure +him on purpose—'And even if they did all this on purpose to +vex me,' said he to himself, 'the best thing I can do is not to +let it vex me. Forgive and forget.' This temper of mind +Maurice was more happy in enjoying than he could have been +made, without it, by the possession of all the tulips in Holland.</p> + +<p>Tulips were, at this time, things of great consequence in the +estimation of the country several miles round where Maurice +and Arthur lived. There was a florist's feast to be held at the +neighbouring town, at which a prize of a handsome set of +gardening tools was to be given to the person who could produce +the finest flower of its kind. A tulip was the flower which +was thought the finest the preceding year, and consequently +numbers of people afterwards endeavoured to procure tulip-roots, +in hopes of obtaining the prize this year. Arthur's tulip +was beautiful. As he examined it from day to day, and every +day thought it improving, he longed to thank his friend Maurice +for it; and he often mounted into his crab-tree, to look into +Maurice's garden, in hopes of seeing his tulip also in full bloom +and beauty. He never could see it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i021f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i021t.jpg" alt="i021"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>When Maurice saw his raspberry-plants scattered upon the ground, and his +favourite tulip broken, he was in much astonishment.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>The day of the florist's feast arrived, and Oakly went with<span class="pagenum">[229]</span> +his son and the fine tulip to the place of meeting. It was on +a spacious bowling-green. All the flowers of various sorts +were ranged upon a terrace at the upper end of the bowling-green; +and, amongst all this gay variety, the tulip which +Maurice had given to Arthur appeared conspicuously beautiful. +To the owner of this tulip the prize was adjudged; and, as the +handsome garden-tools were delivered to Arthur, he heard a +well-known voice wish him joy. He turned, looked about +him, and saw his friend Maurice.</p> + +<p>'But, Maurice, where is your own tulip?' said Mr. Oakly; +'I thought, Arthur, you told me that he kept one for himself.' +'So I did,' said Maurice; 'but somebody (I suppose by accident) +broke it.' 'Somebody! who?' cried Arthur and Mr. +Oakly at once. 'Somebody who threw the raspberry-plants +back again over the wall,' replied Maurice. 'That was me—that +somebody was me,' said Oakly. 'I scorn to deny it; but +I did not intend to break your tulip, Maurice.'</p> + +<p>'Dear Maurice,' said Arthur—'you know I may call him +dear Maurice—now you are by, papa; here are all the garden-tools; +take them, and welcome.' 'Not one of them,' said +Maurice, drawing back. 'Offer them to the father—offer +them to Mr. Grant,' whispered Oakly; 'he'll take them, I'll +answer for it.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Oakly was mistaken: the father would not accept of +the tools. Mr. Oakly stood surprised—'Certainly,' said he to +himself, 'this cannot be such a miser as I took him for'; and +he walked immediately up to Grant, and bluntly said to him, +'Mr. Grant, your son has behaved very handsomely to my son, +and you seem to be glad of it.' 'To be sure I am,' said Grant. +'Which,' continued Oakly, 'gives me a better opinion of you +than ever I had before—I mean, than ever I had since the day +you sent me the shabby answer about those foolish, what d'ye +call 'em, cursed raspberries.'</p> + +<p>'What shabby answer?' said Grant, with surprise; and +Oakly repeated exactly the message which he received; and +Grant declared that he never sent any such message. He +repeated exactly the answer which he really sent, and Oakly +immediately stretched out his hand to him, saying, 'I believe +you; no more need be said. I'm only sorry I did not ask you +about this four months ago; and so I should have done if you +had not been a Scotchman. Till now, I never rightly liked a<span class="pagenum">[230]</span> +Scotchman. We may thank this good little fellow,' continued +he, turning to Maurice, 'for our coming at last to a right +understanding. There was no holding out against his good +nature. I'm sure, from the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry I +broke his tulip. Shake hands, boys; I'm glad to see you, +Arthur, look so happy again, and hope Mr. Grant will forgive——' +'Oh, forgive and forget,' said Grant and his son +at the same moment. And from this time forward the two +families lived in friendship with each other.</p> + +<p>Oakly laughed at his own folly, in having been persuaded +to go to law about the plum-tree; and he, in process of time, +so completely conquered his early prejudice against Scotchmen, +that he and Grant became partners in business. Mr. Grant's +book-<i>larning</i> and knowledge of arithmetic he found highly +useful to him; and he, on his side, possessed a great many +active, good qualities, which became serviceable to his partner.</p> + +<p>The two boys rejoiced in this family union; and Arthur +often declared that they owed all their happiness to Maurice's +favourite maxim, 'Forgive and Forget.'</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[231]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="WASTE_NOT_WANT_NOT" id="WASTE_NOT_WANT_NOT"></a>WASTE NOT, WANT NOT;<br /> +OR,<br /> +TWO STRINGS TO YOUR BOW</h2> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">Mr. Gresham</span>, a Bristol merchant, who had, by honourable +industry and economy, accumulated a considerable fortune, +retired from business to a new house which he had built +upon the Downs, near Clifton. Mr. Gresham, however, did not +imagine that a new house alone could make him happy. He +did not propose to live in idleness and extravagance; for such +a life would have been equally incompatible with his habits and +his principles. He was fond of children; and as he had no +sons, he determined to adopt one of his relations. He had +two nephews, and he invited both of them to his house, that +he might have an opportunity of judging of their dispositions, +and of the habits which they had acquired.</p> + +<p>Hal and Benjamin, Mr. Gresham's nephews, were about ten +years old. They had been educated very differently. Hal +was the son of the elder branch of the family. His father was +a gentleman, who spent rather more than he could afford; +and Hal, from the example of the servants in his father's +family, with whom he had passed the first years of his childhood, +learned to waste more of everything than he used. He +had been told that 'gentlemen should be above being careful +and saving'; and he had unfortunately imbibed a notion that +extravagance was the sign of a generous disposition, and +economy of an avaricious one.</p> + +<p>Benjamin, on the contrary, had been taught habits of care +and foresight. His father had but a very small fortune, and<span class="pagenum">[232]</span> +was anxious that his son should early learn that economy +ensures independence, and sometimes puts it in the power of +those who are not very rich to be very generous.</p> + +<p>The morning after these two boys arrived at their uncle's +they were eager to see all the rooms in the house. Mr. +Gresham accompanied them, and attended to their remarks +and exclamations.</p> + +<p>'Oh! what an excellent motto!' exclaimed Ben, when he +read the following words, which were written in large characters +over the chimneypiece in his uncle's spacious kitchen—</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center">'WASTE NOT, WANT NOT.'</p> + +<br /> + +<p>'"Waste not, want not!"' repeated his cousin Hal, in +rather a contemptuous tone; 'I think it looks stingy to servants; +and no gentleman's servants, cooks especially, would like to +have such a mean motto always staring them in the face.' +Ben, who was not so conversant as his cousin in the ways of +cooks and gentlemen's servants, made no reply to these +observations.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gresham was called away whilst his nephews were +looking at the other rooms in the house. Some time afterwards, +he heard their voices in the hall.</p> + +<p>'Boys,' said he, 'what are you doing there?' 'Nothing, +sir,' said Hal; 'you were called away from us and we did not +know which way to go.' 'And have you nothing to do?' said +Mr. Gresham. 'No, sir, nothing,' answered Hal, in a careless +tone, like one who was well content with the state of habitual +idleness. 'No, sir, nothing!' replied Ben, in a voice of +lamentation. 'Come,' said Mr. Gresham, 'if you have nothing +to do, lads, will you unpack those two parcels for me?'</p> + +<p>The two parcels were exactly alike, both of them well tied +up with good whipcord. Ben took his parcel to a table, and, +after breaking off the sealing-wax, began carefully to examine +the knot, and then to untie it. Hal stood still, exactly in the +spot where the parcel was put into his hands, and tried, first at +one corner and then at another, to pull the string off by force. +'I wish these people wouldn't tie up their parcels so tight, as if +they were never to be undone,' cried he, as he tugged at the +cord; and he pulled the knot closer instead of loosening it.</p> + +<p>'Ben! why, how did you get yours undone, man? what's in<span class="pagenum">[233]</span> +your parcel?—I wonder what is in mine! I wish I could get +this string off—I must cut it.'</p> + +<p>'Oh no,' said Ben, who now had undone the last knot of his +parcel, and who drew out the length of string with exultation, +'don't cut it, Hal,—look what a nice cord this is, and yours is +the same; it's a pity to cut it; "<i>Waste not, want not!</i>" you +know.'</p> + +<p>'Pooh!' said Hal, 'what signifies a bit of packthread?' +'It is whipcord,' said Ben. 'Well, whipcord! what signifies +a bit of whipcord! you can get a bit of whipcord twice as +long as that for twopence; and who cares for twopence? Not +I, for one! so here it goes,' cried Hal, drawing out his knife; +and he cut the cord, precipitately, in sundry places.</p> + +<p>'Lads, have you undone the parcels for me?' said Mr. +Gresham, opening the parlour door as he spoke. 'Yes, sir,' +cried Hal; and he dragged off his half-cut, half-entangled +string—'here's the parcel.' 'And here's my parcel, uncle; +and here's the string,' said Ben. 'You may keep the string +for your pains,' said Mr. Gresham. 'Thank you, sir,' said +Ben; 'what an excellent whipcord it is!' 'And you, Hal,' +continued Mr. Gresham, 'you may keep your string too, if it +will be of any use to you.' 'It will be of no use to me, thank +you, sir,' said Hal. 'No, I am afraid not, if this be it,' said +his uncle, taking up the jagged knotted remains of Hal's +cord.</p> + +<p>A few days after this, Mr. Gresham gave to each of his +nephews a new top.</p> + +<p>'But how's this?' said Hal; 'these tops have no strings; +what shall we do for strings?' 'I have a string that will do +very well for mine,' said Ben; and he pulled out of his pocket +the fine, long, smooth string which had tied up the parcel. +With this he soon set up his top, which spun admirably well.</p> + +<p>'Oh, how I wish I had but a string,' said Hal. 'What +shall I do for a string? I'll tell you what, I can use the string +that goes round my hat!' 'But then,' said Ben, 'what will +you do for a hat-band?' 'I'll manage to do without one,' +said Hal, and he took the string off his hat for his top. It +soon was worn through; and he split his top by driving the +peg too tightly into it. His cousin Ben let him set up his the +next day; but Hal was not more fortunate or more careful +when he meddled with other people's things than when he<span class="pagenum">[234]</span> +managed his own. He had scarcely played half an hour +before he split it, by driving the peg too violently.</p> + +<p>Ben bore this misfortune with good humour. 'Come,' said +he, 'it can't be helped; but give me the string, because <i>that</i> +may still be of use for something else.'</p> + +<p>It happened some time afterwards that a lady, who had +been intimately acquainted with Hal's mother at Bath—that is +to say, who had frequently met her at the card-table during the +winter—now arrived at Clifton. She was informed by his +mother that Hal was at Mr. Gresham's, and her sons, who were +<i>friends</i> of his, came to see him, and invited him to spend the +next day with them.</p> + +<p>Hal joyfully accepted the invitation. He was always glad +to go out to dine, because it gave him something to do, something +to think of, or at least something to say. Besides this, +he had been educated to think it was a fine thing to visit fine +people; and Lady Diana Sweepstakes (for that was the name +of his mother's acquaintance) was a very fine lady, and her two +sons intended to be very <i>great</i> gentlemen. He was in a +prodigious hurry when these young gentlemen knocked at his +uncle's door the next day; but just as he got to the hall door, +little Patty called to him from the top of the stairs, and told +him that he had dropped his pocket-handkerchief.</p> + +<p>'Pick it up, then, and bring it to me, quick, can't you, +child?' cried Hal, 'for Lady Di's sons are waiting for me.'</p> + +<p>Little Patty did not know anything about Lady Di's sons; +but as she was very good-natured, and saw that her cousin +Hal was, for some reason or other, in a desperate hurry, she +ran downstairs as fast as she possibly could towards the landing-place, +where the handkerchief lay; but, alas! before she +reached the handkerchief, she fell, rolling down a whole flight +of stairs, and when her fall was at last stopped by the landing-place, +she did not cry out, she writhed, as if she was in great +pain.</p> + +<p>'Where are you hurt, my love?' said Mr. Gresham, who +came instantly, on hearing the noise of some one falling downstairs. +'Where are you hurt, my dear?'</p> + +<p>'Here, papa,' said the little girl, touching her ankle, which +she had decently covered with her gown. 'I believe I am +hurt here, but not much,' added she, trying to rise; 'only it +hurts me when I move.' 'I'll carry you; don't move then,' +<span class="pagenum">[235]</span> +said her father, and he took her up in his arms. 'My shoe! +I've lost one of my shoes,' said she.</p> + +<p>Ben looked for it upon the stairs, and he found it sticking in +a loop of whipcord, which was entangled round one of the +banisters. When this cord was drawn forth, it appeared that +it was the very same jagged, entangled piece which Hal had +pulled off his parcel. He had diverted himself with running +up and down stairs, whipping the banisters with it, as he +thought he could convert it to no better use; and, with his +usual carelessness, he at last left it hanging just where he +happened to throw it when the dinner bell rang. Poor little +Patty's ankle was terribly strained, and Hal reproached himself +for his folly, and would have reproached himself longer, +perhaps, if Lady Di Sweepstakes' sons had not hurried him +away.</p> + +<p>In the evening, Patty could not run about as she used to +do; but she sat upon the sofa, and she said that she did not +feel the pain of her ankle <i>so much</i> whilst Ben was so good as +to play at <i>jack straws</i> with her.</p> + +<p>'That's right, Ben; never be ashamed of being good-natured +to those who are younger and weaker than yourself,' +said his uncle, smiling at seeing him produce his whipcord, to +indulge his little cousin with a game at her favourite cat's +cradle. 'I shall not think you one bit less manly, because I +see you playing at cat's cradle with a little child of six years +old.'</p> + +<p>Hal, however, was not precisely of his uncle's opinion; for +when he returned in the evening, and saw Ben playing with +his little cousin, he could not help smiling contemptuously, and +asked if he had been playing at cat's cradle all night. In a +heedless manner he made some inquiries after Patty's sprained +ankle, and then he ran on to tell all the news he had heard at +Lady Diana Sweepstakes'—news which he thought would make +him appear a person of vast importance.</p> + +<p>'Do you know, uncle—do you know, Ben,' said he, 'there's +to be the most <i>famous</i> doings that ever were heard of upon the +Downs here, the first day of next month, which will be in a +fortnight, thank my stars! I wish the fortnight was over; I +shall think of nothing else, I know, till that happy day comes!'</p> + +<p>Mr. Gresham inquired why the first of September was to be +so much happier than any other day in the year. 'Why,' replied Hal, 'Lady Diana Sweepstakes, you know, is a <i>famous</i> +rider, and archer, and <i>all that</i>——' 'Very likely,' said Mr. +Gresham, soberly; 'but what then?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i022f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i022t.jpg" alt="i022"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>Playing at cat's cradle.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>'Dear uncle!' cried Hal, 'but you shall hear. There's to +be a race upon the Downs on the first of September, and after +the race, there's to be an archery meeting for the ladies, and +Lady Diana Sweepstakes is to be one of <i>them</i>. And after the +ladies have done shooting—now, Ben, comes the best part of +it!—we boys are to have our turn, and Lady Di is to give a +prize to the best marksman amongst us, of a very handsome +bow and arrow. Do you know, I've been practising already, +and I'll show you, to-morrow, as soon as it comes home, the<span class="pagenum">[237]</span> +<i>famous</i> bow and arrow that Lady Diana has given me; but, +perhaps,' added he, with a scornful laugh, 'you like a cat's +cradle better than a bow and arrow.'</p> + +<p>Ben made no reply to this taunt at the moment; but the +next day, when Hal's new bow and arrow came home, he convinced +him that he knew how to use it very well.</p> + +<p>'Ben,' said his uncle, 'you seem to be a good marksman, +though you have not boasted of yourself. I'll give you a bow +and arrow, and, perhaps, if you practise, you may make yourself +an archer before the first of September; and, in the meantime, +you will not wish the fortnight to be over, for you will +have something to do.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, sir,' interrupted Hal, 'but if you mean that Ben should +put in for the prize, he must have a uniform.' 'Why <i>must</i> +he?' said Mr. Gresham. 'Why, sir, because everybody has—I +mean everybody that's anybody; and Lady Diana was talking +about the uniform all dinner time, and it's settled, all about it, +except the buttons: the young Sweepstakes are to get theirs +made first for patterns—they are to be white, faced with green, +and they'll look very handsome, I'm sure; and I shall write to +mamma to-night, as Lady Diana bid me, about mine; and I +shall tell her to be sure to answer my letter, without fail, by +return of post; and then, if mamma makes no objection, which +I know she won't, because she never thinks much about expense, +and <i>all that</i>—then I shall bespeak my uniform, and get it made +by the same tailor that makes for Lady Diana and the young +Sweepstakes.'</p> + +<p>'Mercy upon us!' said Mr. Gresham, who was almost +stunned by the rapid vociferation with which this long speech +about a uniform was pronounced. 'I don't pretend to understand +these things,' added he, with an air of simplicity; 'but +we will inquire, Ben, into the necessity of the case; and if it +is necessary—or, if you think it necessary, that you shall have +a uniform—why, I'll give you one.'</p> + +<p>'<i>You</i>, uncle? Will you, <i>indeed</i>?' exclaimed Hal, with +amazement painted in his countenance. 'Well that's the last +thing in the world I should have expected! You are not at all +the sort of person I should have thought would care about a +uniform; and now I should have supposed you'd have thought +it extravagant to have a coat on purpose only for one day; +and I'm sure Lady Diana Sweepstakes thought as I do;<span class="pagenum">[238]</span> +for when I told her of that motto over your kitchen chimney, +'<small>WASTE NOT, WANT NOT</small>,' she laughed, and said that I had +better not talk to you about uniforms, and that my mother was +the proper person to write to about my uniform; but I'll tell +Lady Diana, uncle, how good you are, and how much she was +mistaken.'</p> + +<p>'Take care how you do that,' said Mr. Gresham; 'for +perhaps the lady was not mistaken.' 'Nay, did not you say, +just now, you would give poor Ben a uniform?' 'I said I +would, if he thought it necessary to have one.' 'Oh, I'll answer +for it, he'll think it necessary,' said Hal, laughing, 'because it +is necessary.' 'Allow him, at least, to judge for himself,' said +Mr. Gresham. 'My dear uncle, but I assure you,' said Hal, +earnestly, 'there's no judging about the matter, because really, +upon my word, Lady Diana said distinctly that her sons were +to have uniforms, white faced with green, and a green and +white cockade in their hats.' 'May be so,' said Mr. Gresham, +still with the same look of calm simplicity; 'put on your hats, +boys, and come with me. I know a gentleman whose sons are +to be at this archery meeting, and we will inquire into all the +particulars from him. Then, after we have seen him (it is +not eleven o'clock yet), we shall have time enough to walk on +to Bristol, and choose the cloth for Ben's uniform, if it is +necessary.'</p> + +<p>'I cannot tell what to make of all he says,' whispered Hal, +as he reached down his hat; 'do you think, Ben, he means to +give you this uniform, or not?' 'I think,' said Ben, 'that +he means to give me one, if it is necessary; or, as he said, if +I think it is necessary.'</p> + +<p>'And that to be sure you will; won't you? or else you'll be +a great fool, I know, after all I've told you. How can any one +in the world know so much about the matter as I, who have +dined with Lady Diana Sweepstakes but yesterday, and heard +all about it from beginning to end? And as for this gentleman +that we are going to, I'm sure, if he knows anything about the +matter, he'll say exactly the same as I do.' 'We shall hear,' +said Ben, with a degree of composure which Hal could by no +means comprehend when a uniform was in question.</p> + +<p>The gentleman upon whom Mr. Gresham called had three +sons, who were all to be at this archery meeting; and they unanimously +assured him, in the presence of Hal and Ben, that<span class="pagenum">[239]</span> +they had never thought of buying uniforms for this grand +occasion, and that, amongst the number of their acquaintance, +they knew of but three boys whose friends intended to be at +such an <i>unnecessary</i> expense. Hal stood amazed.</p> + +<p>'Such are the varieties of opinion upon all the grand affairs +of life,' said Mr. Gresham, looking at his nephews. 'What +amongst one set of people you hear asserted to be absolutely +necessary, you will hear from another set of people is quite +unnecessary. All that can be done, my dear boys, in these +difficult cases, is to judge for yourselves which opinions and +which people are the most reasonable.'</p> + +<p>Hal, who had been more accustomed to think of what was +fashionable than of what was reasonable, without at all considering +the good sense of what his uncle said to him, replied, +with childish petulance, 'Indeed, sir, I don't know what other +people think; but I only know what Lady Diana Sweepstakes +said.' The name of Lady Diana Sweepstakes, Hal thought, +must impress all present with respect; he was highly astonished +when, as he looked round, he saw a smile of contempt upon +every one's countenance; and he was yet further bewildered +when he heard her spoken of as a very silly, extravagant, +ridiculous woman, whose opinion no prudent person would ask +upon any subject, and whose example was to be shunned +instead of being imitated.</p> + +<p>'Ay, my dear Hal,' said his uncle, smiling at his look of +amazement, 'these are some of the things that young people +must learn from experience. All the world do not agree in +opinion about characters: you will hear the same person admired +in one company and blamed in another; so that we +must still come round to the same point, <i>Judge for yourself</i>.'</p> + +<p>Hal's thoughts were, however, at present too full of the +uniform to allow his judgment to act with perfect impartiality. +As soon as their visit was over, and all the time they walked +down the hill from Prince's Buildings towards Bristol, he continued +to repeat nearly the same arguments which he had +formerly used respecting necessity, the uniform, and Lady +Diana Sweepstakes. To all this Mr. Gresham made no reply, +and longer had the young gentleman expatiated upon the subject, +which had so strongly seized upon his imagination, had not his +senses been forcibly assailed at this instant by the delicious +odours and tempting sight of certain cakes and jellies in a<span class="pagenum">[240]</span> +pastrycook's shop. 'Oh, uncle,' said he, as his uncle was +going to turn the corner to pursue the road to Bristol, 'look at +those jellies!' pointing to a confectioner's shop. 'I must buy +some of those good things, for I have got some halfpence in +my pocket.' 'Your having halfpence in your pocket is an +excellent reason for eating,' said Mr. Gresham, smiling. 'But +I really am hungry,' said Hal; 'you know, uncle, it is a good +while since breakfast.'</p> + +<p>His uncle, who was desirous to see his nephews act without +restraint, that he might judge their characters, bid them do as +they pleased.</p> + +<p>'Come, then, Ben, if you've any halfpence in your pocket.' +'I'm not hungry,' said Ben. 'I suppose <i>that</i> means that you've +no halfpence,' said Hal, laughing, with the look of superiority +which he had been taught to think <i>the rich</i> might assume +towards those who were convicted either of poverty or economy. +'Waste not, want not,' said Ben to himself. Contrary to his +cousin's surmise, he happened to have two pennyworth of halfpence +actually in his pocket.</p> + +<p>At the very moment Hal stepped into the pastrycook's shop, +a poor, industrious man, with a wooden leg, who usually sweeps +the dirty corner of the walk which turns at this spot to the +Wells, held his hat to Ben, who, after glancing his eye at the +petitioner's well-worn broom, instantly produced his twopence. +'I wish I had more halfpence for you, my good man,' said he; +'but I've only twopence.'</p> + +<p>Hal came out of Mr. Millar's, the confectioner's shop, with +a hatful of cakes in his hand. Mr. Millar's dog was sitting on +the flags before the door, and he looked up with a wistful, +begging eye at Hal, who was eating a queen-cake. Hal, who +was wasteful even in his good-nature, threw a whole queen-cake +to the dog, who swallowed it for a single mouthful.</p> + +<p>'There goes twopence in the form of a queen-cake,' said +Mr. Gresham.</p> + +<p>Hal next offered some of his cakes to his uncle and cousin; +but they thanked him, and refused to eat any, because, they +said, they were not hungry; so he ate and ate as he walked +along, till at last he stopped and said, 'This bun tastes so bad +after the queen-cakes, I can't bear it!' and he was going to +fling it from him into the river. 'Oh, it is a pity to waste that +good bun; we may be glad of it yet,' said Ben; 'give it me<span class="pagenum">[241]</span> +rather than throw it away.' 'Why, I thought you said you +were not hungry,' said Hal. 'True, I am not hungry now; +but that is no reason why I should never be hungry again.' +'Well, there is the cake for you. Take it; for it has made me +sick, and I don't care what becomes of it.'</p> + +<p>Ben folded the refuse bit of his cousin's bun in a piece of +paper, and put it into his pocket.</p> + +<p>'I'm beginning to be exceeding tired or sick or something,' +said Hal; 'and as there is a stand of coaches somewhere hereabouts, +had we not better take a coach, instead of walking all +the way to Bristol?'</p> + +<p>'For a stout archer,' said Mr. Gresham, 'you are more +easily tired than one might have expected. However, with all +my heart, let us take a coach, for Ben asked me to show him +the cathedral yesterday; and I believe I should find it rather +too much for me to walk so far, though I am not sick with eating +good things.'</p> + +<p>'<i>The cathedral!</i>' said Hal, after he had been seated in the +coach about a quarter of an hour, and had somewhat recovered +from his sickness—'the cathedral! Why, are we only going +to Bristol to see the cathedral? I thought we came out to see +about a uniform.'</p> + +<p>There was a dulness and melancholy kind of stupidity in +Hal's countenance as he pronounced these words, like one +wakening from a dream, which made both his uncle and his +cousin burst out a-laughing.</p> + +<p>'Why,' said Hal, who was now piqued, 'I'm sure you <i>did</i> +say, uncle, you would go to Mr. Hall's to choose the cloth for +the uniform.' 'Very true, and so I will,' said Mr. Gresham; +'but we need not make a whole morning's work, need we, of +looking at a piece of cloth? Cannot we see a uniform and a +cathedral both in one morning?'</p> + +<p>They went first to the cathedral. Hal's head was too full +of the uniform to take any notice of the painted window, which +immediately caught Ben's embarrassed attention. He looked +at the large stained figures on the Gothic window, and he +observed their coloured shadows on the floor and walls.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gresham, who perceived that he was eager on all +subjects to gain information, took this opportunity of telling him +several things about the lost art of painting on glass, Gothic +arches, etc., which Hal thought extremely tiresome.<span class="pagenum">[242]</span></p> + +<p>'Come! come! we shall be late indeed,' said Hal; 'surely +you've looked long enough, Ben, at this blue and red window.' +'I'm only thinking about these coloured shadows,' said Ben. +'I can show you when we go home, Ben,' said his uncle, 'an +entertaining paper upon such shadows.'<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> 'Hark!' cried Ben, +'did you hear that noise?' They all listened; and they heard +a bird singing in the cathedral. 'It's our old robin, sir,' said +the lad who had opened the cathedral door for them.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Mr. Gresham, 'there he is, boys—look—perched +upon the organ; he often sits there, and sings, whilst the +organ is playing.' 'And,' continued the lad who showed the +cathedral, 'he has lived here these many, many winters. They +say he is fifteen years old; and he is so tame, poor fellow! that +if I had a bit of bread he'd come down and feed in my hand.' +'I've a bit of bun here,' cried Ben joyfully, producing the +remains of the bun which Hal but an hour before would have +thrown away. 'Pray, let us see the poor robin eat out of your +hand.'</p> + +<p>The lad crumbled the bun, and called to the robin, who fluttered +and chirped, and seemed rejoiced at the sight of the bread; +but yet he did not come down from his pinnacle on the organ.</p> + +<p>'He is afraid of <i>us</i>,' said Ben; 'he is not used to eat before +strangers, I suppose.'</p> + +<p>'Ah, no, sir,' said the young man, with a deep sigh, 'that is +not the thing. He is used enough to eat afore company. Time +was he'd have come down for me before ever so many fine folks, +and have eat his crumbs out of my hand, at my first call; but, +poor fellow! it's not his fault now. He does not know me now, +sir, since my accident, because of this great black patch.' The +young man put his hand to his right eye, which was covered +with a huge black patch. Ben asked what <i>accident</i> he meant; +and the lad told him that, but a few weeks ago, he had lost the +sight of his eye by the stroke of a stone, which reached him as +he was passing under the rocks at Clifton, unluckily when the +workmen were blasting. 'I don't mind so much for myself, +sir,' said the lad; 'but I can't work so well now, as I used to do +before my accident, for my old mother, who has had a <i>stroke</i> +of the palsy; and I've a many little brothers and sisters not +well able yet to get their own livelihood, though they be as +willing as willing can be.'</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[243]</span></p> +<p>'Where does your mother live?' said Mr. Gresham. +'Hard by, sir, just close to the church here: it was <i>her</i> that +always had the showing of it to strangers, till she lost the use +of her poor limbs.'</p> + +<p>'Shall we, may we, uncle, go that way? This is the house; +is not it?' said Ben, when they went out of the cathedral.</p> + +<p>They went into the house; it was rather a hovel than a +house; but, poor as it was, it was as neat as misery could make +it. The old woman was sitting up in her wretched bed, winding +worsted; four meagre, ill-clothed, pale children, were all +busy, some of them sticking pins in paper for the pin-maker, +and others sorting rags for the paper-maker.</p> + +<p>'What a horrid place it is!' said Hal, sighing; 'I did not +know there were such shocking places in the world. I've often +seen terrible-looking, tumble-down places, as we drove through +the town in mamma's carriage; but then I did not know who +lived in them; and I never saw the inside of any of them. It +is very dreadful, indeed, to think that people are forced to live +in this way. I wish mamma would send me some more pocket-money, +that I might do something for them. I had half a +crown; but,' continued he, feeling in his pockets, 'I'm afraid +I spent the last shilling of it this morning upon those cakes +that made me sick. I wish I had my shilling now, I'd give +it to <i>these poor people</i>.'</p> + +<p>Ben, though he was all this time silent, was as sorry as his +talkative cousin for all these poor people. But there was some +difference between the sorrow of these two boys.</p> + +<p>Hal, after he was again seated in the hackney-coach, and +had rattled through the busy streets of Bristol for a few +minutes, quite forgot the spectacle of misery which he had +seen; and the gay shops in Wine Street and the idea of his +green and white uniform wholly occupied his imagination.</p> + +<p>'Now for our uniforms!' cried he, as he jumped eagerly +out of the coach, when his uncle stopped at the woollen-draper's +door.</p> + +<p>'Uncle,' said Ben, stopping Mr. Gresham before he got out +of the carriage, 'I don't think a uniform is at all necessary for +me. I'm very much obliged to you; but I would rather not +have one. I have a very good coat, and I think it would be +waste.'</p> + +<p>'Well, let me get out of the carriage, and we will see about<span class="pagenum">[244]</span> +it,' said Mr. Gresham; 'perhaps the sight of the beautiful +green and white cloth, and the epaulette (have you ever considered +the epaulettes?) may tempt you to change your mind.' +'Oh no,' said Ben, laughing; 'I shall not change my +mind.'</p> + +<p>The green cloth, and the white cloth, and the epaulettes +were produced, to Hal's infinite satisfaction. His uncle took +up a pen, and calculated for a few minutes; then, showing the +back of the letter, upon which he was writing, to his nephews, +'Cast up these sums, boys,' said he, 'and tell me whether I +am right.' 'Ben, do you do it,' said Hal, a little embarrassed; +'I am not quick at figures.' Ben <i>was</i>, and he went over his +uncle's calculation very expeditiously.</p> + +<p>'It is right, is it?' said Mr. Gresham. 'Yes, sir, quite +right.' 'Then, by this calculation, I find I could, for less than +half the money your uniforms would cost, purchase for each of +you boys a warm greatcoat, which you will want, I have a +notion, this winter upon the Downs.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, sir,' said Hal, with an alarmed look; 'but it is not +winter <i>yet</i>; it is not cold weather <i>yet</i>. We shan't want greatcoats +<i>yet</i>.'</p> + +<p>'Don't you remember how cold we were, Hal, the day +before yesterday, in that sharp wind, when we were flying our +kite upon the Downs? and winter will come, though it is not +come yet—I am sure, I should like to have a good warm greatcoat +very much.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Gresham took six guineas out of his purse; and he +placed three of them before Hal, and three before Ben. +'Young gentlemen,' said he, 'I believe your uniforms would +come to about three guineas apiece. Now I will lay out this +money for you just as you please. Hal, what say you?' +'Why, sir,' said Hal, 'a greatcoat is a good thing, to be sure; +and then, after the greatcoat, as you said it would only cost +half as much as the uniform, there would be some money to +spare, would not there?' 'Yes, my dear, about five-and-twenty +shillings.' 'Five-and-twenty shillings?—I could buy +and do a great many things, to be sure, with five-and-twenty +shillings; but then, <i>the thing is</i>, I must go without the uniform, +if I have the greatcoat.' 'Certainly,' said his uncle. 'Ah!' +said Hal, sighing, as he looked at the epaulette, 'uncle, if you +would not be displeased, if I choose the uniform——' 'I<span class="pagenum">[245]</span> +shall not be displeased at your choosing whatever you like best,' +said Mr. Gresham.</p> + +<p>'Well, then, thank you, sir,' said Hal; 'I think I had better +have the uniform, because, if I have not the uniform, now, +directly, it will be of no use to me, as the archery meeting is +the week after next, you know; and, as to the greatcoat, +perhaps between this time and the <i>very</i> cold weather, which, +perhaps, won't be till Christmas, papa will buy a greatcoat for +me; and I'll ask mamma to give me some pocket-money to +give away, and she will, perhaps.' To all this conclusive, +conditional reasoning, which depended upon the word <i>perhaps</i>, +three times repeated, Mr. Gresham made no reply; but he +immediately bought the uniform for Hal, and desired that it +should be sent to Lady Diana Sweepstakes' son's tailor, to be +made up. The measure of Hal's happiness was now complete.</p> + +<p>'And how am I to lay out the three guineas for you, Ben?' +said Mr. Gresham; 'speak, what do you wish for first?' 'A +greatcoat, uncle, if you please.' Mr. Gresham bought the +coat; and, after it was paid for, five-and-twenty shillings of +Ben's three guineas remained. 'What next, my boy?' said +his uncle. 'Arrows, uncle, if you please; three arrows.' +'My dear, I promised you a bow and arrows.' 'No, uncle, +you only said a bow.' 'Well, I meant a bow and arrows. +I'm glad you are so exact, however. It is better to claim less +than more than what is promised. The three arrows you shall +have. But go on; how shall I dispose of these five-and-twenty +shillings for you?' 'In clothes, if you will be so good, uncle, +for that poor boy who has the great black patch on his eye.'</p> + +<p>'I always believed,' said Mr. Gresham, shaking hands with +Ben, 'that economy and generosity were the best friends, +instead of being enemies, as some silly, extravagant people +would have us think them. Choose the poor, blind boy's coat, +my dear nephew, and pay for it. There's no occasion for my +praising you about the matter. Your best reward is in your +own mind, child; and you want no other, or I'm mistaken. +Now, jump into the coach, boys, and let's be off. We shall +be late, I'm afraid,' continued he, as the coach drove on; 'but +I must let you stop, Ben, with your goods, at the poor boy's +door.'</p> + +<p>When they came to the house, Mr. Gresham opened the +coach door, and Ben jumped out with his parcel under his arm.<span class="pagenum">[246]</span></p> + +<p>'Stay, stay! you must take me with you,' said his pleased +uncle; 'I like to see people made happy as well as you do.' +'And so do I, too,' said Hal; 'let me come with you. I +almost wish my uniform was not gone to the tailor's, so I do.' +And when he saw the look of delight and gratitude with which +the poor boy received the clothes which Ben gave him, and +when he heard the mother and children thank him, Hal sighed, +and said, 'Well, I hope mamma will give me some more pocket-money +soon.'</p> + +<p>Upon his return home, however, the sight of the <i>famous</i> bow +and arrow, which Lady Diana Sweepstakes had sent him, +recalled to his imagination all the joys of his green and white +uniform; and he no longer wished that it had not been sent to +the tailor's. 'But I don't understand, Cousin Hal,' said little +Patty, 'why you call this bow a <i>famous</i> bow. You say <i>famous</i> +very often; and I don't know exactly what it means; a <i>famous</i> +uniform—<i>famous</i> doings. I remember you said there are to +be <i>famous</i> doings, the first of September, upon the Downs. +What does <i>famous</i> mean?' 'Oh, why, <i>famous</i> means—now, +don't you know what <i>famous</i> means? It means—it is a word +that people say—it is the fashion to say it—it means—it means +<i>famous</i>.' Patty laughed, and said, '<i>This</i> does not explain it +to me.'</p> + +<p>'No,' said Hal, 'nor can it be explained: if you don't +understand it, that's not my fault. Everybody but little +children, I suppose, understands it; but there's no explaining +<i>those sort</i> of words, if you don't <i>take them</i> at once. There's to +be <i>famous</i> doings upon the Downs, the first of September; that +is grand, fine. In short, what does it signify talking any longer, +Patty, about the matter? Give me my bow, for I must go out +upon the Downs and practise.'</p> + +<p>Ben accompanied him with the bow and the three arrows +which his uncle had now given to him; and, every day, these +two boys went out upon the Downs and practised shooting with +indefatigable perseverance. Where equal pains are taken, +success is usually found to be pretty nearly equal. Our two +archers, by constant practice, became expert marksmen; and +before the day of trial, they were so exactly matched in point +of dexterity, that it was scarcely possible to decide which was +superior.</p> + +<p>The long-expected 1st of September at length arrived.<span class="pagenum">[247]</span> +'What sort of a day is it?' was the first question that was +asked by Hal and Ben the moment that they wakened. The +sun shone bright, but there was a sharp and high wind. 'Ha!' +said Ben, 'I shall be glad of my good greatcoat to-day; for +I've a notion it will be rather cold upon the Downs, especially +when we are standing still, as we must, whilst all the people +are shooting.' 'Oh, never mind! I don't think I shall feel +it cold at all,' said Hal, as he dressed himself in his new +green and white uniform; and he viewed himself with much +complacency.</p> + +<p>'Good morning to you, uncle; how do you do?' said he, in +a voice of exultation, when he entered the breakfast-room. +How do you do? seemed rather to mean 'How do you like +me in my uniform?' And his uncle's cool 'Very well, I thank +you, Hal,' disappointed him, as it seemed only to say, 'Your +uniform makes no difference in my opinion of you.'</p> + +<p>Even little Patty went on eating her breakfast much as +usual, and talked of the pleasure of walking with her father to +the Downs, and of all the little things which interested her; +so that Hal's epaulettes were not the principal object in any +one's imagination but his own.</p> + +<p>'Papa,' said Patty, 'as we go up the hill where there is so +much red mud, I must take care to pick my way nicely; and +I must hold up my frock, as you desired me, and, perhaps, you +will be so good, if I am not troublesome, to lift me over the +very bad place where are no stepping-stones. My ankle is +entirely well, and I'm glad of that, or else I should not be able +to walk so far as the Downs. How good you were to me, +Ben, when I was in pain the day I sprained my ankle! You +played at jack straws and at cat's cradle with me. Oh, that +puts me in mind—here are your gloves which I asked you +that night to let me mend. I've been a great while about +them; but are not they very neatly mended, papa? Look +at the sewing.'</p> + +<p>'I am not a very good judge of sewing, my dear little girl,' +said Mr. Gresham, examining the work with a close and +scrupulous eye; 'but, in my opinion, here is one stitch that is +rather too long. The white teeth are not quite even.' 'Oh, +papa, I'll take out that long tooth in a minute,' said Patty, +laughing; 'I did not think that you would observe it so soon.'</p> + +<p>'I would not have you trust to my blindness,' said her<span class="pagenum">[248]</span> +father, stroking her head fondly; 'I observe everything. I +observe, for instance, that you are a grateful little girl, and +that you are glad to be of use to those who have been kind to +you; and for this I forgive you the long stitch.' 'But it's out, +it's out, papa,' said Patty; 'and the next time your gloves +want mending, Ben, I'll mend them better.'</p> + +<p>'They are very nice, I think,' said Ben, drawing them on; +'and I am much obliged to you. I was just wishing I had a +pair of gloves to keep my fingers warm to-day, for I never can +shoot well when my hands are benumbed. Look, Hal; you +know how ragged these gloves were; you said they were good +for nothing but to throw away; now look, there's not a hole in +them,' said he, spreading his fingers.</p> + +<p>'Now, is it not very extraordinary,' said Hal to himself, +'that they should go on so long talking about an old pair of +gloves, without saying scarcely a word about my new uniform? +Well, the young Sweepstakes and Lady Diana will talk enough +about it; that's one comfort. Is not it time to think of setting +out, sir?' said Hal to his uncle. 'The company, you know, +are to meet at the Ostrich at twelve, and the race to begin at +one, and Lady Diana's horses, I know, were ordered to be at +the door at ten.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Stephen, the butler, here interrupted the hurrying +young gentleman in his calculations. 'There's a poor lad, sir, +below, with a great black patch on his right eye, who is come +from Bristol, and wants to speak a word with the young +gentlemen, if you please. I told him they were just going out +with you; but he says he won't detain them more than half +a minute.'</p> + +<p>'Show him up, show him up,' said Mr. Gresham.</p> + +<p>'But, I suppose,' said Hal, with a sigh, 'that Stephen mistook, +when he said the young <i>gentlemen</i>; he only wants to see +Ben, I daresay; I'm sure he has no reason to want to see me.'</p> + +<p>'Here he comes—O Ben, he is dressed in the new coat +you gave him,' whispered Hal, who was really a good-natured +boy, though extravagant. 'How much better he looks than +he did in the ragged coat! Ah! he looked at you first, Ben—and +well he may!'</p> + +<p>The boy bowed, without any cringing civility, but with an +open, decent freedom in his manner, which expressed that he +had been obliged, but that he knew his young benefactor was<span class="pagenum">[249]</span> +not thinking of the obligation. He made as little distinction +as possible between his bows to the two cousins.</p> + +<p>'As I was sent with a message, by the clerk of our parish, +to Redland chapel out on the Downs, to-day, sir,' said he to +Mr. Gresham, 'knowing your house lay in my way, my mother, +sir, bid me call, and make bold to offer the young gentlemen +two little worsted balls that she has worked for them,' continued +the lad, pulling out of his pocket two worsted balls +worked in green and orange-coloured stripes. 'They are but +poor things, sir, she bid me say, to look at; but, considering +she has but one hand to work with, and <i>that</i> her left hand, +you'll not despise 'em, we hopes.' He held the balls to Ben +and Hal. 'They are both alike, gentlemen,' said he. 'If +you'll be pleased to take 'em, they're better than they look, for +they bound higher than your head. I cut the cork round for +the inside myself, which was all I could do.'</p> + +<p>'They are nice balls, indeed: we are much obliged to you,' +said the boys as they received them, and they proved them +immediately. The balls struck the floor with a delightful sound, +and rebounded higher than Mr. Gresham's head. Little Patty +clapped her hands joyfully. But now a thundering double rap +at the door was heard.</p> + +<p>'The Master Sweepstakes, sir,' said Stephen, 'are come for +Master Hal. They say that all the young gentlemen who have +archery uniforms are to walk together, in a body, I think they +say, sir; and they are to parade along the Well Walk, they +desired me to say, sir, with a drum and fife, and so up the hill +by Prince's Place, and all to go upon the Downs together, to +the place of meeting. I am not sure I'm right, sir; for both +the young gentlemen spoke at once, and the wind is very high +at the street door; so that I could not well make out all they +said; but I believe this is the sense of it.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, yes,' said Hal eagerly, 'it's all right. I know that +is just what was settled the day I dined at Lady Diana's; and +Lady Diana and a great party of gentlemen are to ride——'</p> + +<p>'Well, that is nothing to the purpose,' interrupted Mr. +Gresham. 'Don't keep these Master Sweepstakes waiting. +Decide—do you choose to go with them or with us?' 'Sir—uncle—sir, +you know, since all the <i>uniforms</i> agreed to go +together——' 'Off with you, then, Mr. Uniform, if you mean +to go,' said Mr. Gresham.<span class="pagenum">[250]</span></p> + +<p>Hal ran downstairs in such a hurry that he forgot his bow +and arrows. Ben discovered this when he went to fetch his +own; and the lad from Bristol, who had been ordered by Mr. +Gresham to eat his breakfast before he proceeded to Redland +Chapel, heard Ben talking about his cousin's bow and arrows. +'I know,' said Ben, 'he will be sorry not to have his bow with +him, because here are the green knots tied to it, to match his +cockade; and he said that the boys were all to carry their bows, +as part of the show.'</p> + +<p>'If you'll give me leave, sir,' said the poor Bristol lad, 'I +shall have plenty of time; and I'll run down to the Well +Walk after the young gentleman, and take him his bow and +arrows.'</p> + +<p>'Will you? I shall be much obliged to you,' said Ben; +and away went the boy with the bow that was ornamented +with green ribands.</p> + +<p>The public walk leading to the Wells was full of company. +The windows of all the houses in St. Vincent's Parade were +crowded with well-dressed ladies, who were looking out in expectation +of the archery procession. Parties of gentlemen and +ladies, and a motley crowd of spectators, were seen moving +backwards and forwards, under the rocks, on the opposite side +of the water. A barge, with coloured streamers flying, was +waiting to take up a party who were going upon the water. +The bargemen rested upon their oars, and gazed with broad +face of curiosity upon the busy scene that appeared upon the +public walk.</p> + +<p>The archers and archeresses were now drawn up on the +flags under the semicircular piazza just before Mrs. Yearsley's +library. A little band of children, who had been mustered by +Lady Diana Sweepstakes' <i>spirited exertions</i>, closed the procession. +They were now all in readiness. The drummer only +waited for her ladyship's signal; and the archers' corps only +waited for her ladyship's word of command to march.</p> + +<p>'Where are your bow and arrows, my little man?' said her +ladyship to Hal, as she reviewed her Lilliputian regiment. +'You can't march, man, without your arms?'</p> + +<p>Hal had despatched a messenger for his forgotten bow, but +the messenger returned not. He looked from side to side in +great distress—'Oh, there's my bow coming, I declare!' cried +he; 'look, I see the bow and the ribands. Look now, between<span class="pagenum">[251]</span> +the trees, Charles Sweepstakes, on the Hotwell Walk; it is +coming!' 'But you've kept us all waiting a confounded time,' +said his impatient friend. 'It is that good-natured poor fellow +from Bristol, I protest, that has brought it me; I'm sure I +don't deserve it from him,' said Hal to himself, when he saw +the lad with the black patch on his eye running, quite out of +breath, towards him, with his bow and arrows.</p> + +<p>'Fall back, my good friend—fall back,' said the military +lady, as soon as he had delivered the bow to Hal; 'I mean, +stand out of the way, for your great patch cuts no figure +amongst us. Don't follow so close, now, as if you belonged +to us, pray.'</p> + +<p>The poor boy had no ambition to partake the triumph; he +<i>fell back</i> as soon as he understood the meaning of the lady's +words. The drum beat, the fife played, the archers marched, +the spectators admired. Hal stepped proudly, and felt as if +the eyes of the whole universe were upon his epaulettes, or +upon the facings of his uniform; whilst all the time he was +considered only as part of a show.</p> + +<p>The walk appeared much shorter than usual, and he was +extremely sorry that Lady Diana, when they were half-way up +the hill leading to Prince's Place, mounted her horse, because +the road was dirty, and all the gentlemen and ladies who accompanied +her followed her example.</p> + +<p>'We can leave the children to walk, you know,' said she to +the gentleman who helped her to mount her horse. 'I must +call to some of them, though, and leave orders where they are +to <i>join</i>.'</p> + +<p>She beckoned: and Hal, who was foremost, and proud to +show his alacrity, ran on to receive her ladyship's orders. +Now, as we have before observed, it was a sharp and windy +day; and though Lady Diana Sweepstakes was actually speaking +to him, and looking at him, he could not prevent his nose +from wanting to be blowed: he pulled out his handkerchief +and out rolled the new ball which had been given to him just +before he left home, and which, according to his usual careless +habits, he had stuffed into his pocket in his hurry. 'Oh, my +new ball!' cried he, as he ran after it. As he stopped to pick +it up, he let go his hat, which he had hitherto held on with +anxious care; for the hat, though it had a fine green and white +cockade, had no band or string round it. The string, as we<span class="pagenum">[252]</span> +may recollect, our wasteful hero had used in spinning his top. +The hat was too large for his head without this band; a sudden +gust of wind blew it off. Lady Diana's horse started and +reared. She was a <i>famous</i> horsewoman, and sat him to the +admiration of all beholders; but there was a puddle of red +clay and water in this spot, and her ladyship's uniform habit +was a sufferer by the accident. 'Careless brat!' said she, 'why +can't he keep his hat upon his head?' In the meantime, the +wind blew the hat down the hill, and Hal ran after it amidst +the laughter of his kind friends, the young Sweepstakes, and +the rest of the little regiment. The hat was lodged, at length, +upon a bank. Hal pursued it: he thought this bank was hard, +but, alas! the moment he set his foot upon it the foot sank. +He tried to draw it back; his other foot slipped, and he fell +prostrate, in his green and white uniform, into the treacherous +bed of red mud. His companions, who had halted upon the +top of the hill, stood laughing spectators of his misfortune.</p> + +<p>It happened that the poor boy with the black patch upon +his eye, who had been ordered by Lady Diana to '<i>fall back</i>,' +and to '<i>keep at a distance</i>' was now coming up the hill; and +the moment he saw our fallen hero, he hastened to his assistance. +He dragged poor Hal, who was a deplorable spectacle, +out of the red mud. The obliging mistress of a lodging-house, +as soon as she understood that the young gentleman was +nephew to Mr. Gresham, to whom she had formerly let her +house, received Hal, covered as he was with dirt.</p> + +<p>The poor Bristol lad hastened to Mr. Gresham's for clean +stockings and shoes for Hal. He was willing to give up his +uniform: it was rubbed and rubbed, and a spot here and there +was washed out; and he kept continually repeating,—'When +it's dry it will all brush off—when it's dry it will all brush off, +won't it?' But soon the fear of being too late at the archery +meeting began to balance the dread of appearing in his stained +habiliments; and he now as anxiously repeated, whilst the +woman held the wet coat to the fire, 'Oh, I shall be too late; +indeed, I shall be too late; make haste; it will never dry; +hold it nearer—nearer to the fire. I shall lose my turn to +shoot; oh, give me the coat; I don't mind how it is, if I can +but get it on.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i023f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i023t.jpg" alt="i023"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>He dragged poor Hal out of the red mud.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>Holding it nearer and nearer to the fire dried it quickly, to +be sure; but it shrank it also, so that it was no easy matter to<span class="pagenum">[254]</span> +get the coat on again. However, Hal, who did not see the red +splashes, which, in spite of all these operations, were too visible +upon his shoulders, and upon the skirts of his white coat behind, +was pretty well satisfied to observe that there was not one spot +upon the facings. 'Nobody,' said he, 'will take notice of my +coat behind, I daresay. I think it looks as smart almost as +ever!'—and under this persuasion our young archer resumed +his bow—his bow with green ribands, now no more!—and he +pursued his way to the Downs.</p> + +<p>All his companions were far out of sight. 'I suppose,' said +he to his friend with the black patch—'I suppose my uncle and +Ben had left home before you went for the shoes and stockings +for me?'</p> + +<p>'Oh yes, sir; the butler said they had been gone to the +Downs the matter of a good half-hour or more.'</p> + +<p>Hal trudged on as fast as he possibly could. When he got +upon the Downs, he saw numbers of carriages, and crowds of +people, all going towards the place of meeting at the Ostrich. +He pressed forwards. He was at first so much afraid of being +late, that he did not take notice of the mirth his motley appearance +excited in all beholders. At length he reached the +appointed spot. There was a great crowd of people. In the +midst he heard Lady Diana's loud voice betting upon some one +who was just going to shoot at the mark.</p> + +<p>'So then the shooting is begun, is it?' said Hal. 'Oh, let +me in! pray let me into the circle! I'm one of the archers—I +am, indeed; don't you see my green and white uniform?'</p> + +<p>'Your red and white uniform, you mean,' said the man to +whom he addressed himself; and the people, as they opened +a passage for him, could not refrain laughing at the mixture of +dirt and finery which it exhibited. In vain, when he got into +the midst of the formidable circle, he looked to his friends, the +young Sweepstakes, for their countenance and support. They +were amongst the most unmerciful of the laughers. Lady Diana +also seemed more to enjoy than to pity his confusion.</p> + +<p>'Why could you not keep your hat upon your head, man?' +said she, in her masculine tone. 'You have been almost the +ruin of my poor uniform habit; but I've escaped rather better +than you have. Don't stand there, in the middle of the circle, +or you'll have an arrow in your eyes just now, I've a notion.'</p> + +<p>Hal looked round in search of better friends. 'Oh, where's<span class="pagenum">[255]</span> +my uncle?—where's Ben?' said he. He was in such confusion, +that, amongst the number of faces, he could scarcely distinguish +one from another; but he felt somebody at this moment +pull his elbow, and, to his great relief, he heard the friendly +voice and saw the good-natured face of his cousin Ben.</p> + +<p>'Come back—come behind these people,' said Ben, 'and +put on my greatcoat; here it is for you.'</p> + +<p>Right glad was Hal to cover his disgraced uniform with the +rough greatcoat which he had formerly despised. He pulled +the stained, drooping cockade out of his unfortunate hat; and +he was now sufficiently recovered from his vexation to give an +intelligible account of his accident to his uncle and Patty, who +anxiously inquired what had detained him so long, and what +had been the matter. In the midst of the history of his +disaster, he was just proving to Patty that his taking the +hatband to spin his top had nothing to do with his misfortune, +and he was at the same time endeavouring to refute his uncle's +opinion that the waste of the whipcord that tied the parcel was +the original cause of all his evils, when he was summoned to +try his skill with his <i>famous</i> bow.</p> + +<p>'My hands are benumbed; I can scarcely feel,' said he, +rubbing them, and blowing upon the ends of his fingers.</p> + +<p>'Come, come,' cried young Sweepstakes, 'I'm within one +inch of the mark; who'll go nearer? I shall like to see. +Shoot away, Hal; but first understand our laws; we settled +them before you came upon the green. You are to have three +shots, with your own bow and your own arrows; and nobody's +to borrow or lend under pretence of other's bows being better +or worse, or under any pretence. Do you hear, Hal?'</p> + +<p>This young gentleman had good reasons for being so strict +in these laws, as he had observed that none of his companions +had such an excellent bow as he had provided for himself. +Some of the boys had forgotten to bring more than one arrow +with them, and by his cunning regulation that each person +should shoot with his own arrows, many had lost one or two +of their shots.</p> + +<p>'You are a lucky fellow; you have your three arrows,' said +young Sweepstakes. 'Come, we can't wait whilst you rub your +fingers, man—shoot away.'</p> + +<p>Hal was rather surprised at the asperity with which his +friend spoke. He little knew how easily acquaintance who<span class="pagenum">[256]</span> +call themselves friends can change when their interest comes +in the slightest degree in competition with their friendship. +Hurried by his impatient rival, and with his hands so much +benumbed that he could scarcely feel how to fix the arrow in +the string, he drew the bow. The arrow was within a quarter +of an inch of Master Sweepstakes' mark, which was the nearest +that had yet been hit. Hal seized his second arrow. 'If I +have any luck——' said he. But just as he pronounced the +word <i>luck</i>, and as he bent his bow, the string broke in two, +and the bow fell from his hands.</p> + +<p>'There, it's all over with you!' cried Master Sweepstakes, +with a triumphant laugh.</p> + +<p>'Here's my bow for him, and welcome,' said Ben. 'No, +no, sir,' said Master Sweepstakes, 'that is not fair; that's +against the regulation. You may shoot with your own bow, +if you choose it, or you may not, just as you think proper; but +you must not lend it, sir.'</p> + +<p>It was now Ben's turn to make his trial. His first arrow +was not successful. His second was exactly as near as Hal's +first. 'You have but one more,' said Master Sweepstakes; +'now for it!' Ben, before he ventured his last arrow, prudently +examined the string of his bow; and, as he pulled it to try its +strength, it cracked. Master Sweepstakes clapped his hands, +with loud exultations and insulting laughter. But his laughter +ceased when our provident hero calmly drew from his pocket +an excellent piece of whipcord.</p> + +<p>'The everlasting whipcord, I declare!' exclaimed Hal, when +he saw that it was the very same that had tied up the parcel. +'Yes,' said Ben, as he fastened it to his bow, 'I put it into +my pocket to-day on purpose, because I thought I might happen +to want it.' He drew his bow the third and last time.</p> + +<p>'Oh, papa!' cried little Patty, as his arrow hit the mark, +'it's the nearest; is it not the nearest?'</p> + +<p>Master Sweepstakes, with anxiety, examined the hit. There +could be no doubt. Ben was victorious! The bow, the prize +bow, was now delivered to him; and Hal, as he looked at the +whipcord, exclaimed, 'How <i>lucky</i> this whipcord has been to +you, Ben!'</p> + +<p>'It is <i>lucky</i>, perhaps, you mean, that he took care of it,' said +Mr. Gresham.</p> + +<p>'Ay,' said Hal, 'very true; he might well say, "Waste not, +want not." It is a good thing to have two strings to one's bow.'</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[257]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="OLD_POZ" id="OLD_POZ"></a>OLD POZ</h2> + +<div class="inset"> +<p class="noin"> +<span class="smcap">Lucy</span>, <i>daughter to the Justice.</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">Mrs. Bustle</span>, <i>landlady of the 'Saracen's Head.'</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">Justice Headstrong.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Old Man.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">William</span>, <i>a Servant.</i> +</p> +</div> + +<h4>SCENE I</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>The House of Justice Headstrong—A hall—Lucy watering some +myrtles—A servant behind the scenes is heard to say—</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">I tell</span> you my master is not up. You can't see him, so go +about your business, I say.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> To whom are you speaking, William? Who's that?</p> + +<p><i>Will.</i> Only an old man, miss, with a complaint for my +master.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Oh, then, don't send him away—don't send him +away.</p> + +<p><i>Will.</i> But master has not had his chocolate, ma'am. He +won't ever see anybody before he drinks his chocolate, you +know, ma'am.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> But let the old man, then, come in here. Perhaps +he can wait a little while. Call him.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit servant.</i>)</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Lucy sings, and goes on watering her myrtles; the servant +shows in the Old Man.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Will.</i> You can't see my master this hour; but miss will +let you stay here.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy</i> (<i>aside</i>). Poor old man! how he trembles as he walks. +(<i>Aloud.</i>) Sit down, sit down. My father will see you soon; +pray sit down.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>He hesitates; she pushes a chair towards him.</i>)<span class="pagenum">[258]</span></p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Pray sit down.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>He sits down.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Old Man.</i> You are very good, miss; very good.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Lucy goes to her myrtles again.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Ah! I'm afraid this poor myrtle is quite dead—quite +dead.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>The Old Man sighs, and she turns round.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Lucy</i> (<i>aside</i>). I wonder what can make him sigh so! +(<i>Aloud.</i>) My father won't make you wait long.</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Oh, ma'am, as long as he pleases. I'm in no +haste—no haste. It's only a small matter.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> But does a small matter make you sigh so?</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Ah, miss; because though it is a small matter in +itself, it is not a small matter to me (<i>sighing again</i>); it was my +all, and I've lost it.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> What do you mean? What have you lost?</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Why, miss—but I won't trouble you about it.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> But it won't trouble me at all—I mean, I wish to +hear it; so tell it me.</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Why, miss, I slept last night at the inn here, in +town—the 'Saracen's Head'——</p> + +<p><i>Lucy</i> (<i>interrupts him</i>). Hark! there is my father coming +downstairs; follow me. You may tell me your story as we go +along.</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> I slept at the 'Saracen's Head,' miss, and——</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit talking.</i>)</p> + + +<h4>SCENE II</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Justice Headstrong's Study</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p class="noin">(<i>He appears in his nightgown and cap, with his gouty foot upon +a stool—a table and chocolate beside him—Lucy is leaning on +the arm of his chair.</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Well, well, my darling, presently; I'll see him +presently.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Whilst you are drinking your chocolate, papa?</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> No, no, no—I never see anybody till I have done my +chocolate, darling. (<i>He tastes his chocolate.</i>) There's no sugar +in this, child.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Yes, indeed, papa.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> No, child—there's <i>no</i> sugar, I tell you; that's poz!<span class="pagenum">[259]</span></p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Oh, but, papa, I assure you I put in two lumps +myself.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> There's <i>no</i> sugar, I say; why will you contradict me, +child, for ever? There's no sugar, I say.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Lucy leans over him playfully, and with his teaspoon +pulls out two lumps of sugar.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> What's this, papa?</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Pshaw! pshaw! pshaw!—it is not melted, child—it +is the same as no sugar.—Oh, my foot, girl, my foot!—you +kill me. Go, go, I'm busy. I've business to do. Go and +send William to me; do you hear, love?</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> And the old man, papa?</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> What old man? I tell you what, I've been plagued +ever since I was awake, and before I was awake, about that +old man. If he can't wait, let him go about his business. +Don't you know, child, I never see anybody till I've drunk my +chocolate; and I never will, if it were a duke—that's poz! +Why, it has but just struck twelve; if he can't wait, he can go +about his business, can't he?</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Oh, sir, he <i>can</i> wait. It was not he who was +impatient. (<i>She comes back playfully.</i>) It was only I, papa; +don't be angry.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Well, well, well (<i>finishing his cup of chocolate, and +pushing his dish away</i>); and at any rate there was not sugar +enough. Send William, send William, child; and I'll finish +my own business, and then——</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit Lucy, dancing, 'And then!—and then!'</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Justice,</span> <i>alone.</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Oh, this foot of mine!—(<i>twinges</i>)—Oh, this foot! +Ay, if Dr. Sparerib could cure one of the gout, then, indeed, I +should think something of him; but as to my leaving off my +bottle of port, it's nonsense; it's all nonsense; I can't do it; I +can't, and I won't for all the Dr. Spareribs in Christendom; +that's poz!</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">William</span>.</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Just.</i> William—oh! ay! hey! what answer, pray, did you +bring from the 'Saracen's Head'? Did you see Mrs. Bustle +herself, as I bid you?</p> + +<p><i>Will.</i> Yes, sir, I saw the landlady herself; she said she +would come up immediately, sir.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Ah, that's well—immediately?</p> + +<p><i>Will.</i> Yes, sir, and I hear her voice below now.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Oh, show her up; show Mrs. Bustle in.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i024f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i024t.jpg" alt="i024"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption">Lucy. <i>What's this, papa?</i> Just. <i>Pshaw! pshaw! pshaw!—it is not melted, child—it +is the same as no sugar.</i></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[261]</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Bustle,</span> <i>the landlady of the 'Saracen's Head.'</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Good-morrow to your worship! I'm glad to see +your worship look so purely. I came up with all speed (<i>taking +breath</i>). Our pie is in the oven; that was what you sent for +me about, I take it.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> True, true; sit down, good Mrs. Bustle, pray——</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Oh, your worship's always very good (<i>settling her +apron</i>). I came up just as I was—only threw my shawl over +me. I thought your worship would excuse—I'm quite, as it +were, rejoiced to see your worship look so purely, and to find +you up so hearty——</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Oh, I'm very hearty (<i>coughing</i>), always hearty, and +thankful for it. I hope to see many Christmas doings yet, +Mrs. Bustle. And so our pie is in the oven, I think you say?</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> In the oven it is. I put it in with my own hands; +and if we have but good luck in the baking, it will be as pretty +a goose-pie—though I say it that should not say it—as pretty +a goose-pie as ever your worship set your eyes upon.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Will you take a glass of anything this morning, Mrs. +Bustle?—I have some nice usquebaugh.</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Oh, no, your worship!—I thank your worship, though, +as much as if I took it; but I just took my luncheon before I +came up; or more proper, <i>my sandwich</i>, I should say, for the +fashion's sake, to be sure. A <i>luncheon</i> won't go down with +nobody nowadays (<i>laughs</i>). I expect hostler and boots will +be calling for their sandwiches just now (<i>laughs again</i>). I'm +sure I beg your worship's pardon for mentioning a <i>luncheon</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Oh, Mrs. Bustle, the word's a good word, for it means +a good thing—ha! ha! ha! (<i>pulls out his watch</i>); but pray, +is it luncheon time? Why, it's past one, I declare; and I +thought I was up in remarkably good time, too.</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Well, and to be sure so it was, remarkably good time +for <i>your worship</i>; but folks in our way must be up betimes, +you know. I've been up and about these seven hours.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> (<i>stretching</i>). Seven hours!</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Ay, indeed—eight, I might say, for I am an early<span class="pagenum">[262]</span> +little body; though I say it that should not say it—I <i>am</i> an +early little body.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> An early little body, as you say, Mrs. Bustle—so I +shall have my goose-pie for dinner, hey?</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> For dinner, as sure as the clock strikes four—but I +mustn't stay prating, for it may be spoiling if I'm away; so I +must wish your worship a good morning.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>She curtsies.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> No ceremony—no ceremony; good Mrs. Bustle, your +servant.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">William</span>, <i>to take away the chocolate. The Landlady is +putting on her shawl.</i> +</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Just.</i> You may let that man know, William, that I have dispatched +my <i>own</i> business, and am at leisure for his now (<i>taking +a pinch of snuff</i>). Hum! pray, William (<i>Justice leans back +gravely</i>), what sort of a looking fellow is he, pray?</p> + +<p><i>Will.</i> Most like a sort of travelling man, in my opinion, sir—or +something that way, I take it.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>At these words the Landlady turns round inquisitively, +and delays, that she may listen, while she is putting +on and pinning her shawl.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Hum! a sort of a travelling man. Hum! lay my books +out open at the title Vagrant; and, William, tell the cook that +Mrs. Bustle promises me the goose-pie for dinner. Four o'clock, +do you hear? And show the old man in now.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>The Landlady looks eagerly towards the door, as it opens, +and exclaims,</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> My old gentleman, as I hope to breathe!</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter the</i> <span class="smcap">Old Man</span>.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="noin">(<i>Lucy follows the Old Man on tiptoe—The Justice leans back +and looks consequential—The Landlady sets her arms +akimbo—The Old Man starts as he sees her.</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Just.</i> What stops you, friend? Come forward, if you please.</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> (<i>advancing</i>). So, sir, is it you, sir? Ay, you little +thought, I warrant ye, to meet me here with his worship; but +there you reckoned without your host—Out of the frying-pan +into the fire.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> What is all this? What is this?</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> (<i>running on</i>). None of your flummery stuff will go +down with his worship no more than with me, I give you<span class="pagenum">[263]</span> +warning; so you may go further and far worse, and spare your +breath to cool your porridge.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> (<i>waves his hand with dignity</i>). Mrs. Bustle, good Mrs. +Bustle, remember where you are. Silence! silence! Come +forward, sir, and let me hear what you have to say.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>The Old Man comes forward.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Who and what may you be, friend, and what is your +business with me?</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Sir, if your worship will give me leave——</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Justice makes a sign to her to be silent.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Please your worship, I am an old soldier.</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> (<i>interrupting</i>). An old hypocrite, say.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Mrs. Bustle, pray, I desire, let the man speak.</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> For these two years past—ever since, please your +worship—I wasn't able to work any longer; for in my youth I +did work as well as the best of them.</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> (<i>eager to interrupt</i>). You work—you——</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Let him finish his story, I say.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Ay, do, do, papa, speak for him. Pray, Mrs. +Bustle——</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> (<i>turning suddenly round to Lucy</i>). Miss, a good +morrow to you, ma'am. I humbly beg your apologies for not +seeing you sooner, Miss Lucy.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Justice nods to the Old Man, who goes on.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Old Man.</i> But, please your worship, it pleased God to take +away the use of my left arm; and since that I have never been +able to work.</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Flummery! flummery!</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> (<i>angrily</i>). Mrs. Bustle, I have desired silence, +and I will have it, that's poz! You shall have your turn +presently.</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> For these two years past (for why should I be +ashamed to tell the truth?) I have lived upon charity, and I +scraped together a guinea and a half and upwards, and I was +travelling with it to my grandson, in the north, with him to +end my days—<i>but</i> (<i>sighing</i>)——</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> <i>But</i> what? Proceed, pray, to the point.</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> But last night I slept here in town, please your +worship, at the 'Saracen's Head.'</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> (<i>in a rage</i>). At the 'Saracen's Head!' Yes, forsooth! +none such ever slept at the 'Saracen's Head' afore, or +ever shall afterwards, as long as my name's Bustle and the +'Saracen's Head' is the 'Saracen's Head.'</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Again! again! Mrs. Landlady, this is downright—I +have said you should speak presently. He <i>shall</i> speak first, +since I've said it—that's poz! Speak on, friend. You slept +last night at the 'Saracen's Head.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i025f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i025t.jpg" alt="i025"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption">'<i>Five times have I commanded silence, and I won't command anything five times +in vain</i>—that's poz!'</p> +</div> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Yes, please your worship, and I accuse nobody; +but at night I had my little money safe, and in the morning it +was gone.<span class="pagenum">[265]</span></p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Gone!—gone, indeed, in my house! and this is the +way I'm to be treated! Is it so? I couldn't but speak, your +worship, to such an inhuman like, out o' the way, scandalous +charge, if King George and all the Royal Family were sitting +in your worship's chair, beside you, to silence me (<i>turning to +the Old Man</i>). And this is your gratitude, forsooth! Didn't +you tell me that any hole in my house was good enough for +you, wheedling hypocrite? And the thanks I receive is to +call me and mine a pack of thieves.</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Oh, no, no, no, <i>No</i>—a pack of thieves, by no +means.</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Ay, I thought when <i>I</i> came to speak we should have +you upon your marrow-bones in——</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> (<i>imperiously</i>). Silence! Five times have I commanded +silence, and five times in vain; and I won't command anything +five times in vain—<i>that's poz</i>!</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> (<i>in a pet, aside</i>). Old Poz! (<i>Aloud.</i>) Then, your +worship, I don't see any business I have to be waiting here; +the folks want me at home (<i>returning and whispering</i>). Shall +I send the goose-pie up, your worship, if it's ready?</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> (<i>with magnanimity</i>). I care not for the goose-pie, +Mrs. Bustle. Do not talk to me of goose-pies; this is no +place to talk of pies.</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Oh, for that matter, your worship knows best, to +be sure.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit Landlady, angry.</i>)</p> + +<h4>SCENE III</h4> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Justice Headstrong</span>, <span class="smcap">Old Man</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lucy</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Ah, now, I'm glad he can speak; now tell papa; +and you need not be afraid to speak to him, for he is very +good-natured. Don't contradict him, though, because he told +<i>me</i> not.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Oh, darling, <i>you</i> shall contradict me as often as you +please—only not before I've drunk my chocolate, child—hey? +Go on, my good friend; you see what it is to live in Old +England, where, thank Heaven, the poorest of His Majesty's +subjects may have justice, and speak his mind before the first +in the land. Now speak on; and you hear she tells you that +you need not be afraid of me. Speak on.<span class="pagenum">[266]</span></p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> I thank your worship, I'm sure.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Thank me! for what, sir? I won't be thanked for +doing justice, sir; so—but explain this matter. You lost your +money, hey, at the 'Saracen's Head'? You had it safe last +night, hey?—and you missed it this morning? Are you sure +you had it safe at night?</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Oh, please your worship, quite sure; for I took it +out and looked at it just before I said my prayers.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> You did—did ye so?—hum! Pray, my good friend, +where might you put your money when you went to bed?</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Please, your worship, where I always put it—always—in +my tobacco-box.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Your tobacco-box! I never heard of such a thing—to +make a <i>strong box</i> of a tobacco-box. Ha! ha! ha! +hum!—and you say the box and all were gone in the morning?</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> No, please your worship, no; not the box—the +box was never stirred from the place where I put it. They +left me the box.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Tut, tut, tut, man!—took the money and left the +box? I'll never believe <i>that</i>! I'll never believe that any one +could be such a fool. Tut, tut! the thing's impossible! It's +well you are not upon oath.</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> If I were, please your worship, I should say the +same; for it is the truth.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Don't tell me, don't tell me; I say the thing is +impossible.</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Please your worship, here's the box.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> (<i>goes on without looking at it</i>). Nonsense! nonsense! +it's no such thing; it's no such thing, I say—no man would +take the money and leave the tobacco-box. I won't believe it. +Nothing shall make me believe it ever—that's poz.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy</i> (<i>takes the box and holds it up before her father's eyes</i>). +You did not see the box, did you, papa?</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Yes, yes, yes, child—nonsense! it's all a lie from +beginning to end. A man who tells one lie will tell a hundred. +All a lie!—all a lie!</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> If your worship would give me leave——</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Sir, it does not signify—it does not signify! I've +said it, I've said it, and that's enough to convince me, and I'll +tell you more; if my Lord Chief Justice of England told it to +me, I would not believe it—that's poz!<span class="pagenum">[267]</span></p> + +<p><i>Lucy</i> (<i>still playing with the box</i>). But how comes the box +here, I wonder?</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Pshaw! pshaw! pshaw! darling. Go to your dolls, +darling, and don't be positive—go to your dolls, and don't talk +of what you don't understand. What can you understand, I +want to know, of the law?</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> No, papa, I didn't mean about the law, but about +the box; because, if the man had taken it, how could it be +here, you know, papa?</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Hey, hey, what? Why, what I say is this, that I +don't dispute that that box, that you hold in your hands, is a +box; nay, for aught I know, it may be a tobacco-box—but it's +clear to me that if they left the box they did not take the +money; and how do you dare, sir, to come before Justice +Headstrong with a lie in your mouth? recollect yourself, I'll +give you time to recollect yourself.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center">(<i>A pause.</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Well, sir; and what do you say now about the box?</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Please your worship, with submission, I <i>can</i> say +nothing but what I said before.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> What, contradict me again, after I gave you time to +recollect yourself! I've done with you; I have done. Contradict +me as often as you please, but you cannot impose upon +me; I defy you to impose upon me!</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Impose!</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> I know the law!—I know the law!—and I'll make +you know it, too. One hour I'll give you to recollect yourself, +and if you don't give up this idle story, I'll—I'll commit you +as a vagrant—that's poz! Go, go, for the present. William, +take him into the servants' hall, do you hear?—What, take +the money, and leave the box? I'll never do it—that's poz!</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Lucy speaks to the Old Man as he is going off.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Don't be frightened! don't be frightened!—I mean, +if you tell the truth, never be frightened.</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> <i>If</i> I tell the truth—(<i>turning up his eyes</i>).</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Old Man is still held back by the young lady.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> One moment—answer me one question—because +of something that just came into my head. Was the box shut +fast when you left it?<span class="pagenum">[268]</span></p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> No, miss, no!—open—it was open; for I could +not find the lid in the dark—my candle went out. <i>If</i> I tell +the truth—oh!</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Exit.</i>)</p> + +<h4>SCENE IV</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Justice's Study—the Justice is writing</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Well!—I shall have but few days' more misery +in this world!</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> (<i>looks up</i>). Why! why—why then, why will you be +so positive to persist in a lie? Take the money and leave the +box! Obstinate blockhead! Here, William (<i>showing the +committal</i>), take this old gentleman to Holdfast, the constable, +and give him this warrant.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lucy,</span> <i>running, out of breath.</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> I've found it! I've found it! Here, old man; +here's your money—here it is all—a guinea and a half, and a +shilling and a sixpence, just as he said, papa.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Landlady</span>.</p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Oh la! your worship, did you ever hear the like?</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> I've heard nothing yet that I can understand. First, +have you secured the thief, I say?</p> + +<p><i>Lucy</i> (<i>makes signs to the landlady to be silent</i>). Yes, yes, +yes! we have him safe—we have him prisoner. Shall he +come in, papa?</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Yes, child, by all means; and now I shall hear what +possessed him to leave the box. I don't understand—there's +something deep in all this; I don't understand it. Now I do +desire, Mrs. Landlady, nobody may speak a single word whilst +I am cross-examining the thief.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Landlady puts her finger upon her lips—Everybody +looks eagerly towards the door.</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Re-enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lucy,</span> <i>with a huge wicker cage in her hand, containing +a magpie—The Justice drops the committal out of his +hand.</i></p> + +<br /> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Hey!—what, Mrs. Landlady—the old magpie? hey?</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Ay, your worship, my old magpie. Who'd have<span class="pagenum">[269]</span> +thought it? Miss was very clever—it was she caught the +thief. Miss was very clever.</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Very good! very good!</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Ay, darling, her father's own child! How was it, +child? Caught the thief, <i>with the mainour</i>, hey? Tell us +all; I will hear all—that's poz.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Oh! then first I must tell you how I came to suspect +Mr. Magpie. Do you remember, papa, that day last summer +when I went with you to the bowling-green at the 'Saracen's +Head'?</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Oh, of all days in the year! but I ask pardon, miss.</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Well, that day I heard my uncle and another gentleman +telling stories of magpies hiding money; and they laid a +wager about this old magpie and they tried him—they put a +shilling upon the table, and he ran away with it and hid it; +so I thought that he might do so again, you know, this time.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Right, right. It's a pity, child, you are not upon the +Bench—ha! ha! ha!</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> And when I went to his old hiding-place, there it +was; but you see, papa, he did not take the box.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> No, no, no! because the thief was a magpie. No +<i>man</i> would have taken the money and left the box. You see +I was right; no <i>man</i> would have left the box, hey?</p> + +<p><i>Lucy.</i> Certainly not, I suppose; but I'm so very glad, old +man, that you have obtained your money.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Well then, child, here—take my purse, and add that +to it. We were a little too hasty with the committal—hey?</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Ay, and I fear I was, too; but when one is touched +about the credit of one's house, one's apt to speak warmly.</p> + +<p><i>Old M.</i> Oh, I'm the happiest old man alive! You are all +convinced that I told you no lies. Say no more—say no more. +I am the happiest man! Miss, you have made me the happiest +man alive! Bless you for it!</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> Well, now, I'll tell you what. I know what I think—you +must keep that there magpie, and make a show of him, +and I warrant he'll bring you many an honest penny; for it's +a <i>true story</i>, and folks would like to hear it, I hopes——</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> (<i>eagerly</i>). And, friend, do you hear? You'll dine here +to-day, you'll dine here. We have some excellent ale. I will +have you drink my health—that's poz!—hey? You'll drink +my health, won't you—hey?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i026f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i026t.jpg" alt="i026"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>'And Mr. Smack, the curate, and Squire Solid, and the doctor, sir, are come, +and dinner is upon the table.'</i></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[271]</span><i>Old M.</i> (<i>bows</i>). Oh! and the young lady's, if you please.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Ay, ay, drink her health—she deserves it. Ay, drink +my darling's health.</p> + +<p><i>Land.</i> And please your worship, it's the right time, I believe, +to speak of the goose-pie now; and a charming pie it is, and +it's on the table.</p> + +<p><i>Will.</i> And Mr. Smack, the curate, and Squire Solid, and +the doctor, sir, are come, and dinner is upon the table.</p> + +<p><i>Just.</i> Then let us say no more, but do justice immediately +to the goose-pie; and, darling, put me in mind to tell this story +after dinner.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>After they go out, the Justice stops.</i>)</p> + +<p>'Tell this story'—I don't know whether it tells well for +me; but I'll never be positive any more—<i>that's poz</i>!</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[273]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="THE_MIMIC" id="THE_MIMIC"></a>THE MIMIC</h2> + +<h3>CHAPTER I</h3> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">Mr.</span> and <span class="smcap">Mrs. Montague</span> spent the summer of the year +1795 at Clifton with their son Frederick, and their two +daughters Sophia and Marianne. They had taken much care +of the education of their children; nor were they ever tempted, +by any motive of personal convenience or temporary amusement, +to hazard the permanent happiness of their pupils.</p> + +<p>Sensible of the extreme importance of early impressions, +and of the powerful influence of external circumstances in +forming the characters and the manners, they were now +anxious that the variety of new ideas and new objects which +would strike the minds of their children should appear in a just +point of view.</p> + +<p>'Let children see and judge for themselves,' is often inconsiderately +said. Where children see only a part they cannot +judge of the whole; and from the superficial view which they +can have in short visits and desultory conversation, they can +form only a false estimate of the objects of human happiness, +a false notion of the nature of society, and false opinions of +characters.</p> + +<p>For the above reasons, Mr. and Mrs. Montague were +particularly cautious in the choice of their acquaintances, as +they were well aware that whatever passed in conversation +before their children became part of their education.</p> + +<p>When they came to Clifton, they wished to have a house +entirely to themselves; but, as they came late in the season, +almost all the lodging-houses were full, and for a few weeks +they were obliged to remain in a house where some of the +apartments were already occupied.<span class="pagenum">[274]</span></p> + +<p>During the first fortnight they scarcely saw or heard anything +of one of the families who lodged on the same floor with +them. An elderly Quaker and his sister Bertha were their +silent neighbours. The blooming complexion of the lady had +indeed attracted the attention of the children, as they caught +a glimpse of her face when she was getting into her carriage +to go out upon the Downs. They could scarcely believe that +she came to the Wells on account of her health.</p> + +<p>Besides her blooming complexion, the delicate white of her +garments had struck them with admiration; and they observed +that her brother carefully guarded her dress from the wheel of +the carriage, as he handed her in. From this circumstance, +and from the benevolent countenance of the old gentleman, +they concluded that he was very fond of his sister, and that +they were certainly very happy, except that they never spoke, +and could be seen only for a moment.</p> + +<p>Not so the maiden lady who occupied the ground-floor. +On the stairs, in the passages, at her window, she was continually +visible; and she appeared to possess the art of being +present in all these places at once. Her voice was eternally +to be heard, and it was not particularly melodious. The very +first day she met Mrs. Montague's children on the stairs, she +stopped to tell Marianne that she was a charming dear, and +a charming little dear; to kiss her, to inquire her name, and +to inform her that her own name was 'Mrs. Theresa Tattle,' +a circumstance of which there was little danger of their long +remaining in ignorance; for, in the course of one morning, at +least twenty single and as many double raps at the door +were succeeded by vociferations of 'Mrs. Theresa Tattle's +servant!' 'Mrs. Theresa Tattle at home?' 'Mrs. Theresa +Tattle not at home!'</p> + +<p>No person at the Wells was oftener at home and abroad +than Mrs. Tattle. She had, as she deemed it, the happiness +to have a most extensive acquaintance residing at Clifton. She +had for years kept a register of arrivals. She regularly consulted +the subscriptions to the circulating libraries, and the +lists at the Ball and the Pump rooms; so that, with a memory +unencumbered with literature and free from all domestic cares, +she contrived to retain a most astonishing and correct list of +births, deaths, and marriages, together with all the anecdotes, +amusing, instructive, or scandalous, which are necessary to the<span class="pagenum">[275]</span> +conversation of a water-drinking place, and essential to the +character of a 'very pleasant woman.'</p> + +<p>'A very pleasant woman' Mrs. Tattle was usually called; +and, conscious of her accomplishments, she was eager to introduce +herself to the acquaintance of her new neighbours; having, +with her ordinary expedition, collected from their servants, by +means of her own, all that could be known, or rather all that +could be told about them. The name of Montague, at all +events, she knew was a good name, and justified in courting +the acquaintance. She courted it first by nods and becks and +smiles at Marianne whenever she met her; and Marianne, who +was a very little girl, began presently to nod and smile in +return, persuaded that a lady who smiled so much could not +be ill-natured. Besides, Mrs. Theresa's parlour door was sometimes +left more than half open, to afford a view of a green +parrot. Marianne sometimes passed very slowly by this door. +One morning it was left quite wide open, when she stopped to +say 'Pretty Poll'; and immediately Mrs. Tattle begged she +would do her the honour to walk in and see 'Pretty Poll,' at +the same time taking the liberty to offer her a piece of iced +plum-cake.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i027f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i027t.jpg" alt="i027"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>The next day Mrs. Theresa Tattle did herself the honour to wait upon Mrs. Montague.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>The next day Mrs. Theresa Tattle did herself the honour +to wait upon Mrs. Montague, 'to apologise for the liberty she +had taken in inviting Mrs. Montague's charming Miss Marianne +into her apartment to see Pretty Poll, and for the still +greater liberty she had taken in offering her a piece of plum-cake—inconsiderate +creature that she was!—which might +possibly have disagreed with her, and which certainly were +liberties she never should have been induced to take, if she +had not been unaccountably bewitched by Miss Marianne's +striking though highly flattering resemblance to a young +gentleman (an officer) with whom she had danced, now nearly +twelve years ago, of the name of Montague, a most respectable +young man, and of a most respectable family, with which, in a +remote degree, she might presume to say, she herself was +someway connected, having the honour to be nearly related to +the Joneses of Merionethshire, who were cousins to the Mainwarings +of Bedfordshire, who married into the family of the +Griffiths, the eldest branch of which, she understood, had the +honour to be cousin-german to Mr. Montague; on which +account she had been impatient to pay a visit, so likely to be<span class="pagenum">[277]</span> +productive of most agreeable consequences, by the acquisition +of an acquaintance whose society must do her infinite honour.'</p> + +<p>Having thus happily accomplished her first visit, there +seemed little probability of escaping Mrs. Tattle's further +acquaintance. In the course of the first week she only hinted +to Mr. Montague that 'some people thought his system of +education rather odd; that she should be obliged to him if he +would, some time or other, when he had nothing else to do, +just sit down and make her understand his notions, that she +might have something to say to her acquaintance, as she +always wished to have when she heard any friend attacked, or +any friend's opinions.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Montague declining to sit down and make this lady +understand a system of education only to give her something +to say, and showing unaccountable indifference about the +attacks with which he was threatened, Mrs. Tattle next +addressed herself to Mrs. Montague, prophesying, in a most +serious whisper, 'that the charming Miss Marianne would +shortly and inevitably grow quite crooked, if she were not +immediately provided with a back-board, a French dancing-master, +and a pair of stocks.'</p> + +<p>This alarming whisper could not, however, have a permanent +effect upon Mrs. Montague's understanding, because three days +afterwards Mrs. Theresa, upon the most anxious inspection, +entirely mistook the just and natural proportions of the hip +and shoulder.</p> + +<p>This danger vanishing, Mrs. Tattle presently, with a rueful +length of face, and formal preface, 'hesitated to assure Mrs. +Montague that she was greatly distressed about her daughter +Sophy; that she was convinced her lungs were affected; and +that she certainly ought to drink the waters morning and +evening; and, above all things, must keep one of the patirosa +lozenges constantly in her mouth, and directly consult Dr. +Cardamum, the best physician in the world, and the person +she would send for herself upon her death-bed; because, to +her certain knowledge, he had recovered a young lady, a relation +of her own, after she had lost one whole <i>globe</i><a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> of her +lungs.'</p> + +<p>The medical opinion of a lady of so much anatomical +precision could not have much weight. Neither was this +<span class="pagenum">[278]</span>universal adviser more successful in an attempt to introduce a +tutor to Frederick, who, she apprehended, must want some +one to perfect him in the Latin and Greek, and dead +languages, of which, she observed, it would be impertinent for +a woman to talk; only she might venture to repeat what she +had heard said by good authority, that a competency of the +dead tongues could be had nowhere but at a public school, or +else from a private tutor who had been abroad (after the +advantage of a classical education, finished in one of the +universities) with a good family; without which introduction +it was idle to think of reaping solid advantages from any +continental tour; all which requisites, from personal knowledge, +she could aver to be concentrated in the gentleman she +had the honour to recommend, as having been tutor to a young +nobleman, who had no further occasion for him, having, unfortunately +for himself and his family, been killed in an +untimely duel.</p> + +<p>All Mrs. Theresa Tattle's suggestions being lost upon these +stoical parents, her powers were next tried upon the children, +and her success soon became apparent. On Sophy, indeed, +she could not make any impression, though she had expended +on her some of her finest strokes of flattery. Sophy, though +very desirous of the approbation of her friends, was not very +desirous of winning the favour of strangers. She was about +thirteen—that dangerous age at which ill-educated girls, in +their anxiety to display their accomplishments, are apt to +become dependent for applause upon the praise of every idle +visitor; when the habits not being formed, and the attention +being suddenly turned to dress and manners, girls are apt to +affect and imitate, indiscriminately, everything that they conceive +to be agreeable.</p> + +<p>Sophy, whose taste had been cultivated at the same time +with her powers of reasoning, was not liable to fall into these +errors. She found that she could please those whom she +wished to please, without affecting to be anything but what +she really was; and her friends listened to what she said, +though she never repeated the sentiments, or adopted the +phrases, which she might easily have copied from the conversation +of those who were older or more fashionable than herself.</p> + +<p>This word <i>fashionable</i>, Mrs. Theresa Tattle knew, had +usually a great effect, even at thirteen; but she had not<span class="pagenum">[279]</span> +observed that it had much power upon Sophy; nor were her +remarks concerning grace and manners much attended to. +Her mother had taught Sophy that it was best to let herself +alone, and not to distort either her person or her mind in +acquiring grimace, which nothing but the fashion of the +moment can support, and which is always detected and +despised by people of real good sense and politeness.</p> + +<p>'Bless me!' said Mrs. Tattle, to herself, 'if I had such a +tall daughter, and so unformed, before my eyes from morning +to night, it would certainly break my poor heart. Thank +heaven, I am not a mother! if I were, Miss Marianne for me!'</p> + +<p>Miss Marianne had heard so often from Mrs. Tattle that +she was very charming, that she could not help believing it; +and from being a very pleasing, unaffected little girl, she in a +short time grew so conceited, that she could neither speak, +look, move, nor be silent, without imagining that everybody +was, or ought to be, looking at her; and when Mrs. Theresa +saw that Mrs. Montague looked very grave upon these occasions, +she, to repair the ill she had done, would say, after praising +Marianne's hair or her eyes, 'Oh, but little ladies should never +think about their beauty, you know. Nobody loves anybody +for being handsome, but for being good.' People must think +children are very silly, or else they can never have reflected +upon the nature of belief in their own minds, if they imagine +that children will believe the words that are said to them, by way +of moral, when the countenance, manner, and every concomitant +circumstance tell them a different tale. Children are excellent +physiognomists—they quickly learn the universal language of +looks; and what is said <i>of</i> them always makes a greater +impression than what is said <i>to</i> them, a truth of which those +prudent people surely cannot be aware who comfort themselves, +and apologise to parents, by saying, 'Oh, but I would not say +so and so to the child.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Theresa had seldom said to Frederick Montague +'that he had a vast deal of drollery, and was a most incomparable +mimic'; but she had said so of him in whispers, which +magnified the sound to his imagination, if not to his ear. He +was a boy of much vivacity, and had considerable abilities; +but his appetite for vulgar praise had not yet been surfeited. +Even Mrs. Theresa Tattle's flattery pleased him, and he +exerted himself for her entertainment so much that he became<span class="pagenum">[280]</span> +quite a buffoon. Instead of observing characters and manners, +that he might judge of them, and form his own, he now watched +every person he saw, that he might detect some foible, or catch +some singularity in their gesture or pronunciation, which he +might successfully mimic.</p> + +<p>Alarmed by the rapid progress of these evils, Mr. and Mrs. +Montague, who, from the first day that they had been honoured +with Mrs. Tattle's visit, had begun to look out for new lodgings, +were now extremely impatient to decamp. They were not +people who, from the weak fear of offending a silly acquaintance, +would hazard the happiness of their family. They had +heard of a house in the country which was likely to suit them, +and they determined to go directly to look at it. As they +were to be absent all day, they foresaw that their officious +neighbour would probably interfere with their children. They +did not choose to exact any promise from them which they +might be tempted to break, and therefore they only said at +parting, 'If Mrs. Theresa Tattle should ask you to come to +her, do as you think proper.'</p> + +<p>Scarcely had Mrs. Montague's carriage got out of hearing +when a note was brought, directed to 'Frederick Montague, +Junior, Esq.,' which he immediately opened, and read as +follows:—</p> + +<br /> + +<p>'Mrs. Theresa Tattle presents her very best compliments +to the entertaining Mr. Frederick Montague; she hopes he +will have the charity to drink tea with her this evening, and +bring his charming sister, Miss Marianne, with him, as Mrs. +Theresa will be quite alone with a shocking headache, and is +sensible her nerves are affected; and Dr. Cardamum says that +(especially in Mrs. T. T.'s case) it is downright death to +nervous patients to be alone an instant. She therefore trusts +Mr. Frederick will not refuse to come and make her laugh. +Mrs. Theresa has taken care to provide a few macaroons for +her little favourite, who said she was particularly fond of them +the other day. Mrs. Theresa hopes they will all come at six, +or before, not forgetting Miss Sophy, if she will condescend to +be of the party.'</p> + +<br /> + +<p>At the first reading of this note, 'the entertaining' Mr. +Frederick and the 'charming' Miss Marianne laughed<span class="pagenum">[281]</span> +heartily, and looked at Sophy, as if they were afraid that she +should think it possible they could like such gross flattery; +but upon a second perusal, Marianne observed that it certainly +was very good-natured of Mrs. Theresa to remember the +macaroons; and Frederick allowed that it was wrong to laugh +at the poor woman because she had the headache. Then +twisting the note in his fingers, he appealed to Sophy:—</p> + +<p>'Well, Sophy, leave off drawing for an instant,' said +Frederick, 'and tell us what answer can we send?'</p> + +<p>'Can!—we can send what answer we please.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I know that,' said Frederick; 'I would refuse if I +could; but we ought not to do anything rude, should we? So +I think we might as well go, because we could not refuse, if we +would, I say.'</p> + +<p>'You have made such confusion,' replied Sophy, 'between +"couldn't" and "wouldn't" and "shouldn't," that I can't +understand you: surely they are all different things.'</p> + +<p>'Different! no,' cried Frederick—'<i>could</i>, <i>would</i>, <i>should</i>, +<i>might</i>, and <i>ought</i> are all the same thing in the Latin grammar; +all of 'em signs of the potential mood, you know.'</p> + +<p>Sophy, whose powers of reasoning were not to be confounded, +even by quotations from the Latin grammar, looked +up soberly from her drawing, and answered 'that very likely +those words might be signs of the same thing in the Latin +grammar, but she believed that they meant perfectly different +things in real life.'</p> + +<p>'That's just as people please,' said her sophistical brother. +'You know words mean nothing in themselves. If I choose +to call my hat my cadwallader, you would understand me just +as well, after I had once explained it to you, that by cadwallader +I meant this black thing that I put upon my head; +cadwallader and hat would then be just the same thing to +you.'</p> + +<p>'Then why have two words for the same thing?' said +Sophy; 'and what has this to do with <i>could</i> and <i>should</i>? +You wanted to prove——'</p> + +<p>'I wanted to prove,' interrupted Frederick, 'that it's not +worth while to dispute for two hours about two words. Do +keep to the point, Sophy, and don't dispute with me.'</p> + +<p>'I was not disputing, I was reasoning.'</p> + +<p>'Well, reasoning or disputing. Women have no business<span class="pagenum">[282]</span> +to do either; for, how should they know how to chop logic +like men?'</p> + +<p>At this contemptuous sarcasm upon her sex, Sophy's colour +rose.</p> + +<p>'There!' cried Frederick, exulting, 'now we shall see a +philosopheress in a passion; I'd give sixpence, half-price, for +a harlequin entertainment, to see Sophy in a passion. Now, +Marianne, look at her brush dabbing so fast in the water!'</p> + +<p>Sophy, who could not easily bear to be laughed at, with +some little indignation, said, 'Brother, I wish——'</p> + +<p>'There! there!' cried Frederick, pointing to the colour +which rose in her cheeks almost to her temples—'rising! +rising! rising! look at the thermometer! blood heat! blood! +fever heat! boiling water heat! Marianne.'</p> + +<p>'Then,' said Sophy, smiling, 'you should stand a little +farther off, both of you. Leave the thermometer to itself a +little while. Give it time to cool. It will come down to +"temperate" by the time you look again.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, brother!' cried Marianne, 'she's so good-humoured, +don't tease her any more, and don't draw heads upon her +paper, and don't stretch her india-rubber, and don't let us +dirty any more of her brushes. See! the sides of her tumbler +are all manner of colours.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, I only mixed red, blue, green, and yellow to show +you, Marianne, that all colours mixed together make white. +But she is temperate now, and I won't plague her; she shall +chop logic, if she likes it, though she is a woman.'</p> + +<p>'But that's not fair, brother,' said Marianne, 'to say +"woman" in that way. I'm sure Sophy found out how to tie +that difficult knot, which papa showed us yesterday, long +before you did, though you are a man.' 'Not long,' said +Frederick. 'Besides, that was only a conjuring trick.'</p> + +<p>'It was very ingenious, though,' said Marianne; 'and papa +said so. Besides, she understood the "Rule of Three," which +was no conjuring trick, better than you did, though she is a +woman; and she can reason, too, mamma says.'</p> + +<p>'Very well, let her reason away,' said the provoking wit. +'All I have to say is, that she'll never be able to make a +pudding.'</p> + +<p>'Why not, pray, brother?' inquired Sophy, looking up +again, very gravely.<span class="pagenum">[283]</span></p> + +<p>'Why, you know papa himself, the other day at dinner, +said that that woman who talks Greek and Latin as well as I +do, is a fool after all; and that she had better have learned +something useful; and Mrs. Tattle said, she'd answer for it +she did not know how to make a pudding.'</p> + +<p>'Well! but I am not talking Greek and Latin, am I?'</p> + +<p>'No, but you are drawing, and that's the same thing.'</p> + +<p>'The same thing! Oh, Frederick!' said little Marianne, +laughing.</p> + +<p>'You may laugh; but I say it is the same sort of thing. +Women who are always drawing and reasoning never know +how to make puddings. Mrs. Theresa Tattle said so, when +I showed her Sophy's beautiful drawing yesterday.'</p> + +<p>'Mrs. Theresa Tattle might say so,' replied Sophy, calmly; +'but I do not perceive the reason, brother, why drawing should +prevent me from learning how to make a pudding.'</p> + +<p>'Well, I say you'll never learn how to make a good +pudding.'</p> + +<p>'I have learned,' continued Sophy, who was mixing her +colours, 'to mix such and such colours together to make the +colour that I want; and why should I not be able to learn to +mix flour and butter, and sugar and egg, together, to produce +the taste that I want?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, but mixing will never do, unless you know the +quantities, like a cook; and you would never learn the right +quantities.'</p> + +<p>'How did the cook learn them? Cannot I learn them as +she did?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, but you'd never do it exactly, and mind the spoonfuls +right, by the recipe, like a cook.'</p> + +<p>'Indeed! indeed! but she would,' cried Marianne, eagerly; +'and a great deal more exactly, for mamma has taught her to +weigh and measure things very carefully; and when I was ill +she always weighed the bark in nicely, and dropped my drops +so carefully: better than the cook. When mamma took me +down to see the cook make a cake once, I saw her spoonfuls, +and her ounces, and her handfuls: she dashed and splashed +without minding exactness, or the recipe, or anything. I'm +sure Sophy would make a much better pudding, if exactness +only were wanting.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i028f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i028t.jpg" alt="i028"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>'She dashed and splashed without minding exactness, or the recipe, or anything.'</i></p> +</div> + +<p>'Well, granting that she could make the best pudding in<span class="pagenum">[285]</span> +the whole world, what does that signify? I say she never +would, so it comes to the same thing.'</p> + +<p>'Never would! how can you tell that, brother?'</p> + +<p>'Why, now look at her, with her books, and her drawings, +and all this apparatus. Do you think she would ever jump +up, with all her nicety, too, and put by all these things, to go +down into the greasy kitchen, and plump up to the elbows in +suet, like a cook, for a plum-pudding?'</p> + +<p>'I need not plump up to the elbows, brother,' said Sophy, +smiling, 'nor is it necessary that I should be a cook; but, if +it were necessary, I hope I should be able to make a pudding.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, yes,' cried Marianne, warmly; 'and she would jump +up, and put by all her things in a minute if it were necessary, +and run downstairs and up again like lightning, or do anything +that was ever so disagreeable to her, even about the +suet, with all her nicety, brother, I assure you, as she used to +do anything, everything for me, when I was ill last winter. +Oh, brother, she can do anything; and she could make the +best plum-pudding in the whole world, I'm sure, in a minute, +if it were necessary.'</p> + + + +<h3>CHAPTER II</h3> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">A knock</span> at the door, from Mrs. Theresa Tattle's servant, +recalled Marianne to the business of the day.</p> + +<p>'There,' said Frederick, 'we have sent no answer all this +time. It's necessary to think of that in a minute.'</p> + +<p>The servant came with his mistress's compliments, to let the +young ladies and Mr. Frederick know that she was waiting tea +for them.</p> + +<p>'Waiting! then we must go,' said Frederick.</p> + +<p>The servant opened the door wider, to let him pass, and +Marianne thought she must follow her brother; so they went +downstairs together, while Sophy gave her own message to the +servant, and quietly stayed at her usual occupations.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Tattle was seated at her tea-table, with a large plate +of macaroons beside her, when Frederick and Marianne entered. +She was 'delighted' they were come, and 'grieved' not to see<span class="pagenum">[286]</span> +Miss Sophy along with them. Marianne coloured a little; for +though she had precipitately followed her brother, and though +he had quieted her conscience for a moment by saying, 'You +know, papa and mamma told us to do what we thought best,' +yet she did not feel quite pleased with herself; and it was not +till after Mrs. Theresa had exhausted all her compliments and +half her macaroons, that she could restore her spirits to their +usual height.</p> + +<p>'Come, Mr. Frederick,' said she after tea, 'you promised +to make me laugh; and nobody can make me laugh so well +as yourself.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, brother,' said Marianne, 'show Mrs. Theresa Dr. +Carbuncle eating his dinner; and I'll be Mrs. Carbuncle.'</p> + +<p><i>Marianne.</i> Now, my dear, what shall I help you to?</p> + +<p><i>Frederick.</i> 'My dear!' she never calls him my dear, you +know, but always Doctor.</p> + +<p><i>Mar.</i> Well then, doctor, what will you eat to-day?</p> + +<p><i>Fred.</i> Eat, madam! eat! nothing! nothing! I don't see +anything here I can eat, ma'am.</p> + +<p><i>Mar.</i> Here's eels, sir; let me help you to some eel—stewed +eel;—you used to be fond of stewed eel.</p> + +<p><i>Fred.</i> Used, ma'am, used! But I'm sick of stewed eels. +You would tire one of anything. Am I to see nothing but eels? +And what's this at the bottom?</p> + +<p><i>Mar.</i> Mutton, doctor, roast mutton; if you'll be so good as +to cut it.</p> + +<p><i>Fred.</i> Cut it, ma'am! I can't cut it, I say; it's as hard as a +deal board. You might as well tell me to cut the table, ma'am. +Mutton, indeed! not a bit of fat. Roast mutton, indeed! not +a drop of gravy. Mutton, truly! quite a cinder. I'll have none +of it. Here, take it away; take it downstairs to the cook. It's +a very hard case, Mrs. Carbuncle, that I can never have a bit +of anything that I can eat at my own table, Mrs. Carbuncle, +since I was married, ma'am, I that am the easiest man in the +whole world to please about my dinner. It's really very extraordinary, +Mrs. Carbuncle! What have you at that corner there, +under the cover?</p> + +<p><i>Mar.</i> Patties, sir; oyster patties.</p> + +<p><i>Fred.</i> Patties, ma'am! kickshaws! I hate kickshaws. Not +worth putting under a cover, ma'am. And why not have glass +covers, that one may see one's dinner before one, before it grows<span class="pagenum">[287]</span> +cold with asking questions, Mrs. Carbuncle, and lifting up +covers? But nobody has any sense; and I see no water plates +anywhere, lately.</p> + +<p><i>Mar.</i> Do, pray, doctor, let me help you to a bit of chicken +before it gets cold, my dear.</p> + +<p><i>Fred.</i> (<i>aside</i>). 'My dear,' again, Marianne!</p> + +<p><i>Mar.</i> Yes, brother, because she is frightened, you know, +and Mrs. Carbuncle always says 'my dear' to him when she's +frightened, and looks so pale from side to side; and sometimes +she cries before dinner's done, and then all the company are +quite silent, and don't know what to do.</p> + +<p>'Oh, such a little creature; to have so much sense, too!' +exclaimed Mrs. Theresa, with rapture. 'Mr. Frederick, you'll +make me die with laughing! Pray go on, Dr. Carbuncle.'</p> + +<p><i>Fred.</i> Well, ma'am, then if I must eat something, send me +a bit of fowl; a leg and wing, the liver wing, and a bit of the +breast, oyster sauce, and a slice of that ham, if you please, +ma'am.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>Dr. Carbuncle eats voraciously, with his head down to +his plate, and, dropping the sauce, he buttons up his +coat tight across the breast.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Fred.</i> Here; a plate, knife and fork, bit o' bread, a glass +of Dorchester ale!</p> + +<p>'Oh, admirable!' exclaimed Mrs. Tattle, clapping her hands.</p> + +<p>'Now, brother, suppose that it is after dinner,' said +Marianne; 'and show us how the doctor goes to sleep.'</p> + +<p>Frederick threw himself back in an arm-chair, leaning his +head back, with his mouth open, snoring; nodded from time +to time, crossed and uncrossed his legs, tried to awake himself +by twitching his wig, settling his collar, blowing his nose, and +rapping on the lid of his snuff-box.</p> + +<p>All which infinitely diverted Mrs. Tattle, who, when she +could stop herself from laughing, declared 'it made her sigh, +too, to think of the life poor Mrs. Carbuncle led with that man, +and all for nothing, too; for her jointure was nothing, next to +nothing, though a great thing, to be sure, her friends thought, +for her, when she was only Sally Ridgeway before she was +married. Such a wife as she makes,' continued Mrs. Theresa, +lifting up her hands and eyes to heaven, 'and so much as she +has gone through, the brute ought to be ashamed of himself if +he does not leave her something extraordinary in his will; for<span class="pagenum">[288]</span> +turn it which way she will, she can never keep a carriage, or +live like anybody else, on her jointure, after all, she tells me, +poor soul! A sad prospect, after her husband's death, to look +forward to, instead of being comfortable, as her friends expected; +and she, poor young thing! knowing no better when they +married her! People should look into these things beforehand, +or never marry at all, I say, Miss Marianne.'</p> + +<p>Miss Marianne, who did not clearly comprehend this affair +of the jointure, or the reason why Mrs. Carbuncle would be so +unhappy after her husband's death, turned to Frederick, who +was at that instant studying Mrs. Theresa as a future character +to mimic. 'Brother,' said Marianne, 'now sing an Italian +song for us like Miss Croker. Pray, Miss Croker, favour us +with a song. Mrs. Theresa Tattle has never had the pleasure +of hearing you sing; she's quite impatient to hear you sing.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, indeed, I am,' said Mrs. Theresa.</p> + +<p>Frederick put his hands before him affectedly. 'Oh, indeed, +ma'am! indeed, ladies! I really am so hoarse, it distresses me +so to be pressed to sing; besides, upon my word, I have quite +left off singing. I've never sung once, except for very particular +people, this winter.'</p> + +<p><i>Mar.</i> But Mrs. Theresa Tattle is a very particular person. +I'm sure you'll sing for her.</p> + +<p><i>Fred.</i> Certainly, ma'am, I allow that you use a powerful +argument; but I assure you now, I would do my best to oblige +you, but I absolutely have forgotten all my English songs. +Nobody hears anything but Italian now, and I have been so +giddy as to leave my Italian music behind me. Besides, I +make it a rule never to hazard myself without an accompaniment.</p> + +<p><i>Mar.</i> Oh, try, Miss Croker, for once.</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>Frederick sings, after much preluding.</i>)</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"> +<p class="noin"> +Violante in the pantry,<br /> +Gnawing of a mutton-bone;<br /> + How she gnawed it,<br /> + How she claw'd it,<br /> +When she found herself alone! +</p></div> + + +<p>'Charming!' exclaimed Mrs. Tattle; 'so like Miss Croker, +I'm sure I shall think of you, Mr. Frederick, when I hear her +asked to sing again. Her voice, however, introduces her to very<span class="pagenum">[289]</span> +pleasant parties, and she's a girl that's very much taken notice +of, and I don't doubt will go off vastly well. She's a particular +favourite of mine, you must know; and I mean to do her a +piece of service the first opportunity, by saying something or +other, that shall go round to her relations in Northumberland, +and make them do something for her; as well they may, for +they are all rolling in gold, and won't give her a penny.</p> + +<p><i>Mar.</i> Now, brother, read the newspaper like Counsellor +Puff.</p> + +<p>'Oh, pray do, Mr. Frederick, for I declare I admire you of +all things! You are quite yourself to-night. Here's a newspaper, +sir, pray let us have Counsellor Puff. It's not late.'</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center">(<i>Frederick reads in a pompous voice.</i>)</p> + +<br /> + +<p>'As a delicate white hand has ever been deemed a distinguishing +ornament in either sex, Messrs. Valiant and Wise +conceive it to be their duty to take the earliest opportunity to +advertise the nobility and gentry of Great Britain in general, +and their friends in particular, that they have now ready for +sale, as usual, at the Hippocrates' Head, a fresh assortment of +new-invented, much-admired primrose soap. To prevent impositions +and counterfeits, the public are requested to take +notice, that the only genuine primrose soap is stamped on the +outside, "Valiant and Wise."'</p> + +<p>'Oh, you most incomparable mimic! 'tis absolutely the +counsellor himself. I absolutely must show you, some day, to +my friend Lady Battersby; you'd absolutely make her die with +laughing; and she'd quite adore you,' said Mrs. Theresa, who +was well aware that every pause must be filled with flattery. +'Pray go on, pray go on. I shall never be tired, if I sit looking +at you these hundred years.'</p> + +<p>Stimulated by these plaudits, Frederick proceeded to show +how Colonel Epaulette blew his nose, flourished his cambric +handkerchief, bowed to Lady Diana Periwinkle, and admired +her work, saying, 'Done by no hands, as you may guess, but +those of Fairly Fair.' Whilst Lady Diana, he observed, simpered +so prettily, and took herself so quietly for Fairly Fair, +not perceiving that the colonel was admiring his own nails all +the while.</p> + +<p>Next to Colonel Epaulette, Frederick, at Marianne's particular +desire, came into the room like Sir Charles Slang.<span class="pagenum">[290]</span></p> + +<p>'Very well, brother,' cried she, 'your hand down to the very +bottom of your pocket, and your other shoulder up to your ear; +but you are not quite wooden enough, and you should walk as +if your hip were out of joint. There now, Mrs. Tattle, are not +those good eyes? They stare so like his, without seeming to +see anything all the while.'</p> + +<p>'Excellent! admirable! Mr. Frederick. I must say that +you are the best mimic of your age I ever saw, and I'm sure +Lady Battersby will think so too. That is Sir Charles to the +very life. But with all that, you must know he's a mighty +pleasant, fashionable young man when you come to know him, +and has a great deal of sense under all that, and is of a very +good family—the Slangs, you know. Sir Charles will come +into a fine fortune himself next year, if he can keep clear of +gambling, which I hear is his foible, poor young man! Pray +go on. I interrupt you, Mr. Frederick.'</p> + +<p>'Now, brother,' said Marianne.</p> + +<p>'No, Marianne, I can do no more. I'm quite tired, and I +will do no more,' said Frederick, stretching himself at full +length upon a sofa.</p> + +<p>Even in the midst of laughter, and whilst the voice of flattery +yet sounded in his ear, Frederick felt sad, displeased with himself, +and disgusted with Mrs. Theresa.</p> + +<p>'What a deep sigh was there!' said Mrs. Theresa; 'what +can make you sigh so bitterly? You, who make everybody +else laugh. Oh, such another sigh again!'</p> + +<p>'Marianne,' cried Frederick, 'do you remember the man in +the mask?'</p> + +<p>'What man in the mask, brother?'</p> + +<p>'The man—the actor—the buffoon, that my father told us +of, who used to cry behind the mask that made everybody else +laugh.'</p> + +<p>'Cry! bless me,' said Mrs. Theresa, 'mighty odd! very +extraordinary! but one can't be surprised at meeting with +extraordinary characters amongst that race of people, actors +by profession, you know; for they are brought up from the egg +to make their fortune, or at least their bread, by their oddities. +But, my dear Mr. Frederick, you are quite pale, quite exhausted; +no wonder—what will you have? a glass of cowslip-wine?'</p> + +<p>'Oh no, thank you, ma'am,' said Frederick.<span class="pagenum">[291]</span></p> + +<p>'Oh yes; indeed you must not leave me without taking +something; and Miss Marianne must have another macaroon. +I insist upon it,' said Mrs. Theresa, ringing the bell. 'It is +not late, and my man Christopher will bring up the cowslip-wine +in a minute.'</p> + +<p>'But, Sophy! and papa and mamma, you know, will come +home presently,' said Marianne.</p> + +<p>'Oh! Miss Sophy has her books and drawings. You know +she's never afraid of being alone. Besides, to-night it was her +own choice. And as to your papa and mamma, they won't be +home to-night, I'm pretty sure; for a gentleman, who had it +from their own authority, told me where they were going, +which is further off than they think; but they did not consult +me; and I fancy they'll be obliged to sleep out; so you need +not be in a hurry about them. We'll have candles.'</p> + +<p>The door opened just as Mrs. Tattle was going to ring the +bell again for candles and the cowslip-wine. 'Christopher! +Christopher!' said Mrs. Theresa, who was standing at the fire, +with her back to the door, when it opened, 'Christopher! pray +bring——Do you hear?' but no Christopher answered; and, +upon turning round, Mrs. Tattle, instead of Christopher, beheld +two little black figures, which stood perfectly still and silent. +It was so dark, that their forms could scarcely be discerned.</p> + +<p>'In the name of heaven, who and what may you be? +Speak, I conjure you! what are ye?'</p> + +<p>'The chimney-sweepers, ma'am, an' please your ladyship.'</p> + +<p>'Chimney-sweepers!' repeated Frederick and Marianne, +bursting out a-laughing.</p> + +<p>'Chimney-sweepers!' repeated Mrs. Theresa, provoked at +the recollection of her late solemn address to them. 'Chimney-sweepers! +and could not you say so a little sooner? Pray, +what brings you here, gentlemen, at this time of night?'</p> + +<p>'The bell rang, ma'am,' answered a squeaking voice.</p> + +<p>'The bell rang! yes, for Christopher. The boy's mad, or +drunk.'</p> + +<p>'Ma'am,' said the taller of the chimney-sweepers, who had +not yet spoken, and who now began in a very blunt manner; +'ma'am, your brother desired us to come up when the bell +rang; so we did.'</p> + +<p>'My brother? I have no brother, dunce,' said Mrs. Theresa.</p> + +<p>'Mr. Eden, madam.'<span class="pagenum">[292]</span></p> + +<p>'Ho, ho!' said Mrs. Tattle, in a more complacent tone, +'the boy takes me for Miss Bertha Eden, I perceive'; and, +flattered to be taken in the dark by a chimney-sweeper for a +young and handsome lady, Mrs. Theresa laughed, and informed +him 'that they had mistaken the room; and they must go up +another pair of stairs, and turn to the left.'</p> + +<p>The chimney-sweeper with the squeaking voice bowed, +thanked her ladyship for this information, said, 'Good-night to +ye, quality'; and they both moved towards the door.</p> + +<p>'Stay,' said Mrs. Tattle, whose curiosity was excited; 'what +can the Edens want with chimney-sweepers at this time o' night, +I wonder? Christopher, did you hear anything about it?' +said the lady to her footman, who was now lighting the +candles.</p> + +<p>'Upon my word, ma'am,' said the servant, 'I can't say; +but I'll step down below and inquire. I heard them talking +about it in the kitchen; but I only got a word here and there, +for I was hunting for the snuff-dish, as I knew it must be for +candles when I heard the bell ring, ma'am; so I thought to find +the snuff-dish before I answered the bell, for I knew it must be +for candles you rang. But, if you please, I'll step down now, +ma'am, and see about the chimney-sweepers.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, step down, do; and, Christopher, bring up the cowslip-wine, +and some more macaroons for my little Marianne.'</p> + +<p>Marianne withdrew rather coldly from a kiss which Mrs. +Tattle was going to give her; for she was somewhat surprised +at the familiarity with which this lady talked to her footman. +She had not been accustomed to these familiarities in +her father and mother, and she did not like them.</p> + +<p>'Well,' said Mrs. Tattle to Christopher, who was now +returned, 'what is the news?'</p> + +<p>'Ma'am, the little fellow with the squeaking voice has been +telling me the whole story. The other morning, ma'am, early, +he and the other were down the hill sweeping in Paradise Row. +Those chimneys, they say, are difficult; and the square fellow, +ma'am, the biggest of the two boys, got wedged in the chimney. +The other little fellow was up at the top at the time, and he +heard the cry; but in his fright, and all, he did not know what +to do, ma'am; for he looked about from the top of the chimney, +and not a soul could he see stirring, but a few that he could +not make attend to his screech; the boy within almost stifling<span class="pagenum">[293]</span> +too. So he screeched, and screeched, all he could; and by the +greatest chance in life, ma'am, old Mr. Eden was just going +down the hill to fetch his morning walk.'</p> + +<p>'Ay,' interrupted Mrs. Theresa, 'friend Ephraim is one of +your early risers.'</p> + +<p>'Well?' said Marianne, impatiently.</p> + +<p>'So, ma'am, hearing the screech, he turns and sees the +sweep; and at once he understands the matter——'</p> + +<p>'I'm sure he must have taken some time to understand it,' +interposed Mrs. Tattle, 'for he's the slowest creature breathing, +and the deafest in company. Go on, Christopher. So the +sweep did make him hear.'</p> + +<p>'So he says, ma'am; and so the old gentleman went in and +pulled the boy out of the chimney, with much ado, ma'am.'</p> + +<p>'Bless me!' exclaimed Mrs. Theresa; 'but did old Eden +go up the chimney himself after the boy, wig and all?'</p> + +<p>'Why, ma'am,' said Christopher, with a look of great delight, +'that was all as one, as the very 'dentical words I put to the +boy myself, when he telled me his story. But, ma'am, that was +what I couldn't get out of him, neither, rightly, for he is a churl—the +big boy that was stuck in the chimney, I mean; for +when I put the question to him about the wig, laughing like, he +wouldn't take it laughing like at all; but would only make +answer to us like a bear, 'He saved my life, that's all I know'; +and this over again, ma'am, to all the kitchen round, that cross-questioned +him. But I finds him stupid and ill-mannered like, +for I offered him a shilling, ma'am, myself, to tell about the +wig; but he put it back in a way that did not become such as +he, to no lady's butler, ma'am; whereupon I turns to the slim +fellow (and he's smarterer, and more mannerly, ma'am, with a +tongue in his head for his betters), but he could not resolve +me my question either; for he was up at the top of the +chimney the best part o' the time; and when he came down +Mr. Eden had his wig on, but had his arm all bare and bloody, +ma'am.'</p> + +<p>'Poor Mr. Eden!' exclaimed Marianne.</p> + +<p>'Oh, miss,' continued the servant, 'and the chimney-sweep +himself was so bruised, and must have been killed.'</p> + +<p>'Well, well! but he's alive now; go on with your story, +Christopher,' said Mrs. T. 'Chimney-sweepers get wedged in +chimneys every day; it's part of their trade, and it's a happy<span class="pagenum">[294]</span> +thing when they come off with a few bruises.<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> To be sure,' +added she, observing that both Frederick and Marianne looked +displeased at this speech, 'to be sure, if one may believe this +story, there was some real danger.'</p> + +<p>'Real danger! yes, indeed,' said Marianne; 'and I'm sure +I think Mr. Eden was very good.'</p> + +<p>'Certainly it was a most commendable action, and quite +providential. So I shall take an opportunity of saying, when I +tell the story in all companies; and the boy may thank his kind +stars, I'm sure, to the end of his days, for such an escape——But +pray, Christopher,' said she, persisting in her conversation +with Christopher, who was now laying the cloth for supper, +'pray, which house was it in Paradise Row? where the Eagles +or the Miss Ropers lodge? or which?'</p> + +<p>'It was at my Lady Battersby's, ma'am.'</p> + +<p>'Ha! ha!' cried Mrs. Theresa, 'I thought we should get +to the bottom of the affair at last. This is excellent! This +will make an admirable story for my Lady Battersby the next +time I see her. These Quakers are so sly! Old Eden, I know, +has long wanted to obtain an introduction into that house; and +a charming charitable expedient hit upon! My Lady Battersby +will enjoy this, of all things.'</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER III</h3> + +<p class="noin">'<span class="smcap">Now</span>,' continued Mrs. Theresa, turning to Frederick, as soon +as the servant had left the room, 'now, Mr. Frederick Montague, +I have a favour—such a favour—to ask of you; it's a favour +which only you can grant; you have such talents, and would +do the thing so admirably; and my Lady Battersby would +quite adore you for it. She will do me the honour to be here +to spend an evening to-morrow. I'm convinced Mr. and Mrs. +Montague will find themselves obliged to stay out another day, +and I so long to show you off to her ladyship; and your Doctor +Carbuncle, and your Counsellor Puff, and your Miss Croker, +and all your charming characters. You must let me introduce +you to her ladyship to-morrow evening. Promise me.'</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[295]</span></p> +<p>'Oh, ma'am,' said Frederick, 'I cannot promise you any +such thing, indeed. I am much obliged to you; but indeed I +cannot come.'</p> + +<p>'Why not, my dear sir? why not? You don't think I mean +you should promise, if you are certain your papa and mamma +will be home.'</p> + +<p>'If they do come home, I will ask them about it,' said +Frederick, hesitating; for though he by no means wished to +accept the invitation, he had not yet acquired the necessary +power of decidedly saying No.</p> + +<p>'Ask them!' repeated Mrs. Theresa. 'My dear sir, at +your age, must you ask your papa and mamma about such +things?'</p> + +<p>'Must! no, ma'am,' said Frederick; 'but I said I would. +I know I need not, because my father and mother always let +me judge for myself almost about everything.'</p> + +<p>'And about this, I am sure,' cried Marianne. 'Papa and +mamma, you know, just as they were going away, said, "If +Mrs. Theresa asks you to come, do as you think best."'</p> + +<p>'Well, then,' said Mrs. Theresa, 'you know it rests with +yourselves, if you may do as you please.'</p> + +<p>'To be sure I may, madam,' said Frederick, colouring from +that species of emotion which is justly called false shame, and +which often conquers real shame; 'to be sure, ma'am, I may +do as I please.'</p> + +<p>'Then I may make sure of you,' said Mrs. Theresa; 'for +now it would be downright rudeness to tell a lady you won't +do as she pleases. Mr. Frederick Montague, I'm sure, is too +well-bred a young gentleman to do so unpolite, so ungallant a +thing!'</p> + +<p>The jargon of politeness and gallantry is frequently brought +by the silly acquaintance of young people to confuse their simple +morality and clear good sense. A new and unintelligible +system is presented to them in a language foreign to their +understanding, and contradictory to their feelings. They +hesitate between new motives and old principles. From the +fear of being thought ignorant, they become affected; and from +the dread of being thought to be children act like fools. But +all this they feel only when they are in the company of such +people as Mrs. Theresa Tattle.</p> + +<p>'Ma'am,' Frederick began, 'I don't mean to be rude; but I<span class="pagenum">[296]</span> +hope you'll excuse me from coming to drink tea with you to-morrow, +because my father and mother are not acquainted with +Lady Battersby, and maybe they might not like——'</p> + +<p>'Take care, take care,' said Mrs. Theresa, laughing at his +perplexity; 'you want to get off from obliging me, and you +don't know how. You had very nearly made a most shocking +blunder in putting it all upon poor Lady Battersby. Now you +know it's impossible that Mr. and Mrs. Montague could have in +nature the slightest objection to introducing you to my Lady +Battersby at my own house; for, don't you know, that, besides +her ladyship's many unquestionable qualities, which one need +not talk of, she is cousin, but once removed, to the Trotters of +Lancashire—your mother's great favourites? And there is not +a person at the Wells, I'll venture to say, could be of more +advantage to your sister Sophy, in the way of partners, when +she comes to go to balls, which it's to be supposed she will, +some time or other; and as you are so good a brother, that's a +thing to be looked to, you know. Besides, as to yourself, there's +nothing her ladyship delights in so much as in a good mimic; +and she'll quite adore you!'</p> + +<p>'But I don't want her to adore me, ma'am,' said Frederick, +bluntly; then, correcting himself, added, 'I mean for being a +mimic.'</p> + +<p>'Why not, my love? Between friends, can there be any +harm in showing one's talents? You that have such talents to +show. She'll keep your secret, I'll answer for her; and,' added +she, 'you needn't be afraid of her criticism; for, between you +and me, she's no great critic: so you'll come. Well, thank +you, that's settled. How you have made me beg and pray! +but you know your own value, I see; as you entertaining +people always do. One must ask a wit, like a fine singer, so +often. Well, but now for the favour I was going to ask you.'</p> + +<p>Frederick looked surprised; for he thought that the favour +of his company was what she meant; but she explained herself +farther.</p> + +<p>'As to the old Quaker who lodges above, old Ephraim Eden—my +Lady Battersby and I have so much diversion about him. +He is the best character, the oddest creature! If you were but +to see him come into the rooms with those stiff skirts, or walking +with his eternal sister Bertha, and his everlasting broad-brimmed +hat! One knows him a mile off! But then his voice<span class="pagenum">[297]</span> +and way, and altogether, if one could get them to the life, +they'd be better than anything on the stage; better even than +anything I've seen to-night; and I think you'd make a capital +Quaker for my Lady Battersby; but then the thing is, one can +never get to hear the old quiz talk. Now you, who have so +much invention and cleverness—I have no invention myself—but +could you not hit upon some way of seeing him, so that you +might get him by heart? I'm sure you, who are so quick, +would only want to see him, and hear him, for half a minute, +to be able to take him off, so as to kill one with laughing. But +I have no invention.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, as to the invention,' said Frederick, 'I know an +admirable way of doing the thing, if that is all; but then +remember, I don't say I will do the thing, for I will not. But +I know a way of getting up into his room, and seeing him, +without his knowing me to be there.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, tell it me, you charming, clever creature!'</p> + +<p>'But, remember, I do not say I will do it.'</p> + +<p>'Well, well, let us hear it; and you shall do as you please +afterwards. Merciful goodness!' exclaimed Mrs. Tattle, 'do +my ears deceive me? I declare I looked round, and thought I +heard the squeaking chimney-sweeper was in the room!'</p> + +<p>'So did I, Frederick, I declare,' cried Marianne, laughing, +'I never heard anything so like his voice in my life.'</p> + +<p>Frederick imitated the squeaking voice of this chimney-sweeper +to great perfection.</p> + +<p>'Now,' continued he, 'this fellow is just my height. The +old Quaker, if my face were blackened, and if I were to change +clothes with the chimney-sweeper, I'll answer for it, would +never know me.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, it's an admirable invention! I give you infinite credit +for it!' exclaimed Mrs. Theresa. 'It shall, it must be done. +I'll ring, and have the fellow up this minute.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, no; do not ring,' said Frederick, stopping her hand, +'I don't mean to do it. You know you promised that I should +do as I pleased. I only told you my invention.'</p> + +<p>'Well, well; but only let me ring, and ask whether the +chimney-sweepers are below. You shall do as you please +afterwards.'</p> + +<p>'Christopher, shut the door. Christopher,' said she to the +servant who came up when she rang, 'pray are the sweeps gone<span class="pagenum">[298]</span> +yet?' 'No, ma'am.' 'But have they been up to old Eden +yet?' 'Oh no, ma'am; nor be not to go till the bell rings; +for Miss Bertha, ma'am, was asleep a-lying down, and her +brother wouldn't have her wakened on no account whatsomever. +He came down hisself to the kitchen to the sweeps, though; +but wouldn't have, as I heard him say, his sister waked for no +account. But Miss Bertha's bell will ring when she wakens for +the sweeps, ma'am. 'Twas she wanted to see the boy as her +brother saved, and I suppose sent for 'em to give him something +charitable, ma'am.' 'Well, never mind your suppositions,' +said Mrs. Theresa; 'run down this very minute to the little +squeaking chimney-sweep, and send him up to me. Quick, but +don't let the other bear come up with him.'</p> + +<p>Christopher, who had curiosity as well as his mistress, when +he returned with the chimney-sweeper, prolonged his own stay +in the room by sweeping the hearth, throwing down the tongs +and shovel, and picking them up again.</p> + +<p>'That will do, Christopher! Christopher, that will do, I say,' +Mrs. Theresa repeated in vain. She was obliged to say, +'Christopher, you may go,' before he would depart.</p> + +<p>'Now,' said she to Frederick, 'step in here to the next +room with this candle, and you'll be equipped in an instant. +Only just change clothes with the boy; only just let me see +what a charming chimney-sweeper you'd make. You shall do +as you please afterwards.' 'Well, I'll only change clothes with +him, just to show you for one minute.'</p> + +<p>'But,' said Marianne to Mrs. Theresa whilst Frederick was +changing his clothes, 'I think Frederick is right about——' 'About +what, love?' 'I think he is in the right not to go up, +though he can do it so easily, to see that gentleman; I mean +on purpose to mimic and laugh at him afterwards. I don't +think that would be quite right.' 'Why, pray, Miss Marianne?' +'Why, because he is so good-natured to his sister. He would +not let her be wakened.' 'Dear, it's easy to be good in such +little things; and he won't have long to be good to her neither; +for I don't think she will trouble him long in this world, anyhow.' +'What do you mean?' said Marianne. 'That she'll +die, child.' 'Die! die with that beautiful colour in her cheeks! +How sorry her poor, poor brother will be! But she will not +die, I'm sure, for she walks about, and runs upstairs so lightly! +Oh, you must be quite mistaken, I hope.' 'If I'm mistaken,<span class="pagenum">[299]</span> +Dr. Panado Cardamum's mistaken too, then, that's my comfort. +He says, unless the waters work a miracle, she stands a bad +chance; and she won't follow my advice, and consult the doctor +for her health.' 'He would frighten her to death, perhaps,' +said Marianne. 'I hope Frederick won't go up to disturb her.' +'Lud, child, you are turned simpleton all of a sudden; how +can your brother disturb her more than the real chimney-sweeper?' +'But I don't think it's right,' persisted Marianne, +'and I shall tell him so.' 'Nay, Miss Marianne, I don't commend +you now. Young ladies should not be so forward to give +opinions and advice to their elder brothers unasked; and I +presume that Mr. Frederick and I must know what's right as +well as Miss Marianne. Hush! here he is. Oh, the capital +figure!' cried Mrs. Theresa. 'Bravo, bravo!' cried she, as +Frederick entered in the chimney-sweeper's dress; and as he +spoke, saying, 'I'm afraid, please your ladyship, to dirt your +ladyship's carpet,' she broke out into immoderate raptures, +calling him 'her charming chimney-sweeper!' and repeating +that she knew beforehand the character would do for +him.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Theresa instantly rang the bell, in spite of all expostulation—ordered +Christopher to send up the other chimney-sweeper—triumphed +in observing that Christopher did not +know Frederick when he came into the room; and offered to +lay any wager that the other chimney-sweeper would mistake +him for his companion. And so he did; and when Frederick +spoke, the voice was so very like, that it was scarcely possible +that he should have perceived the difference.</p> + +<p>Marianne was diverted by this scene; but she started +when, in the midst of it, they heard a bell ring. 'That's the +lady's bell, and we must go,' said the blunt chimney-sweeper. +'Go, then, about your business,' said Mrs. Theresa, 'and +here's a shilling for you, to drink, my honest fellow. I did not +know you were so much bruised when I first saw you. I won't +detain you. Go,' said she, pushing Frederick towards the +door. Marianne sprang forward to speak to him; but Mrs. +Theresa kept her off; and, though Frederick resisted, the lady +shut the door upon him by superior force, and, having locked +it, there was no retreat. Mrs. Tattle and Marianne waited +impatiently for Frederick's return. 'I hear them,' cried +Marianne, 'I hear them coming downstairs.' They listened<span class="pagenum">[300]</span> +again, and all was silent. At length they suddenly heard a +great noise of many steps in the hall. 'Merciful!' exclaimed +Mrs. Theresa, 'it must be your father and mother come back.' +Marianne ran to unlock the room door, and Mrs. Theresa +followed her into the hall. The hall was rather dark, but +under the lamp a crowd of people; all the servants in the +house having gathered together.</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Theresa approached, the crowd opened in silence, +and in the midst she beheld Frederick, with blood streaming +from his face. His head was held by Christopher; and the +chimney-sweeper was holding a basin for him. 'Merciful! +what will become of me?' exclaimed Mrs. Theresa. 'Bleeding! +he'll bleed to death! Can nobody think of anything that +will stop blood in a minute? A key, a large key down his +back—a key—has nobody a key? Mr. and Mrs. Montague +will be here before he has done bleeding. A key! cobwebs! +a puff ball! for mercy's sake! Can nobody think of anything +that will stop blood in a minute? Gracious me! he'll bleed to +death, I believe.'</p> + +<p>'He'll bleed to death! Oh, my brother!' cried Marianne, +catching hold of the words; and terrified, she ran upstairs, crying, +'Sophy, oh, Sophy! come down this minute, or he'll be +dead! My brother's bleeding to death! Sophy! Sophy! +come down, or he'll be dead!'</p> + +<p>'Let go the basin, you,' said Christopher, pulling the basin +out of the chimney-sweeper's hand, who had all this time stood +in silence; 'you are not fit to hold the basin for a gentleman.' +'Let him hold it,' said Frederick; 'he did not mean to hurt +me.' 'That's more than he deserves. I'm certain sure he +might have known well enough it was Mr. Frederick all the +time, and he'd no business to go to fight—such a one as he—with +a gentleman.' 'I did not know he was a gentleman,' +said the chimney-sweeper! 'how could I?' 'How could he, +indeed?' said Frederick; 'he shall hold the basin.'</p> + +<p>'Gracious me! I'm glad to hear him speak like himself +again, at any rate,' cried Mrs. Theresa. 'And here comes Miss +Sophy, too.' 'Sophy!' cried Frederick. 'Oh, Sophy, don't +you come—don't look at me; you'll despise me.' 'My +brother!—where? where?' said Sophy, looking, as she +thought, at the two chimney-sweepers.</p> + +<p>'It's Frederick,' said Marianne; 'that's my brother.'<span class="pagenum">[301]</span></p> + +<p>'Miss Sophy, don't be alarmed,' Mrs. Theresa began; 'but +gracious goodness! I wish Miss Bertha——'</p> + +<p>At this instant a female figure in white appeared upon the +stairs; she passed swiftly on, whilst every one gave way before +her. 'Oh, Miss Bertha!' cried Mrs. Theresa, catching hold +of her gown to stop her, as she came near Frederick. 'Oh, +Miss Eden, your beautiful India muslin! take care of the +chimney-sweeper, for heaven's sake.' But she pressed forward.</p> + +<p>'It's my brother, will he die?' cried Marianne, throwing +her arms round her, and looking up as if to a being of a +superior order. 'Will he bleed to death?' 'No, my love!' +answered a sweet voice; 'do not frighten thyself.'</p> + +<p>'I've done bleeding,' said Frederick. 'Dear me, Miss +Marianne, if you would not make such a rout,' cried Mrs. +Tattle. 'Miss Bertha, it's nothing but a frolic. You see Mr. +Frederick Montague only in a masquerade dress. Nothing in +the world but a frolic, ma'am. You see he's stopped bleeding. +I was frightened out of my wits at first. I thought it was his +eye, but I see it's only his nose. All's well that ends well. +Mr. Frederick, we'll keep your counsel. Pray, ma'am, let us +ask no questions; it's only a boyish frolic. Come, Mr. +Frederick, this way, into my room, and I'll give you a towel +and some clean water, and you can get rid of this masquerade +dress. Make haste, for fear your father and mother should +drop in upon us.'</p> + +<p>'Do not be afraid of thy father and mother. They are +surely thy best friends,' said a voice. It was the voice of an +elderly gentleman, who now stood behind Frederick. 'Oh, +sir, oh, Mr. Eden,' said Frederick, turning to him. 'Don't +betray me! for goodness' sake!' whispered Mrs. Tattle, 'say +nothing about me.' 'I'm not thinking about you. Let me +speak,' cried he, pushing away her hand, which stopped his +mouth. 'I shall say nothing about you, I promise you,' said +Frederick, with a look of contempt. 'No, but for your own +sake, my dear sir, your papa and mamma. Bless me! is not +that Mrs. Montague's carriage?'</p> + +<p>'My brother, ma'am,' said Sophy, 'is not afraid of my +father and mother's coming back. Let him speak; he was +going to speak the truth.'</p> + +<p>'To be sure, Miss Sophia, I wouldn't hinder him from +speaking the truth; but it's not proper, I presume, ma'am, to<span class="pagenum">[302]</span> +speak truth at all times, and in all places, and before everybody, +servants and all. I only wanted, ma'am, to hinder your +brother from exposing himself. A hall, I apprehend, is not a +proper place for explanation.'</p> + +<p>'Here,' said Mr. Eden, opening the door of his room, which +was on the opposite side of the hall to Mrs. Tattle's. 'Here +is a place,' said he to Frederick, 'where thou mayst speak the +truth at all times, and before everybody.' 'Nay, my room's +at Mr. Frederick Montague's service, and my door's open too. +This way, pray,' said she, pulling his arm. But Frederick +broke from her, and followed Mr. Eden. 'Oh, sir, will you +forgive me?' cried he. 'Forgive thee!—and what have I to +forgive?' 'Forgive, brother, without asking what,' said +Bertha, smiling.</p> + +<p>'He shall know all!' cried Frederick; 'all that concerns +myself, I mean. Sir, I disguised myself in this dress; I came +up to your room to-night on purpose to see you, without your +knowing it, that I might mimic you. The chimney-sweeper, +where is he?' said Frederick, looking round; and he ran into +the hall to seek for him. 'May he come in? he may—he is a +brave, an honest, good, grateful boy. He never guessed who I +was. After we left you we went down to the kitchen together, +and there, fool as I was, for the pleasure of making Mr. +Christopher and the servants laugh, began to mimic you. +This boy said he would not stand by and hear you laughed at; +that you had saved his life; that I ought to be ashamed of +myself; that you had just given me half a crown; and so you +had; but I went on, and told him I'd knock him down if he +said another word. He did; I gave the first blow; we +fought; I came to the ground; the servants pulled me up +again. They found out, I don't know how, that I was not a +chimney-sweeper. The rest you saw. And now can you +forgive me, sir?' said Frederick to Mr. Eden, seizing hold of +his hand.</p> + +<p>'The other hand, friend,' said the Quaker, gently withdrawing +his right hand, which everybody now observed was much +swelled, and putting it into his bosom again. 'This, and +welcome,' offering his other hand to Frederick, and shaking his +with a smile. 'Oh, that other hand!' said Frederick, 'that +was hurt, I remember. How ill I have behaved—extremely +ill! But this is a lesson that I shall never forget as long as I<span class="pagenum">[303]</span> +live. I hope for the future I shall behave like a gentleman.' +'And like a man—and like a good man, I am sure thou wilt,' +said the good Quaker, shaking Frederick's hand affectionately; +'or I am much mistaken, friend, in that black countenance.'</p> + +<p>'You are not mistaken,' cried Marianne. 'Frederick will +never be persuaded again by anybody to do what he does not +think right; and now, brother you may wash your black +countenance.'</p> + +<p>Just when Frederick had got rid of half his black countenance, +a double knock was heard at the door. It was Mr. and +Mrs. Montague. 'What will you do now?' whispered Mrs. +Theresa to Frederick, as his father and mother came into the +room. 'A chimney-sweeper covered with blood!' exclaimed +Mr. and Mrs. Montague. 'Father, I am Frederick,' said he, +stepping forward towards them, as they stood in astonishment. +'Frederick! my son!' 'Yes, mother, I'm not hurt half so +much as I deserve; I'll tell you——' 'Nay,' interrupted +Bertha, 'let my brother tell the story this time. Thou hast +told it once, and told it well; no one but my brother could tell +it better.'</p> + +<p>'A story never tells so well the second time, to be sure,' +said Mrs. Theresa; 'but Mr. Eden will certainly make the +best of it.'</p> + +<p>Without taking any notice of Mrs. Tattle, or her apprehensive +looks, Mr. Eden explained all he knew of the affair in a +few words. 'Your son,' concluded he, 'will quickly put off his +dirty dress. The dress hath not stained the mind; that is fair +and honourable. When he found himself in the wrong, he said +so; nor was he in haste to conceal his adventure from his +father; this made me think well of both father and son. I +speak plainly, friend, for that is best. But what is become +of the other chimney-sweeper? He will want to go home,' +said Mr. Eden, turning to Mrs. Theresa. Without making +any reply, she hurried out of the room as fast as possible, +and returned in a few moments, with a look of extreme +consternation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i029f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i029t.jpg" alt="i029"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>'And like a man—and like a good man, I am sure thou wilt,' said the good Quaker +shaking Frederick's hand affectionately</i></p> +</div> + +<p>'Here is a catastrophe indeed! Now, indeed, Mr. Frederick, +your papa and mamma have reason to be angry. A new suit +of clothes!—the barefaced villain! gone! no sign of them in +my closet, or anywhere. The door was locked; he must have +gone up the chimney, out upon the leads, and so escaped; but<span class="pagenum">[305]</span> +Christopher is after him. I protest, Mrs. Montague, you take +it too quietly. The wretch!—a new suit of clothes, blue coat +and buff waistcoat. I never heard of such a thing! I declare, +Mr. Montague, you are vastly good, not to be in a passion,' +added Mrs. Theresa.</p> + +<p>'Madam,' replied Mr. Montague, with a look of much civil +contempt, 'I think the loss of a suit of clothes, and even the +disgrace that my son has been brought to this evening, fortunate +circumstances in his education. He will, I am persuaded, judge +and act for himself more wisely in future. Not will he be +tempted to offend against humanity, for the sake of being +called "The best mimic in the world."'</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[307]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="THE_BARRING_OUT" id="THE_BARRING_OUT"></a>THE BARRING OUT<br />OR,<br />PARTY SPIRIT</h2> + +<p class="noin">'<span class="smcap">The</span> mother of mischief,' says an old proverb, 'is no bigger +than a midge's wing.'</p> + +<p>At Doctor Middleton's school there was a great tall dunce +of the name of Fisher, who never could be taught how to look +out a word in the dictionary. He used to torment everybody +with—'Do pray help me! I can't make out this one word.' +The person who usually helped him in his distress was a very +clever, good-natured boy, of the name of De Grey, who had +been many years under Dr. Middleton's care, and who, by his +abilities and good conduct, did him great credit. The doctor +certainly was both proud and fond of him; but he was so well +beloved, or so much esteemed, by his companions, that nobody +had ever called him by the odious name of favourite, until the +arrival of a new scholar of the name of Archer.</p> + +<p>Till Archer came, the ideas of <i>favourites</i> and <i>parties</i> were +almost unknown at Dr. Middleton's; but he brought all these +ideas fresh from a great public school, at which he had been +educated—at which he had acquired a sufficient quantity of +Greek and Latin, and a superabundant quantity of party spirit. +His aim, the moment he came to a new school, was to get to +the head of it, or at least to form the strongest party. His +influence, for he was a boy of considerable abilities, was quickly +felt, though he had a powerful rival, as he thought proper to +call him, in De Grey; and, with <i>him</i>, a rival was always an +enemy. De Grey, so far from giving him any cause of hatred,<span class="pagenum">[308]</span> +treated him with a degree of cordiality which would probably +have had an effect upon Archer's mind, if it had not been for +the artifices of Fisher.</p> + +<p>It may seem surprising that a <i>great dunce</i> should be able +to work upon a boy like Archer, who was called a great +genius; but when genius is joined to a violent temper, instead +of being united to good sense, it is at the mercy even of +dunces.</p> + +<p>Fisher was mortally offended one morning by De Grey's +refusing to translate his whole lesson for him. He went over +to Archer, who, considering him as a partisan deserting from +the enemy, received him with open arms, and translated his +whole lesson, without expressing <i>much</i> contempt for his +stupidity. From this moment Fisher forgot all De Grey's +former kindness, and considered only how he could in his +turn mortify the person whom he felt to be so much his +superior.</p> + +<p>De Grey and Archer were now reading for a premium, +which was to be given in their class. Fisher betted on Archer's +head, who had not sense enough to despise the bet of a blockhead. +On the contrary, he suffered him to excite the spirit of +rivalship in its utmost fury by collecting the bets of all the +school. So that this premium now became a matter of the +greatest consequence, and Archer, instead of taking the means +to secure a judgment in his favour, was listening to the opinions +of all his companions. It was a prize which was to be won +by his own exertions; but he suffered himself to consider it +as an affair of chance. The consequence was, that he trusted +to chance—his partisans lost their wagers, and he the premium—and +his temper.</p> + +<p>'Mr. Archer,' said Dr. Middleton, after the grand affair was +decided, 'you have done all that genius alone could do; but +you, De Grey, have done all that genius and industry united +could do.'</p> + +<p>'Well!' cried Archer, with affected gaiety, as soon as the +doctor had left the room—'well, I'm content with <i>my</i> sentence. +Genius alone for me—industry for those who <i>want</i> it,' added +he, with a significant look at De Grey.</p> + +<p>Fisher applauded this as a very spirited speech; and, by +insinuations that Dr. Middleton 'always gave the premium to +De Grey,' and 'that those who had lost their bets might thank<span class="pagenum">[309]</span> +themselves for it, for being such simpletons as to bet against +the favourite,' he raised a murmur highly flattering to Archer +amongst some of the most credulous boys; whilst others loudly +proclaimed their belief in Dr. Middleton's impartiality. These +warmly congratulated De Grey. At this Archer grew more +and more angry, and when Fisher was proceeding to speak +nonsense <i>for</i> him, pushed forward into the circle to De Grey, +crying, 'I wish, Mr. Fisher, you would let me fight my own +battles!'</p> + +<p>'And <i>I</i> wish,' said young Townsend, who was fonder of +diversions than of premiums, or battles, or of anything else—'<i>I</i> +wish that we were not to have any battles; after having +worked like horses, don't set about to fight like dogs. Come,' +said he, tapping De Grey's shoulder, 'let us see your new +playhouse, do—it's a holiday, and let us make the most of it. +Let us have the "School for Scandal," do; and I'll play Charles +for you, and you, De Grey, shall be <i>my little Premium</i>. Come, +do open this new playhouse of yours to-night.'</p> + +<p>'Come then!' said De Grey, and he ran across the playground +to a waste building at the farthest end of it, in which, +at the earnest request of the whole community, and with the +permission of Dr. Middleton, he had with much pain and +ingenuity erected a theatre.</p> + +<p>'The new theatre is going to be opened! Follow the +manager! Follow the manager!' echoed a multitude of +voices.</p> + +<p>'<i>Follow the manager!</i>' echoed very disagreeably in Archer's +ear; but as he could not be <i>left alone</i>, he was also obliged to +follow the manager. The moment that the door was unlocked, +the crowd rushed in; the delight and wonder expressed at the +sight were great, and the applause and thanks which were bestowed +upon the manager were long and loud.</p> + +<p>Archer at least thought them long, for he was impatient till +his voice could be heard. When at length the acclamations +had spent themselves, he walked across the stage with a +knowing air, and looking round contemptuously—</p> + +<p>'And is <i>this</i> your famous playhouse?' cried he. 'I wish +you had, any of you, seen the playhouse <i>I</i> have been used to?'</p> + +<p>These words made a great and visible change in the feelings +and opinions of the public. 'Who would be a servant of the +public? or who would toil for popular applause?' A few words<span class="pagenum">[310]</span> +spoken in a decisive tone by a new voice operated as a charm, +and the playhouse was in an instant metamorphosed in the eyes +of the spectators. All gratitude for the past was forgotten, and +the expectation of something better justified to the capricious +multitude their disdain of what they had so lately pronounced +to be excellent.</p> + +<p>Every one now began to criticise. One observed 'that the +green curtain was full of holes, and would not draw up.' +Another attacked the scenes. 'Scenes! they were not like +real scenes—Archer must know best, because he was used to +these things.' So everybody crowded to hear something of the +<i>other</i> playhouse. They gathered round Archer to hear the +description of his playhouse, and at every sentence insulting +comparisons were made. When he had done, his auditors +looked round, sighed, and wished that Archer had been their +manager. They turned from De Grey as from a person who +had done them an injury. Some of his friends—for he had +friends who were not swayed by the popular opinion—felt +indignation at this ingratitude, and were going to express +their feelings; but De Grey stopped them, and begged that +he might speak for himself.</p> + +<p>'Gentlemen,' said he, coming forward, as soon as he felt +that he had sufficient command of himself. 'My friends, I see +you are discontented with me and my playhouse. I have done +my best to please you; but if anybody else can please you +better, I shall be glad of it. I did not work so hard for the +glory of being your manager. You have my free leave to tear +down——' Here his voice faltered, but he hurried on—'You +have my free leave to tear down all my work as fast as you +please. Archer, shake hands first, however, to show that +there's no malice in the case.'</p> + +<p>Archer, who was touched by what his rival said, and +stopping the hand of his new partisan, Fisher, cried, 'No, +Fisher! no!—no pulling down. We can alter it. There is a +great deal of ingenuity in it, considering.'</p> + +<p>In vain Archer would now have recalled the public to reason,—the +time for reason was past: enthusiasm had taken hold +of their minds. 'Down with it! Down with it! Archer for +ever!' cried Fisher, and tore down the curtain. The riot once +begun, nothing could stop the little mob, till the whole theatre +was demolished. The love of power prevailed in the mind of<span class="pagenum">[311]</span> +Archer; he was secretly flattered by the zeal of his <i>party</i>, and +he mistook their love of mischief for attachment to himself. +De Grey looked on superior. 'I said I could bear to see all +this, and I can,' said he; 'now it is all over.' And now it +was all over, there was silence. The rioters stood still to take +breath, and to look at what they had done. There was a +blank space before them.</p> + +<p>In this moment of silence there was heard something like +a female voice. 'Hush! What strange voice is that?' said +Archer. Fisher caught fast hold of his arm. Everybody +looked round to see where the voice came from. It was dusk. +Two window-shutters at the farthest end of the building were +seen to move slowly inwards. De Grey, and in the same +instant Archer, went forward; and, as the shutters opened, +there appeared through the hole the dark face and shrivelled +hands of a very old gipsy. She did not speak; but she looked +first at one and then at another. At length she fixed her eyes +on De Grey. 'Well, my good woman,' said he, 'what do you +want with me?' 'Want!—nothing—with <i>you</i>,' said the old +woman; 'do you want nothing with <i>me</i>?' 'Nothing,' said +De Grey. Her eye immediately turned upon Archer,—'<i>You</i> +want something with me,' said she, with emphasis. 'I—what +do I want?' replied Archer. 'No,' said she, changing her +tone, 'you want nothing—nothing will you ever want, or I am +much mistaken in that <i>face</i>.'</p> + +<p>In that <i>watch-chain</i>, she should have said, for her quick eye +had espied Archer's watch-chain. He was the only person in +the company who had a watch, and she therefore judged him +to be the richest.</p> + +<p>'Had you ever your fortune told, sir, in your life?' 'Not +I,' said he, looking at De Grey, as if he was afraid of his +ridicule, if he listened to the gipsy. 'Not you! No! for you +will make your own fortune, and the fortune of all that belong +to you!'</p> + +<p>'There's good news for my friends,' cried Archer. 'And +I'm one of them, remember that,' cried Fisher. 'And I,' +'And I,' joined a number of voices. 'Good luck to them!' +cried the gipsy, 'good luck to them all!'</p> + +<p>Then, as soon as they had acquired sufficient confidence in +her good will, they pressed up to the window. 'There,' cried +Townsend, as he chanced to stumble over the carpenter's mitre<span class="pagenum">[312]</span> +box, which stood in the way, 'there's a good omen for me. +I've stumbled on the mitre box; I shall certainly be a bishop.'</p> + +<p>Happy he who had sixpence, for he bid fair to be a judge +upon the bench. And happier he who had a shilling, for he +was in the high road to be one day upon the woolsack, Lord +High Chancellor of England. No one had half-a-crown, or +no one would surely have kept it in his pocket upon such an +occasion, for he might have been an archbishop, a king, or +what he pleased.</p> + +<p>Fisher, who like all weak people was extremely credulous, +had kept his post immovable in the front row all the time, his +mouth open, and his stupid eyes fixed upon the gipsy, in whom +he felt implicit faith.</p> + +<p>Those who have least confidence in their own powers, and +who have least expectation from the success of their own exertions, +are always most disposed to trust in fortune-tellers and +fortune. They hope to <i>win</i>, when they cannot <i>earn</i>; and as +they can never be convinced by those who speak sense, it is +no wonder they are always persuaded by those who talk +nonsense.</p> + +<p>'I have a question to put,' said Fisher, in a solemn tone. +'Put it, then,' said Archer, 'what hinders you?' 'But they +will hear me,' said he, looking suspiciously at De Grey. '<i>I</i> +shall not hear you,' said De Grey, 'I am going.' Everybody +else drew back, and left him to whisper his question in the +gipsy's ear. 'What is become of my Livy?' 'Your <i>sister</i> +Livy, do you mean?' said the gipsy. 'No, my <i>Latin</i> Livy.'</p> + +<p>The gipsy paused for information. 'It had a leaf torn out +in the beginning, and <i>I hate Dr. Middleton</i>——' 'Written in +it,' interrupted the gipsy. 'Right—the very book!' cried +Fisher with joy. 'But how <i>could</i> you know it was Dr. Middleton's +name? I thought I had scratched it, so that nobody +could make it out.' 'Nobody <i>could</i> make it out but <i>me</i>,' replied +the gipsy. 'But never think to deceive me,' said she, shaking +her head at him in a manner that made him tremble. 'I don't +deceive you indeed, I tell you the whole truth. I lost it a week +ago.' 'True.' 'And when shall I find it?' 'Meet me here +at this hour to-morrow evening, and I will answer you. No +more! I must be gone. Not a word more to-night.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i030f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i030t.jpg" alt="i030"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>'What is become of my Livy?' 'Your sister Livy, do you mean?'</i></p> +</div> + +<p>She pulled the shutters towards her, and left the youth in +darkness. All his companions were gone. He had been so<span class="pagenum">[314]</span> +deeply engaged in this conference, that he had not perceived +their departure. He found all the world at supper, but no +entreaties could prevail upon him to disclose his secret. Townsend +rallied in vain. As for Archer, he was not disposed to +destroy by ridicule the effect which he saw that the old +woman's predictions in his favour had had upon the imagination +of many of his little partisans. He had privately slipped +two good shillings into the gipsy's hand to secure her; for he +was willing to pay any price for <i>any</i> means of acquiring +power.</p> + +<p>The watch-chain had not deceived the gipsy, for Archer +was the richest person in the community. His friends had imprudently +supplied him with more money than is usually trusted +to boys of his age. Dr. Middleton had refused to give him a +larger monthly allowance than the rest of his companions; but +he brought to school with him secretly the sum of five guineas. +This appeared to his friends and to himself an inexhaustible +treasure.</p> + +<p>Riches and talents would, he flattered himself, secure to him +that ascendency of which he was so ambitious. 'Am I your +manager or not?' was now his question. 'I scorn to take +advantage of a hasty moment; but since last night you have +had time to consider. If you desire me to be your manager, +you shall see what a theatre I will make for you. In this +purse,' said he, showing through the network a glimpse of the +shining treasure—'in this purse is Aladdin's wonderful lamp. +Am I your manager? Put it to the vote.'</p> + +<p>It was put to the vote. About ten of the most reasonable +of the assembly declared their gratitude and high approbation +of their old friend, De Grey; but the numbers were in favour +of the new friend. And as no metaphysical distinctions relative +to the idea of a majority had ever entered their thoughts, the +most numerous party considered themselves as now beyond +dispute in the right. They drew off on one side in triumph, +and their leader, who knew the consequence of a name in party +matters, immediately distinguished his partisans by the gallant +name of <i>Archers</i>, stigmatising the friends of De Grey by the +odious epithet of Greybeards.</p> + +<p>Amongst the Archers was a class not very remarkable for +their mental qualifications; but who, by their bodily activity, +and by the peculiar advantages annexed to their way of life,<span class="pagenum">[315]</span> +rendered themselves of the highest consequence, especially to +the rich and enterprising.</p> + +<p>The judicious reader will apprehend that I allude to the +persons called day scholars. Amongst these, Fisher was +distinguished by his knowledge of all the streets and shops in +the adjacent town; and, though a dull scholar, he had such +reputation as a man of business that whoever had commissions +to execute at the confectioner's was sure to apply to him. +Some of the youngest of his employers had, it is true, at times +complained that he made mistakes of halfpence and pence in +their accounts; but as these affairs could never be brought to +a public trial, Fisher's character and consequence were undiminished, +till the fatal day when his Aunt Barbara forbade +his visits to the confectioner's; or rather, till she requested the +confectioner, who had his private reasons for obeying her, not +<i>to receive</i> her nephew's visits, as he had made himself sick at +his house, and Mrs. Barbara's fears for his health were incessant.</p> + +<p>Though his visits to the confectioner's were thus at an end, +there were many other shops open to him; and with officious +zeal he offered his services to the new manager, to purchase +whatever might be wanting for the theatre.</p> + +<p>Since his father's death Fisher had become a boarder at +Dr. Middleton's, but his frequent visits to his Aunt Barbara +afforded him opportunities of going into the town. The carpenter, +De Grey's friend, was discarded by Archer, for having +said '<i>lack-a-daisy!</i>' when he saw that the old theatre was +pulled down. A new carpenter and paper-hanger, recommended +by Fisher, were appointed to attend, with their tools, +for orders, at two o'clock. Archer, impatient to show his +ingenuity and his generosity, gave his plan and his orders in a +few minutes, in a most decided manner. 'These things,' he +observed, 'should be done with some spirit.'</p> + +<p>To which the carpenter readily assented, and added that +'gentlemen of spirit never looked to the <i>expense</i>, but always to +the <i>effect</i>.' Upon this principle Mr. Chip set to work with all +possible alacrity. In a few hours' time he promised to produce +a grand effect. High expectations were formed. Nothing was +talked of but the new playhouse; and so intent upon it was +every head, that no lessons could be got. Archer was obliged, +in the midst of his various occupations, to perform the part of +grammar and dictionary for twenty different people.<span class="pagenum">[316]</span></p> + +<p>'O ye Athenians!' he exclaimed, 'how hard do I work to +obtain your praise!'</p> + +<p>Impatient to return to the theatre, the moment the hours +destined for instruction, or, as they are termed by schoolboys, +school-hours, were over each prisoner started up with a shout +of joy.</p> + +<p>'Stop one moment, gentlemen, if you please,' said Dr. +Middleton, in an awful voice. 'Mr. Archer, return to your +place. Are you all here?' The names of all the boys were +called over, and when each had answered to his name, Dr. +Middleton said—</p> + +<p>'Gentlemen, I am sorry to interrupt your amusements; but, +till you have contrary orders from me, no one, on pain of my +serious displeasure, must go into <i>that</i> building' (pointing to +the place where the theatre was erecting). 'Mr. Archer, your +carpenter is at the door. You will be so good as to dismiss +him. I do not think proper to give my reasons for these +orders; but you who <i>know</i> me,' said the doctor, and his eye +turned towards De Grey, 'will not suspect me of caprice. I +depend, gentlemen, upon your obedience.'</p> + +<p>To the dead silence with which these orders were received, +succeeded in a few minutes a universal groan. 'So!' said +Townsend, 'all our diversion is over.' 'So,' whispered Fisher +in the manager's ear, 'this is some trick of the Greybeards'. +Did you not observe how he looked at De Grey?'</p> + +<p>Fired by this thought, which had never entered his mind +before, Archer started from his reverie, and striking his hand +upon the table, swore that he 'would not be outwitted by any +Greybeard in Europe—no, nor by all of them put together. +The Archers were surely a match for them. He would stand +by them, if they would stand by him,' he declared, with a loud +voice, 'against the whole world, and Dr. Middleton himself, +with "<i>Little Premium</i>" at his right hand.'</p> + +<p>Everybody admired Archer's spirit, but was a little appalled +at the sound of standing against Dr. Middleton.</p> + +<p>'Why not?' resumed the indignant manager. 'Neither +Dr. Middleton nor any doctor upon earth shall treat me with +injustice. This, you see, is a stroke at me and my party, and +I won't bear it.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, you are mistaken!' said De Grey, who was the only +one who dared to oppose reason to the angry orator. 'It cannot<span class="pagenum">[317]</span> +be a stroke aimed at "you and your party," for he does +not know that you <i>have</i> a party.'</p> + +<p>'I'll make him know it, and I'll make <i>you</i> know it, too,' said +Archer. 'Before I came here you reigned alone; now your +reign is over, Mr. De Grey. Remember my majority this +morning, and your theatre last night.'</p> + +<p>'He has remembered it,' said Fisher. 'You see, the +moment he was not to be our manager, we were to have no +theatre, no playhouse, no plays. We must all sit down with +our hands before us—all for "<i>good reasons</i>" of Dr. Middleton's, +which he does not vouchsafe to tell us.'</p> + +<p>'I won't be governed by any man's reasons that he won't +tell me,' cried Archer. 'He cannot have good reasons, or why +not tell them?' 'Nonsense!' said De Grey. '<i>We shall not +suspect him of caprice!</i>' 'Why not?' 'Because we who know +him have never known him capricious.' 'Perhaps not. <i>I</i> +know nothing about him,' said Archer. 'No,' said De Grey; +'for that very reason <i>I</i> speak who do know him. Don't be in +a passion, Archer.' 'I will be in a passion. I won't submit +to tyranny. I won't be made a fool of by a few soft words. +You don't know me, De Grey. I'll go through with what I've +begun. I am manager, and I will be manager; and you shall +see my theatre finished in spite of you, and <i>my</i> party +triumphant.'</p> + +<p>'Party,' repeated De Grey. 'I cannot imagine what is in +the word "party" that seems to drive you mad. We never +heard of parties till you came amongst us.'</p> + +<p>'No; before I came, I say, nobody dared oppose you; but +<i>I</i> dare; and I tell you to your face, take care of me—a warm +friend and a bitter enemy is my motto.' 'I am not your +enemy! I believe you are out of your senses, Archer!' said +he, laughing. 'Out of my senses! No; you are my enemy! +Are you not my rival? Did you not win the premium? Did +not you want to be manager? Answer me, are not you, in one +word, a Greybeard?' 'You called me a Greybeard, but my +name is De Grey,' said he, still laughing. 'Laugh on!' cried +the other, furiously. 'Come, <i>Archers</i>, follow me. <i>We</i> shall +laugh by-and-by, I promise you.' At the door Archer was +stopped by Mr. Chip. 'Oh, Mr. Chip, I am ordered to discharge +you.' 'Yes, sir; and here's a little bill——' 'Bill, +Mr. Chip! why, you have not been at work for two hours!' +<span class="pagenum">[318]</span> +'Not much over, sir; but if you'll please to look into it, you'll +see 'tis for a few things you ordered. The stuff is all laid out and +delivered. The paper and the festoon-bordering for the drawing-room +scene is cut out, and left y<i>a</i>nder within.' 'Y<i>a</i>nder +within! I wish you had not been in such a confounded hurry—six-and-twenty +shillings!' cried he; 'but I can't stay to talk +about it now. I'll tell you, Mr. Chip,' said Archer, lowering +his voice, 'what you must do for me, my good fellow.'</p> + +<p>Then, drawing Mr. Chip aside, he begged him to pull down +some of the woodwork which had been put up, and to cut it +into a certain number of wooden bars, of which he gave him +the dimensions, with orders to place them all, when ready, +under a haystack, which he pointed out.</p> + +<p>Mr. Chip scrupled and hesitated, and began to talk of '<i>the +doctor</i>.' Archer immediately began to talk of the bill, and +throwing down a guinea and a half, the conscientious carpenter +pocketed the money directly, and made his bow.</p> + +<p>'Well, Master Archer,' said he, 'there's no refusing you +nothing. You have such a way of talking one out of it. You +manage me just like a child.'</p> + +<p>'Ay, ay!' said Archer, knowing that he had been cheated, +and yet proud of managing a carpenter, 'ay, ay! I know the +way to manage everybody. Let the things be ready in an +hour's time; and hark'e! leave your tools by mistake behind +you, and a thousand of twenty-penny nails. Ask no questions, +and keep your own counsel like a wise man. Off with you, +and take care of "<i>the doctor</i>."'</p> + +<p>'Archers, Archers, to the Archers' tree! Follow your +leader,' cried he, sounding his well-known whistle as a signal. +His followers gathered round him, and he, raising himself +upon the mount at the foot of the tree, counted his numbers, +and then, in a voice lower than usual, addressed them thus:— +'My friends, is there a Greybeard amongst us? If there is, let +him walk off at once, he has my free leave.' No one stirred. +'Then we are all Archers, and we will stand by one another. +Join hands, my friends.' They all joined hands. 'Promise +me not to betray me, and I will go on. I ask no security but +your honour.' They all gave their honour to be secret and +<i>faithful</i>, as he called it, and he went on. 'Did you ever hear +of such a thing as a "<i>Barring Out</i>," my friends?' They +had heard of such a thing, but they had only heard of it.<span class="pagenum">[319]</span></p> + +<p>Archer gave the history of a 'Barring Out' in which he +had been concerned at his school, in which the boys stood out +against the master, and gained their point at last, which was a +week's more holidays at Easter.<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> 'But if <i>we</i> should not +succeed,' said they, 'Dr. Middleton is so steady; he never +goes back from what he has said.' 'Did you ever try to push +him back? Let us be steady and he'll tremble. Tyrants +always tremble when——' 'Oh,' interrupted a number of voices, +'but he is not a tyrant—is he?' 'All schoolmasters are +tyrants—are not they?' replied Archer; 'and is not he a +schoolmaster?' To this logic there was no answer; but, still +reluctant, they asked, 'What they should <i>get</i> by a Barring +Out?' 'Get!—everything!—what we want!—which is everything +to lads of spirit—victory and liberty! Bar him out till +he repeals his tyrannical law; till he lets us into our own +theatre again, or till he tells us his "<i>good reasons</i>" against it.' +'But perhaps he has reasons for not telling us.' 'Impossible!' +cried Archer; 'that's the way we are always to be governed +by a man in a wig, who says he has good reasons, and can't +tell them. Are you fools? Go! go back to De Grey! I see +you are all Greybeards. Go! Who goes first?' Nobody +would go <i>first</i>. 'I will have nothing to do with ye, if ye are +resolved to be slaves!' 'We won't be slaves!' they all exclaimed +at once. 'Then,' said Archer, 'stand out in the right +and be free.'</p> + +<p>'<i>The right.</i>' It would have taken up too much time to +examine what 'the right' was. Archer was always sure that +<span class="pagenum">[320]</span>'<i>the right</i>' was what his party chose to do; that is, what he +chose to do himself; and such is the influence of numbers +upon each other, in conquering the feelings of shame and in +confusing the powers of reasoning, that in a few minutes 'the +right' was forgotten, and each said to himself, 'To be sure, +Archer is a very clever boy, and he can't be mistaken'; or, +'To be sure, Townsend thinks so, and he would not do anything +to get us into a scrape'; or, 'To be sure, everybody will agree +to this but myself, and I can't stand out alone, to be pointed +at as a Greybeard and a slave. Everybody thinks it is right, +and everybody can't be wrong.'</p> + +<p>By some of these arguments, which passed rapidly through +the mind without his being conscious of them, each boy decided, +and deceived himself—what none would have done alone, none +scrupled to do as a party. It was determined, then, that there +should be a Barring Out. The arrangement of the affair was +left to their new manager, to whom they all pledged implicit +obedience. Obedience, it seems, is necessary, even from +rebels to their ringleaders; not reasonable, but implicit +obedience.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had the assembly adjourned to the Ball-alley, when +Fisher, with an important length of face, came up to the +manager, and desired to speak one word to him. 'My advice +to you, Archer, is, to do nothing in this till we have consulted +<i>you know who</i>, about whether it's right or wrong.' '"<i>You +know who</i>"! Whom do you mean? Make haste, and don't +make so many faces, for I'm in a hurry. Who is "<i>You know +who</i>"?' 'The old woman,' said Fisher, gravely; 'the gipsy.' +'You may consult the old woman,' said Archer, bursting out +a-laughing, 'about what's right and wrong, if you please, but +no old woman shall decide for me.' 'No; but you don't <i>take</i> +me,' said Fisher; 'you don't <i>take</i> me. By right and wrong, +I mean lucky and unlucky.' 'Whatever <i>I</i> do will be lucky,' +replied Archer. 'My gipsy told you that already.' 'I know, +I know,' said Fisher, 'and what she said about your friends +being lucky—that went a great way with many,' added he, with +a sagacious nod of his head, 'I can tell you <i>that</i>—more than +you think. Do you know,' said he, laying hold of Archer's +button, 'I'm in the secret? There are nine of us have crooked +our little fingers upon it, not to stir a step till we get her +advice; and she has appointed me to meet her about particular<span class="pagenum">[321]</span> +business of my own at eight. So I'm to consult her and to +bring her answer.'</p> + +<p>Archer knew too well how to govern fools to attempt to +reason with them; and, instead of laughing any longer at +Fisher's ridiculous superstition, he was determined to take +advantage of it. He affected to be persuaded of the wisdom of +the measure; looked at his watch; urged him to be exact to a +moment; conjured him to remember exactly the words of the +oracle; and, above all things, to demand the lucky hour and +minute when the Barring Out should begin. With these +instructions Archer put his watch into the solemn dupe's hand, +and left him to count the seconds till the moment of his appointment, +whilst he ran off himself to prepare the oracle.</p> + +<p>At a little gate which looked into a lane, through which he +guessed that the gipsy must pass, he stationed himself, saw +her, gave her half-a-crown and her instructions, made his escape, +and got back unsuspected to Fisher, whom he found in the +attitude in which he had left him, watching the motion of the +minute hand.</p> + +<p>Proud of his secret commission, Fisher slouched his hat, he +knew not why, over his face, and proceeded towards the appointed +spot. To keep, as he had been charged by Archer, +within the letter of the law, he stood <i>behind</i> the forbidden +building, and waited some minutes.</p> + +<p>Through a gap in the hedge the old woman at length made +her appearance, muffled up, and looking cautiously about her. +'There's nobody near us!' said Fisher, and he began to be a +little afraid. 'What answer,' said he, recollecting himself, +'about my Livy?' 'Lost! lost! lost!' said the gipsy, lifting +up her hands; 'never, never, never to be found! But no +matter for that now: that is not your errand to-night; no +tricks with me; speak to me of what is next your heart.'</p> + +<p>Fisher, astonished, put his hand upon his heart, told her all +that she knew before, and received the answers that Archer +had dictated: 'That the Archers should be lucky as long as +they stuck to their manager and to one another; that the +Barring Out should end in woe, if not begun precisely as the +clock should strike nine on Wednesday night; but if begun in +that <i>lucky</i> moment, and all obedient to their <i>lucky</i> leader, all +should end well.'</p> + +<p>A thought, a provident thought, now struck Fisher; for<span class="pagenum">[322]</span> +even he had some foresight where his favourite passion was +concerned. 'Pray, in our Barring Out shall we be starved?' +'No,' said the gipsy, 'not if you trust to me for food, and if +you give me money enough. Silver won't do for so many; +gold is what must cross my hand.' 'I have no gold,' said +Fisher, 'and I don't know what you mean by "so many." +I'm only talking of number one, you know. I must take care +of that first.'</p> + +<p>So, as Fisher thought it was possible that Archer, clever as +he was, might be disappointed in his supplies, he determined +to take secret measures for himself. His Aunt Barbara's interdiction +had shut him out of the confectioner's shop; but he +flattered himself that he could outwit his aunt; he therefore +begged the gipsy to procure him twelve buns by Thursday +morning, and bring them secretly to one of the windows of the +schoolroom.</p> + +<p>As Fisher did not produce any money when he made this +proposal, it was at first absolutely rejected; but a bribe at +length conquered his difficulties: and the bribe which Fisher +found himself obliged to give—for he had no pocket money +left of his own, he being as much <i>restricted</i> in that article as +Archer was <i>indulged</i>—the bribe that he found himself obliged +to give to quiet the gipsy was half-a-crown, which Archer had +entrusted to him to buy candles for the theatre. 'Oh,' thought +he to himself, 'Archer's so careless about money, he will +never think of asking me for the half-crown again; and now +he'll want no candles for the <i>theatre</i>; or, at any rate, it will be +some time first; and maybe Aunt Barbara may be got to +give me that much at Christmas; then, if the worst comes to +the worst, one can pay Archer. My mouth waters for the +buns, and have 'em I must now.'</p> + +<p>So, for the hope of twelve buns, he sacrificed the money +which had been entrusted to him. Thus the meanest motives, +in mean minds, often prompt to the commission of those great +faults to which one should think nothing but some violent +passion could have tempted.</p> + +<p>The ambassador having thus, in his opinion, concluded his +own and the public business, returned well satisfied with the +result, after receiving the gipsy's reiterated promise to tap <i>three +times</i> at the window on Thursday morning.</p> + +<p>The day appointed for the Barring Out at length arrived;<span class="pagenum">[323]</span> +and Archer, assembling the confederates, informed them that +all was prepared for carrying their design into execution; that +he now depended for success upon their punctuality and +courage. He had, within the last two hours, got all their bars +ready to fasten the doors and window shutters of the schoolroom; +he had, with the assistance of two of the day scholars +who were of the party, sent into the town for provisions, at his +own expense, which would make a handsome supper for that +night; he had also negotiated with some cousins of his, who +lived in the town, for a constant supply in future. 'Bless me,' +exclaimed Archer, suddenly stopping in this narration of his +services, 'there's one thing, after all, I've forgot, we shall be +undone without it. Fisher, pray did you ever buy the candles +for the playhouse?' 'No, to be sure,' replied Fisher, extremely +frightened; 'you know you don't want candles for the +playhouse now.' 'Not for the playhouse, but for the Barring +Out. We shall be in the dark, man. You must run this +minute, run.' 'For candles?' said Fisher, confused; 'how +many?—what sort?' 'Stupidity!' exclaimed Archer, 'you +are a pretty fellow at a dead lift! Lend me a pencil and a +bit of paper, do; I'll write down what I want myself! Well, +what are you fumbling for?' 'For money!' said Fisher, +colouring. 'Money, man! Didn't I give you half-a-crown the +other day?' 'Yes,' replied Fisher, stammering; 'but I wasn't +sure that that might be enough.' 'Enough! yes, to be sure it +will. I don't know what you are <i>at</i>.' 'Nothing, nothing,' +said Fisher; 'here, write upon this, then,' said Fisher, putting a +piece of paper into Archer's hand, upon which Archer wrote +his orders. 'Away, away!' cried he.</p> + +<p>Away went Fisher. He returned; but not until a considerable +time afterwards. They were at supper when he +returned. 'Fisher always comes in at supper-time,' observed +one of the Greybeards, carelessly. 'Well, and would you +have him come in <i>after</i> supper-time?' said Townsend, who +always supplied his party with ready <i>wit</i>. 'I've got the +candles,' whispered Fisher as he passed by Archer to his place. +'And the tinder-box?' said Archer. 'Yes; I got back from +my Aunt Barbara under pretence that I must study for repetition +day an hour later to-night. So I got leave. Was not +that clever?'</p> + +<p>A dunce always thinks it clever to cheat even by <i>sober lies</i>.<span class="pagenum">[324]</span> +How Mr. Fisher procured the candles and the tinder-box +without money and without credit we shall discover +further on.</p> + +<p>Archer and his associates had agreed to stay the last in the +schoolroom; and as soon as the Greybeards were gone out to +bed, he, as the signal, was to shut and lock one door, Townsend +the other. A third conspirator was to strike a light, in +case they should not be able to secure a candle. A fourth +was to take charge of the candle as soon as lighted; and all +the rest were to run to their bars, which were secreted in a +room; then to fix them to the common fastening bars of the +window, in the manner in which they had been previously +instructed by the manager. Thus each had his part assigned, +and each was warned that the success of the whole depended +upon their order and punctuality.</p> + +<p>Order and punctuality, it appears, are necessary even in a +Barring Out; and even rebellion must have its laws.</p> + +<p>The long-expected moment at length arrived. De Grey +and his friends, unconscious of what was going forward, walked +out of the schoolroom as usual at bedtime. The clock began +to strike nine. There was one Greybeard left in the room, +who was packing up some of his books, which had been left +about by accident. It is impossible to describe the impatience +with which he was watched, especially by Fisher and the nine +who depended upon the gipsy oracle.</p> + +<p>When he had got all his books together under his arm, he +let one of them fall; and whilst he stooped to pick it up, +Archer gave the signal. The doors were shut, locked, and +double-locked in an instant. A light was struck and each ran +to his post. The bars were all in the same moment put up to +the windows, and Archer, when he had tried them all, and +seen that they were secure, gave a loud 'Huzza!'—in which +he was joined by all the party most manfully—by all but the +poor Greybeard, who, the picture of astonishment, stood +stock still in the midst of them with his books under his arm; +at which spectacle Townsend, who enjoyed the <i>frolic</i> of the +fray more than anything else, burst into an immoderate fit of +laughter. 'So, my little Greybeard,' said he, holding a candle +full in his eyes, 'what think you of all this?—How came you +amongst the wicked ones?' 'I don't know, indeed,' said the +little boy, very gravely; 'you shut me up amongst you.<span class="pagenum">[325]</span> +Won't you let me out?' 'Let you out! No, no, my little +Greybeard,' said Archer, catching hold of him and dragging +him to the window bars. 'Look ye here—touch these—put +your hand to them—pull, push, kick—put a little spirit into it, +man—kick like an Archer, if you can; away with ye. It's a +pity that the king of the Greybeards is not here to admire me. +I should like to show him our fortifications. But come, my +merry men all, now to the feast. Out with the table into the +middle of the room. Good cheer, my jolly Archers! I'm your +manager!'</p> + +<p>Townsend, delighted with the bustle, rubbed his hands +and capered about the room, whilst the preparations for the +feast were hurried forward. 'Four candles!—Four candles +on the table. Let's have things in style when we are about it, +Mr. Manager,' cried Townsend. 'Places!—Places! There's +nothing like a fair scramble, my boys. Let every one take +care of himself. Hallo, Greybeard! I've knocked Greybeard +down here in the scuffle. Get up again, my lad, and see a +little life.'</p> + +<p>'No, no,' cried Fisher, 'he shan't <i>sup</i> with us.' 'No, no,' +cried the manager, 'he shan't <i>live</i> with us; a Greybeard is +not fit company for Archers.' 'No, no,' cried Townsend, +'evil communication corrupts good manners.'</p> + +<p>So with one unanimous hiss they hunted the poor little +gentle boy into a corner; and having pent him up with +benches, Fisher opened his books for him, which he thought +the greatest mortification, and set up a candle beside him. +'There, now he looks like a Greybeard as he is!' cried they. +'Tell me what's the Latin for cold roast beef?' said Fisher, +exultingly, and they returned to their feast.</p> + +<p>Long and loud they revelled. They had a few bottles of +cider. 'Give me the corkscrew, the cider shan't be kept till +it's sour,' cried Townsend, in answer to the manager, who, when +he beheld the provisions vanishing with surprising rapidity, +began to fear for the morrow. 'Hang to-morrow!' cried +Townsend, 'let Greybeards think of to-morrow; Mr. Manager, +here's your good health.'</p> + +<p>The Archers all stood up as their cups were filled, to drink +the health of their chief with a universal cheer. But at the +moment that the cups were at their lips, and as Archer bowed +to thank the company, a sudden shower from above astonished<span class="pagenum">[326]</span> +the whole assembly. They looked up, and beheld the rose of +a watering-engine, whose long neck appeared through a trap-door +in the ceiling. 'Your good health, Mr. Manager!' said +a voice, which was known to be the gardener's; and in the +midst of their surprise and dismay the candles were suddenly +extinguished; the trap-door shut down; and they were left in +utter darkness.</p> + +<p>'The <i>Devil</i>!' said Archer. 'Don't swear, Mr. Manager,' +said the same voice from the ceiling, 'I hear every word you +say.' 'Mercy upon us!' exclaimed Fisher. 'The clock,' +added he, whispering, 'must have been wrong, for it had +not done striking when we began. Only, you remember, +Archer, it had just done before you had done locking your +door.' 'Hold your tongue, blockhead!' said Archer. 'Well, +boys! were ye never in the dark before? You are not afraid +of a shower of rain, I hope. Is anybody drowned?' 'No,' +said they, with a faint laugh, 'but what shall we do here in the +dark all night long, and all day to-morrow? We can't unbar +the shutters.' 'It's a wonder <i>nobody</i> ever thought of the trap-door!' +said Townsend.</p> + +<p>The trap-door had indeed escaped the manager's observation. +As the house was new to him, and the ceiling being +newly whitewashed, the opening was scarcely perceptible. +Vexed to be out-generalled, and still more vexed to have it +remarked, Archer poured forth a volley of incoherent exclamations +and reproaches against those who were thus so soon discouraged +by a trifle; and groping for the tinder-box, he asked +if anything could be easier than to strike a light again.<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> The +light appeared. But at the moment that it made the tinder-box +visible, another shower from above, aimed, and aimed +exactly, at the tinder-box, drenched it with water, and rendered +it totally unfit for further service. Archer in a fury dashed it +to the ground. And now for the first time he felt what it was +to be the unsuccessful head of a party. He heard in his turn +the murmurs of a discontented, changeable populace; and +recollecting all his bars and bolts, and ingenious contrivances, +he was more provoked at their blaming him for this one only +oversight than he was grieved at the disaster itself.</p> + +<p>'Oh, my hair is all wet!' cried one, dolefully. 'Wring it +then,' said Archer. 'My hand's cut with your broken glass,' +<span class="pagenum">[327]</span> +cried another. 'Glass!' cried a third; 'mercy! is there broken +glass? and it's all about, I suppose, amongst the supper; and +I had but one bit of bread all the time.' 'Bread!' cried Archer; +'eat if you want it. Here's a piece here, and no glass near it.' +'It's all wet, and I don't like dry bread by itself; that's no feast.'</p> + +<p>'Heigh-day! What, nothing but moaning and grumbling! +If these are the joys of <i>a Barring Out</i>,' cried Townsend, 'I'd +rather be snug in my bed. I expected that we should have sat +up till twelve o'clock, talking, and laughing, and singing.' 'So +you may still; what hinders you?' said Archer. 'Sing, and +we'll join you, and I should be glad those fellows overhead +heard us singing. Begin, Townsend—</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"> +<p class="noin"> +Come, now, all ye social Powers,<br /> +Spread your influence o'er us— +</p> +</div> + +<p>Or else—</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"> +<p class="noin"> +Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!<br /> +Britons never will be slaves.' +</p> +</div> + +<p>Nothing can be more melancholy than forced merriment. +In vain they roared in chorus. In vain they tried to appear +gay. It would not do. The voices died away, and dropped +off one by one. They had each provided himself with a greatcoat +to sleep upon; but now, in the dark, there was a peevish +scrambling contest for the coats, and half the company, in very +bad humour, stretched themselves upon the benches for the +night.</p> + +<p>There is great pleasure in bearing anything that has the +appearance of hardship, as long as there is any glory to be +acquired by it; but when people feel themselves foiled, there +is no further pleasure in endurance; and if, in their misfortune, +there is any mixture of the ridiculous, the motives for heroism +are immediately destroyed. Dr. Middleton had probably +considered this in the choice he made of his first attack.</p> + +<p>Archer, who had spent the night as a man who had the +cares of government upon his shoulders, rose early in the +morning, whilst everybody else was fast asleep. In the night +he had resolved the affair of the trap-door, and a new danger +had alarmed him. It was possible that the enemy might +descend upon them through the trap-door. The room had +been built high to admit a free circulation of air. It was<span class="pagenum">[328]</span> +twenty feet, so that it was in vain to think of reaching to the +trap-door.</p> + +<p>As soon as the daylight appeared, Archer rose softly, that +he might <i>reconnoitre</i>, and devise some method of guarding +against this new danger. Luckily there were round holes in +the top of the window-shutters, which admitted sufficient light +for him to work by. The remains of the soaked feast, wet +candles, and broken glass spread over the table in the middle +of the room, looked rather dismal this morning.</p> + +<p>'A pretty set of fellows I have to manage!' said Archer, +contemplating the group of sleepers before him. 'It is well +they have somebody to think for them. Now if I wanted—which, +thank goodness, I don't—but if I did want to call a +cabinet council to my assistance, whom could I pitch upon?—not +this stupid snorer, who is dreaming of gipsies, if he is +dreaming of anything,' continued Archer, as he looked into +Fisher's open mouth. 'This next chap is quick enough; but, +then, he is so fond of having everything his own way. And +this curl-pated monkey, who is grinning in his sleep, is all +tongue and no brains. Here are brains, though nobody would +think it, in this lump,' said he, looking at a fat, rolled up, +heavy-breathing sleeper; 'but what signify brains to such a lazy +dog? I might kick him for my football this half-hour before +I should get him awake. This lank-jawed harlequin beside him +is a handy fellow, to be sure; but then, if he has hands, he has +no head—and he'd be afraid of his own shadow too, by this +light, he is such a coward! And Townsend, why he has puns +in plenty; but, when there's any work to be done, he's the +worst fellow to be near one in the world—he can do nothing +but laugh at his own puns. This poor little fellow that we +hunted into the corner has more sense than all of them put +together; but then he is a Greybeard.'</p> + +<p>Thus speculated the chief of a party upon his sleeping +friends. And how did it happen that he should be so ambitious +to please and govern this set, when for each individual of +which it was composed he felt such supreme contempt? He +had formed them into a <i>party</i>, had given them a name, and +he was at their head. If these be not good reasons, none +better can be assigned for Archer's conduct.</p> + +<p>'I wish ye could all sleep on,' said he; 'but I must waken +ye, though you will be only in my way. The sound of my<span class="pagenum">[329]</span> +hammering must waken them; so I may as well do the thing +handsomely, and flatter some of them by pretending to ask +their advice.'</p> + +<p>Accordingly, he pulled two or three to waken them. +'Come, Townsend, waken, my boy! Here's some diversion +for you—up! up!'</p> + +<p>'Diversion!' cried Townsend; 'I'm your man! I'm up—<i>up +to anything</i>.'</p> + +<p>So, under the name of <i>diversion</i>, Archer set Townsend to +work at four o'clock in the morning. They had nails, a few +tools, and several spars, still left from the wreck of the playhouse. +These, by Archer's directions, they sharpened at one +end, and nailed them to the ends of several forms.</p> + +<p>All hands were now called to clear away the supper things, +and to erect these forms perpendicularly under the trap-door; +and with the assistance of a few braces, a <i>chevaux-de-frise</i> was +formed, upon which nobody could venture to descend. At the +farthest end of the room they likewise formed a penthouse of +the tables, under which they proposed to breakfast, secure +from the pelting storm, if it should again assail them through +the trap-door. They crowded under the penthouse as soon as +it was ready, and their admiration of its ingenuity paid the +workmen for the job.</p> + +<p>'Lord! I shall like to see the gardener's phiz through the +trap-door, when he beholds the spikes under him!' cried +Townsend. 'Now for breakfast!' 'Ay, now for breakfast,' +said Archer, looking at his watch; 'past eight o'clock, and my +town boys not come! I don't understand this!'</p> + +<p>Archer had expected a constant supply of provisions from +two boys who lived in the town, who were cousins of his, and +who had promised to come every day, and put food in at a +certain hole in the wall, in which a ventilator usually turned. +This ventilator Archer had taken down, and had contrived it so +that it could be easily removed and replaced at pleasure; but, +upon examination, it was now perceived that the hole had been +newly stopped up by an iron back, which it was impossible to +penetrate or remove.</p> + +<p>'It never came into my head that anybody would ever +have thought of the ventilator but myself!' exclaimed Archer, +in great perplexity. He listened and waited for his cousins; +but no cousins came, and at a late hour the company were<span class="pagenum">[330]</span> +obliged to breakfast upon the scattered fragments of the +last night's feast. That feast had been spread with such +imprudent profusion, that little now remained to satisfy the +hungry guests.</p> + +<p>Archer, who well knew the effect which the apprehension +of a scarcity would have upon his associates, did everything +that could be done by a bold countenance and reiterated +assertions to persuade them that his cousins would certainly +come at last, and that the supplies were only delayed. The +delay, however, was alarming.</p> + +<p>Fisher alone heard the manager's calculations and saw the +public fears unmoved. Secretly rejoicing in his own wisdom, +he walked from window to window, slily listening for the gipsy's +signal. 'There it is!' cried he, with more joy sparkling in his +eyes than had ever enlightened them before. 'Come this way, +Archer; but don't tell anybody. Hark! do ye hear those three +taps at the window? This is the old woman with twelve buns +for me. I'll give you one whole one for yourself, if you will +unbar the window for me.'</p> + +<p>'Unbar the window!' interrupted Archer; 'no, that I +won't, for you or the gipsy either; but I have heard enough to +get your buns without that. But stay; there is something of +more consequence than your twelve buns. I must think for ye +all, I see, regularly.'</p> + +<p>So he summoned a council, and proposed that every one +should subscribe, and trust the subscription to the gipsy, to +purchase a fresh supply of provisions. Archer laid down a +guinea of his own money for his subscription; at which sight +all the company clapped their hands, and his popularity rose to +a high pitch with their renewed hopes of plenty. Now, having +made a list of their wants, they folded the money in the paper, +put it into a bag, which Archer tied to a long string, and, having +broken the pane of glass behind the round hole in the window-shutter, +he let down the bag to the gipsy. She promised to +be punctual, and having filled the bag with Fishers twelve +buns, they were drawn up in triumph, and everybody anticipated +the pleasure with which they should see the same bag drawn +up at dinner-time. The buns were a little squeezed in being +drawn through the hole in the window-shutter, but Archer +immediately sawed out a piece of the shutter, and broke the +corresponding panes in each of the other windows, to prevent<span class="pagenum">[331]</span> +suspicion, and to make it appear that they had all been broken +to admit air.</p> + +<p>What a pity that so much ingenuity should have been +employed to no purpose!</p> + +<p>It may have surprised the intelligent reader that the gipsy +was so punctual to her promise to Fisher, but we must +recollect that her apparent integrity was only cunning; she +was punctual that she might be employed again, that she +might be entrusted with the contribution which, she foresaw, +must be raised amongst the famishing garrison. No sooner +had she received the money than her end was gained.</p> + +<p>Dinner-time came; it struck three, four, five, six. They +listened with hungry ears, but no signal was heard. The +morning had been very long, and Archer had in vain tried to +dissuade them from devouring the remainder of the provisions +before they were sure of a fresh supply. And now those who +had been the most confident were the most impatient of their +disappointment.</p> + +<p>Archer, in the division of the food, had attempted, by the +most scrupulous exactness, to content the public, and he was +both astonished and provoked to perceive that his impartiality +was impeached. So differently do people judge in different +situations! He was the first person to accuse his master of +injustice, and the least capable of bearing such an imputation +upon himself from others. He now experienced some of the +joys of power, and the delight of managing unreasonable +numbers.</p> + +<p>'Have not I done everything I could to please you? Have +not I spent my money to buy you food? Have not I divided +the last morsel with you? I have not tasted one mouthful to-day! +Did not I set to work for you at sunrise? Did not I +lie awake all night for you? Have not I had all the labour +and all the anxiety? Look round and see <i>my</i> contrivances, <i>my</i> +work, <i>my</i> generosity! And, after all, you think me a tyrant, +because I want you to have common sense. Is not this bun +which I hold in my hand my own? Did not I earn it by my +own ingenuity from that selfish dunce (pointing to Fisher), who +could never have gotten one of his twelve buns, if I had not +shown him how? Eleven of them he has eaten since morning +for his own share, without offering any one a morsel; but I +scorn to eat even what is justly my own, when I see so many<span class="pagenum">[332]</span> +hungry creatures longing for it. I was not going to touch this +last morsel myself. I only begged you to keep it till supper-time, +when perhaps you'll want it more, and Townsend, who +can't bear the slightest thing that crosses his own whims, and +who thinks there's nothing in this world to be minded but his +own diversion, calls me a <i>tyrant</i>. You all of you promised to +obey me. The first thing I ask you to do for your own good, +and when, if you had common sense, you must know I can +want nothing but your good, you rebel against me. Traitors! +fools! ungrateful fools!'</p> + +<p>Archer walked up and down, unable to command his +emotion, whilst, for the moment, the discontented multitude +was silenced.</p> + +<p>'Here,' said he, striking his hand upon the little boy's +shoulder, 'here's the only one amongst you who has not uttered +one word of reproach or complaint, and he has had but one bit +of bread—a bit that I gave him myself this day. Here!' said +he, snatching the bun, which nobody had dared to touch, 'take +it—it's mine—I give it to you, though you are a Greybeard; +you deserve it. Eat it, and be an Archer. You shall be my +captain; will you?' said he, lifting him up in his arm above +the rest.</p> + +<p>'I like you now,' said the little boy, courageously; 'but I +love De Grey better; he has always been my friend, and he +advised me never to call myself any of those names, Archer or +Greybeard; so I won't. Though I am shut in here, I have +nothing to do with it. I love Dr. Middleton; he was never +unjust to <i>me</i>, and I daresay that he has very good reasons, as +De Grey said, for forbidding us to go into that house. Besides, +it's his own.'</p> + +<p>Instead of admiring the good sense and steadiness of this +little lad, Archer suffered Townsend to snatch the untasted bun +out of his hands. He flung it at a hole in the window, but it +fell back. The Archers scrambled for it, and Fisher ate it.</p> + +<p>Archer saw this, and was sensible that he had not done handsomely +in suffering it. A few moments ago he had admired +his own generosity, and though he had felt the injustice of +others, he had not accused himself of any. He turned away +from the little boy, and sitting down at one end of the table, +hid his face in his hands. He continued immovable in this +posture for some time.<span class="pagenum">[333]</span></p> + +<p>'Lord!' said Townsend; 'it was an excellent joke!' +'Pooh!' said Fisher; 'what a fool, to think so much about a +bun!' 'Never mind, Mr. Archer, if you are thinking about me,' +said the little boy, trying gently to pull his hands from his face.</p> + +<p>Archer stooped down and lifted him up upon the table, +at which sight the partisans set up a general hiss. 'He has +forsaken us! He deserts his party! He wants to be a +Greybeard! After he has got us all into this scrape, he will +leave us!'</p> + +<p>'I am not going to leave you,' cried Archer. 'No one +shall ever accuse me of deserting my party. I'll stick by the +Archers, right or wrong, I tell you, to the last moment. But +this little fellow—take it as you please, mutiny if you will, and +throw me out of the window. Call me traitor! coward! Greybeard!—this +little fellow is worth you all put together, and I'll +stand by him against any one who dares to lay a finger upon +him; and the next morsel of food that I see shall be his. +Touch him who dares!'</p> + +<p>The commanding air with which Archer spoke and looked, +and the belief that the little boy deserved his protection, +silenced the crowd. But the storm was only hushed.</p> + +<p>No sound of merriment was now to be heard—no battledore +and shuttlecock—no ball, no marbles. Some sat in a corner, +whispering their wishes that Archer would unbar the doors +and give up. Others, stretching their arms, and gaping as +they sauntered up and down the room, wished for air, or food, +or water. Fisher and his nine, who had such firm dependence +upon the gipsy, now gave themselves up to utter despair. It +was eight o'clock, growing darker and darker every minute, +and no candles, no light, could they have. The prospect of +another long dark night made them still more discontented.</p> + +<p>Townsend, at the head of the yawners, and Fisher, at the +head of the hungry malcontents, gathered round Archer and +the few yet unconquered spirits, demanding 'How long he +meant to keep them in this dark dungeon? and whether he +expected that they should starve themselves for his sake?'</p> + +<p>The idea of <i>giving up</i> was more intolerable to Archer than +all the rest. He saw that the majority, his own convincing +argument, was against him. He was therefore obliged to +condescend to the arts of persuasion. He flattered some with +hopes of food from the town boys. Some he reminded of<span class="pagenum">[334]</span> +their promises; others he praised for former prowess; and +others he shamed by the repetition of their high vaunts in the +beginning of the business.</p> + +<p>It was at length resolved that at all events they <i>would hold +out</i>. With this determination they stretched themselves again +to sleep, for the second night, in weak and weary obstinacy.</p> + +<p>Archer slept longer and more soundly than usual the next +morning, and when he awoke, he found his hands tied behind +him! Three or four boys had just got hold of his feet, which +they pressed down, whilst the trembling hands of Fisher were +fastening the cord round them.</p> + +<p>With all the force which rage could inspire, Archer struggled +and roared to '<i>his Archers</i>!'—his friends, his party—for help +against the traitors. But all kept aloof. Townsend, in particular, +stood laughing and looking on. 'I beg your pardon, +Archer, but really you look so droll. All alive and kicking! +Don't be angry. I'm so weak, I cannot help laughing to-day.'</p> + +<p>The packthread cracked. 'His hands are free! He's +loose!' cried the least of the boys, and ran away, whilst +Archer leaped up, and seizing hold of Fisher with a powerful +grasp, sternly demanded 'What he meant by this?'</p> + +<p>'Ask my party,' said Fisher, terrified; 'they set me on; +ask my party.'</p> + +<p>'Your party!' cried Archer, with a look of ineffable contempt; +'you reptile!—<i>your</i> party? Can such a thing as <i>you</i> +have a party?'</p> + +<p>'To be sure!' said Fisher, settling his collar, which Archer +in his surprise had let go; 'to be sure! Why not? Any +man who chooses it may have a party as well as yourself, I +suppose. I have nine Fishermen.'</p> + +<p>At these words, spoken with much sullen importance, +Archer, in spite of his vexation, could not help laughing. +'Fishermen!' cried he, '<i>Fishermen!</i>' 'And why not Fishermen +as well as Archers?' cried they. 'One party is just as +good as another; it is only a question which can get the upper +hand; and we had your hands tied just now.'</p> + +<p>'That's right, Townsend,' said Archer, 'laugh on, my boy! +Friend or foe, it's all the same to you. I know how to value +your friendship now. You are a mighty good fellow when the +sun shines; but let a storm come, and how you slink +away!'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i031f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i031t.jpg" alt="i031"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>Archer leaped-up, and seizing hold of Fisher with a powerful grasp, sternly +demanded 'What he meant by this?'</i></p> +</div> + +<p>At this instant, Archer felt the difference between <i>a good companion</i><span class="pagenum">[336]</span> +and a good friend, a difference which some people +do not discover till late in life.</p> + +<p>'Have I no friend?—no real friend amongst you all? And +could ye stand by and see my hands tied behind me like a +thief's? What signifies such a party—all mute?'</p> + +<p>'We want something to eat,' answered the Fishermen. +'What signifies <i>such</i> a party, indeed? and <i>such</i> a manager, +who can do nothing for one?'</p> + +<p>'And have <i>I</i> done nothing?'</p> + +<p>'Don't let's hear any more prosing,' said Fisher; 'we are +too many for you. I've advised my party, if they've a mind +not to be starved, to give you up for the ringleader, as you +were; and Dr. Middleton will not let us all off, I daresay.' +So, depending upon the sullen silence of the assembly, he +again approached Archer with a cord. A cry of 'No, no, no! +Don't tie him,' was feebly raised.</p> + +<p>Archer stood still, but the moment Fisher touched him, he +knocked him down to the ground, and turning to the rest, +with eyes sparkling with indignation, 'Archers!' cried he. A +voice at this instant was heard at the door. It was De Grey's +voice. 'I have got a large basket of provisions for your +breakfast.' A general shout of joy was sent forth by the +voracious public. 'Breakfast! Provisions! A large basket! +De Grey for ever! Huzza!'</p> + +<p>De Grey promised, upon his honour, that if he would unbar +the door nobody should come in with him, and no advantage +should be taken of them. This promise was enough even for +Archer. 'I will let him in,' said he, 'myself; for I'm sure +he'll never break his word.' He pulled away the bar; the +door opened; and having bargained for the liberty of Melsom, +the little boy who had been shut in by mistake, De Grey +entered with his basket of provisions, when he locked and +barred the door instantly.</p> + +<p>Joy and gratitude sparkled in every face when he unpacked +his basket and spread the table with a plentiful breakfast. A +hundred questions were asked him at once. 'Eat first,' said +he, 'and we will talk afterwards.' This business was quickly +despatched by those who had not tasted food for a long while. +Their curiosity increased as their hunger diminished. 'Who +sent us breakfast? Does Dr. Middleton know?' were questions +reiterated from every mouth.<span class="pagenum">[337]</span></p> + +<p>'He does know,' answered De Grey; 'and the first thing I +have to tell you is, that I am your fellow-prisoner. I am to +stay here till you give up. This was the only condition on +which Dr. Middleton would allow me to bring you food, and +he will allow no more.'</p> + +<p>Every one looked at the empty basket. But Archer, in +whom half-vanquished party spirit revived with the strength +he had got from his breakfast, broke into exclamations in +praise of De Grey's magnanimity, as he now imagined that +De Grey had become one of themselves.</p> + +<p>'And you will join us, will you? That's a noble fellow!' +'No,' answered De Grey, calmly; 'but I hope to persuade, or +rather to convince you, that you ought to join me.' 'You +would have found it no hard task to have persuaded or convinced +us, whichever you pleased,' said Townsend, 'if you had +appealed to Archers fasting; but Archers feasting are quite +other animals. Even Cæsar himself, after breakfast, is quite +another thing!' added he, pointing to Archer. 'You may +speak for yourself, Mr. Townsend,' replied the insulted hero, +'but not for me, or for Archers in general, if you please. We +unbarred the door upon the faith of De Grey's promise—<i>that</i> +was not giving up. And it would have been just as difficult, I +promise you, to persuade or convince me either that I should +give up against my honour before breakfast as after.'</p> + +<p>This spirited speech was applauded by many, who had now +forgotten the feelings of famine. Not so Fisher, whose +memory was upon this occasion very distinct.</p> + +<p>'What nonsense,' and the orator paused for a synonymous +expression, but none was at hand. 'What nonsense and—nonsense +is here! Why, don't you remember that dinner-time, +and supper-time, and breakfast-time will come again? +So what signifies mouthing about persuading and convincing? +We will not go through again what we did yesterday! Honour +me no honour. I don't understand it. I'd rather be flogged +at once, as I have been many's the good time for a less thing. +I say, we'd better all be flogged at once, which must be the +end of it sooner or later, than wait here to be without dinner, +breakfast, and supper, all only because Mr. Archer won't give +up because of his honour and nonsense!'</p> + +<p>Many prudent faces amongst the Fishermen seemed to +deliberate at the close of this oration, in which the arguments<span class="pagenum">[338]</span> +were brought so 'home to each man's business and +bosom.'</p> + +<p>'But,' said De Grey, 'when we yield, I hope it will not be +merely to get our dinner, gentlemen. When we yield, +Archer——' 'Don't address yourself to me,' interrupted Archer, +struggling with his pride; 'you have no further occasion to try +to win me. I have no power, no party, you see! And now I +find that I have no friends, I don't care what becomes of myself. +I suppose I'm to be given up as a ringleader. Here's +this Fisher, and a party of his Fishermen, were going to tie +me hand and foot, if I had not knocked him down, just as you +came to the door, De Grey; and now perhaps you will join +Fisher's party against me.'</p> + +<p>De Grey was going to assure him that he had no intention +of joining any party, when a sudden change appeared on +Archer's countenance. 'Silence!' cried Archer, in an imperious +tone, and there was silence. Some one was heard to +whistle the beginning of a tune, that was perfectly new to +everybody present except to Archer, who immediately whistled +the conclusion. 'There!' cried he, looking at De Grey with +triumph; 'that's a method of holding secret correspondence, +whilst a prisoner, which I learned from "Richard Cœur de Lion." +I know how to make use of everything. Hallo! friend! are +you there at last?' cried he, going to the ventilator. 'Yes, +but we are barred out here.' 'Round to the window then, +and fill our bag. We'll let it down, my lad, in a trice; bar +me out who can!'</p> + +<p>Archer let down the bag with all the expedition of joy, and +it was filled with all the expedition of fear. 'Pull away! make +haste, for Heaven's sake!' said the voice from without; 'the +gardener will come from dinner, else, and we shall be caught. +He mounted guard all yesterday at the ventilator; and though +I watched and watched till it was darker than pitch, I could +not get near you. I don't know what has taken him out of +the way now. Make haste, pull away!' The heavy bag was +soon pulled up. 'Have you any more?' said Archer. 'Yes, +plenty. Let down quick! I've got the tailor's bag full, which +is three times as large as yours, and I've changed clothes with +the tailor's boy; so nobody took notice of me as I came down +the street.'</p> + +<p>'There's my own cousin!' exclaimed Archer, 'there's a<span class="pagenum">[339]</span> +noble fellow! there's my own cousin, I acknowledge. Fill the +bag, then.' Several times the bag descended and ascended; +and at every unlading of the crane, fresh acclamations were +heard. 'I have no more!' at length the boy with the tailor's +bag cried. 'Off with you, then; we've enough, and thank +you.'</p> + +<p>A delightful review was now made of their treasure. Busy +hands arranged and sorted the heterogeneous mass. Archer, +in the height of his glory, looked on, the acknowledged master +of the whole. Townsend, who, in his prosperity as in adversity, +saw and enjoyed the comic foibles of his friends, +pushed De Grey, who was looking on with a more good-natured +and more thoughtful air. 'Friend,' said he, 'you +look like a great philosopher, and Archer a great hero.' 'And +you, Townsend,' said Archer, 'may look like a wit, if you will; +but you will never be a hero.' 'No, no,' replied Townsend; +'wits were never heroes, because they are wits. You are out +of your wits, and therefore may set up for a hero.' 'Laugh, +and welcome. I'm not a tyrant. I don't want to restrain +anybody's wit; but I cannot say I admire puns.' 'Nor I, +either,' said the time-serving Fisher, sidling up to the manager, +and picking the ice off a piece of plum-cake, 'nor I either; I +hate puns. I can never understand Townsend's <i>puns</i>. Besides, +anybody can make puns; and one doesn't want wit, +either, at all times; for instance, when one is going to settle +about dinner, or business of consequence. Bless us all, +Archer!' continued he, with sudden familiarity, '<i>what a sight +of good things are here</i>! I'm sure we are much obliged to +you and your cousin. I never thought he'd have come. Why, +now we can hold out as long as you please. Let us see,' said +he, dividing the provisions upon the table; 'we can hold out +to-day, and all to-morrow, and part of next day, maybe. Why, +now we may defy the doctor and the Greybeards. The doctor +will surely give up to us; for, you see, he knows nothing of +all this, and he'll think we are starving all this while; and he'd +be afraid, you see, to let us starve quite, in reality, for three +whole days, because of what would be said in the town. My +Aunt Barbara, for one, would be <i>at him</i> long before that time +was out; and besides, you know, in that case, he'd be hanged +for murder, which is quite another thing, in law, from a <i>Barring +Out</i>, you know.'<span class="pagenum">[340]</span></p> + +<p>Archer had not given to this harangue all the attention +which it deserved, for his eye was fixed upon De Grey. 'What +is De Grey thinking of?' he asked, impatiently. 'I am +thinking,' said De Grey, 'that Dr. Middleton must believe +that I have betrayed his confidence in me. The gardener +was ordered away from his watch-post for one half-hour when +I was admitted. This half-hour the gardener has made nearly +an hour. I never would have come near you if I had foreseen +all this. Dr. Middleton trusted me, and now he will repent +of his confidence in me.' 'De Grey!' cried Archer, with +energy, 'he shall not repent of his confidence in you—nor +shall you repent of coming amongst us. You shall find that +we have some honour as well as yourself, and I will take care +of your honour as if it were my <i>own</i>!' 'Hey-day!' interrupted +Townsend; 'are heroes allowed to change sides, pray? And +does the chief of the Archers stand talking sentiment to the +chief of the Greybeards? In the middle of his own party +too!' 'Party!' repeated Archer, disdainfully; 'I have done +with parties! I see what parties are made of! I have felt +the want of a friend, and I am determined to make one if I can.' +'That you may do,' said De Grey, stretching out his hand.</p> + +<p>'Unbar the doors! unbar the windows!' exclaimed Archer. +'Away with all these things! I give up for De Grey's sake. +He shall not lose his credit on my account.' 'No,' said De +Grey, 'you shall not give up for my sake.' 'Well, then, I'll +give up to do what is <i>honourable</i>,' said Archer. 'Why not to +do what is <i>reasonable</i>?' said De Grey. '<i>Reasonable!</i> Oh, +the first thing that a man of spirit should think of is, what is +<i>honourable</i>.' 'But how will he find out <i>what is</i> honourable, +unless he can reason?' replied De Grey. 'Oh,' said Archer, +'his own feelings always tell him what is honourable.' 'Have +not <i>your feelings</i>,' asked De Grey, 'changed within these few +hours?' 'Yes, with circumstances,' replied Archer; 'but, right +or wrong, as long as I think it honourable to do so and so, +I'm satisfied.' 'But you cannot think anything honourable, +or the contrary,' observed De Grey, 'without reasoning; and as +to what you call feeling, it's only a quick sort of reasoning.' +'The quicker the better,' said Archer. 'Perhaps not,' said De +Grey. 'We are apt to reason best when we are not in quite +so great a hurry.' 'But,' said Archer, 'we have not always +time enough to reason <i>at first</i>.' 'You must, however, acknowledge,'<span class="pagenum">[341]</span> +replied De Grey, smiling, 'that no man but a fool +thinks it honourable to be in the wrong <i>at last</i>. Is it not, +therefore, best to begin by reasoning to find out the right <i>at +first</i>?' 'To be sure,' said Archer. 'And did you reason +with yourself at first? And did you find out that it was right +to bar Dr. Middleton out of his own schoolroom, because he +desired you not to go into one of his own houses?' 'No,' +replied Archer; 'but I should never have thought of heading +a Barring Out, if he had not shown partiality; and if you had +flown into a passion with me openly at once for pulling down +your scenery, which would have been quite natural, and not +have gone slily and forbid us the house out of revenge, there +would have been none of this work.' 'Why,' said De Grey, +'should you suspect me of such a mean action, when you have +never seen or known me do anything mean, and when in this +instance you have no proofs?' 'Will you give me your word +and honour now, De Grey, before everybody here, that you +did not do what I suspected?' 'I do assure you, upon my +honour, I never, indirectly, spoke to Dr. Middleton about the +playhouse.' 'Then,' said Archer, 'I'm as glad as if I had found +a thousand pounds! Now you are my friend indeed.' 'And +Dr. Middleton—why should you suspect him without reason +any more than me?' 'As to that,' said Archer, 'he is your +friend, and you are right to defend him; and I won't say +another word against him. Will that satisfy you?' 'Not +quite.' 'Not quite! Then, indeed, you are unreasonable!' +'No,' replied De Grey; 'for I don't wish you to yield out of +friendship to me, any more than to honour. If you yield to +reason, you will be governed by reason another time.' 'Well, +but then don't triumph over me, because you have the best +side of the argument.' 'Not I! How can I?' said De Grey; +'for now you are on <i>the best side</i> as well as myself, are not +you? So we may triumph together.'</p> + +<p>'You are a good friend!' said Archer; and with great +eagerness he pulled down the fortifications, whilst every hand +assisted. The room was restored to order in a few minutes—the +shutters were thrown open, the cheerful light let in. The +windows were thrown up, and the first feeling of the fresh air +was delightful. The green playground opened before them, +and the hopes of exercise and liberty brightened the countenances +of these voluntary prisoners.<span class="pagenum">[342]</span></p> + +<p>But, alas! they were not yet at liberty. The idea of Dr. +Middleton, and the dread of his vengeance, smote their hearts. +When the rebels had sent an ambassador with their surrender, +they stood in pale and silent suspense, waiting for their doom.</p> + +<p>'Ah!' said Fisher, looking up at the broken panes in the +windows, 'the doctor will think the most of <i>that</i>—he'll never +forgive us for that.'</p> + +<p>'Hush! here he comes!' His steady step was heard +approaching nearer and nearer. Archer threw open the door, +and Dr. Middleton entered. Fisher instantly fell on his knees. +'It is no delight to me to see people on their knees. Stand +up, Mr. Fisher. I hope you are all conscious that you have +done wrong?' 'Sir,' said Archer, 'they are conscious that +they have done wrong, and so am I. I am the ringleader. +Punish me as you think proper. I submit. Your punishments—your +vengeance ought to fall on me alone!'</p> + +<p>'Sir,' said Dr. Middleton, calmly, 'I perceive that whatever +else you may have learned in the course of your education, +you have not been taught the meaning of the word punishment. +Punishment and vengeance do not with us mean the same +thing. <i>Punishment</i> is pain given, with the reasonable hope of +preventing those on whom it is inflicted from doing, <i>in future</i>, +what will hurt themselves or others. <i>Vengeance</i> never looks +to the <i>future</i>, but is the expression of anger for an injury that +is past. I feel no anger; you have done me no injury.'</p> + +<p>Here many of the little boys looked timidly up to the +windows. 'Yes, I see that you have broken my windows; +that is a small evil.' 'Oh, sir! How good! How merciful!' +exclaimed those who had been most panic-struck. 'He +forgives us!'</p> + +<p>'Stay,' resumed Dr. Middleton; 'I cannot forgive you. I +shall never revenge, but it is my duty to punish. You have +rebelled against the just authority which is necessary to conduct +and govern you whilst you have not sufficient reason to +govern and conduct yourselves. Without obedience to the +laws,' added he, turning to Archer, 'as men, you cannot be +suffered in society. You, sir, think yourself a man, I observe; +and you think it the part of a man not to submit to the will of +another. I have no pleasure in making others, whether men +or children, submit to my <i>will</i>; but my reason and experience +are superior to yours. Your parents at least think so, or they<span class="pagenum">[343]</span> +would not have entrusted me with the care of your education. +As long as they do entrust you to my care, and as long as I +have any hopes of making you wiser and better by punishment, +I shall steadily inflict it, whenever I judge it to be necessary, +and I judge it to be necessary <i>now</i>. This is a long sermon, +Mr. Archer, not preached to show my own eloquence, but to +convince your understanding. Now, as to your punishment!'</p> + +<p>'Name it, sir,' said Archer; 'whatever it is, I will cheerfully +submit to it.' 'Name it yourself,' said Dr. Middleton, +'and show me that you now understand the nature of punishment.'</p> + +<p>Archer, proud to be treated like a reasonable creature, and +sorry that he had behaved like a foolish schoolboy, was silent +for some time, but at length replied, 'That he would rather +not name his own punishment.' He repeated, however, that +he trusted he should bear it well, whatever it might be.</p> + +<p>'I shall then,' said Dr. Middleton, 'deprive you, for two +months, of pocket-money, as you have had too much, and have +made a bad use of it.'</p> + +<p>'Sir,' said Archer, 'I brought five guineas with me to +school. This guinea is all that I have left.'</p> + +<p>Dr. Middleton received the guinea which Archer offered +him with a look of approbation, and told him that it should be +applied to the repairs of the schoolroom. The rest of the boys +waited in silence for the doctor's sentence against them, but +not with those looks of abject fear with which boys usually +expect the sentence of a schoolmaster.</p> + +<p>'You shall return from the playground, all of you,' said Dr. +Middleton, 'one quarter of an hour sooner, for two months to +come, than the rest of your companions. A bell shall ring at +the appointed time. I give you an opportunity of recovering +my confidence by your punctuality.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, sir! we will come the instant, the very instant the +bell rings; you shall have confidence in us,' cried they, +eagerly.</p> + +<p>'I deserve your confidence, I hope,' said Dr. Middleton; +'for it is my first wish to make you all happy. You do not +know the pain that it has cost me to deprive you of food for so +many hours.'</p> + +<p>Here the boys, with one accord, ran to the place where they +had deposited their last supplies. Archer delivered them up<span class="pagenum">[344]</span> +to the doctor, proud to show that they were not reduced to +obedience merely by necessity.</p> + +<p>'The reason,' resumed Dr. Middleton, having now returned +to the usual benignity of his manner—'the reason why I +desired that none of you should go to that building,' pointing +out of the window, 'was this:—I had been informed that a +gang of gipsies had slept there the night before I spoke to you, +one of whom was dangerously ill of a putrid fever. I did not +choose to mention my reason to you or your friends. I have +had the place cleaned, and you may return to it when you +please. The gipsies were yesterday removed from the town.'</p> + +<p>'De Grey, you were in the right,' whispered Archer, 'and +it was I that was <i>unjust</i>.'</p> + +<p>'The old woman,' continued the doctor, 'whom you +employed to buy food has escaped the fever, but she has not +escaped a gaol, whither she was sent yesterday, for having +defrauded you of your money.</p> + +<p>'Mr. Fisher,' said Dr. Middleton, 'as to you, I shall not +punish you: I have no hope of making you either wiser or +better. Do you know this paper?'—the paper appeared to be +a bill for candles and a tinder-box. 'I desired him to buy +those things, sir,' said Archer, colouring. 'And did you desire +him not to pay for them?' 'No,' said Archer, 'he had half-a-crown +on purpose to pay for them.' 'I know he had, but +he chose to apply it to his private use, and gave it to the gipsy +to buy twelve buns for his own eating. To obtain credit for +the tinder-box and candles, he made use of <i>this</i> name,' said he, +turning to the other side of the bill, and pointing to De Grey's +name, which was written at the end of a copy of one of De +Grey's exercises.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i032f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i032t.jpg" alt="i032"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>He sneaked out, whimpering in a doleful voice.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>'I assure you, sir——' cried Archer. 'You need not +assure me, sir,' said Dr. Middleton; 'I cannot suspect a boy +of your temper of having any part in so base an action. When +the people in the shop refused to let Mr. Fisher have the things +without paying for them, he made use of De Grey's name, who +was known there. Suspecting some mischief, however, from +the purchase of the tinder-box, the shopkeeper informed me of +the circumstance. Nothing in this whole business gave me +half so much pain as I felt, for a moment, when I suspected +that De Grey was concerned in it.' A loud cry, in which +Archer's voice was heard most distinctly, declared De Grey's<span class="pagenum">[346]</span> +innocence. Dr. Middleton looked round at their eager, honest +faces with benevolent approbation. 'Archer,' said he, taking +him by the hand, 'I am heartily glad to see that you have got +the better of your party spirit. I wish you may keep such a +friend as you have now beside you; one such friend is worth +two such parties. As for you, Mr. Fisher, depart; you must +never return hither again.' In vain he solicited Archer and +De Grey to intercede for him. Everybody turned away with +contempt; and he sneaked out, whimpering in a doleful voice, +'What shall I say to my Aunt Barbara?'</p> + + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[347]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="THE_BRACELETS" id="THE_BRACELETS"></a>THE BRACELETS</h2> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">In</span> a beautiful and retired part of England lived Mrs. Villars, +a lady whose accurate understanding, benevolent heart, and +steady temper peculiarly fitted her for the most difficult, as well +as most important, of all occupations—the education of youth. +This task she had undertaken; and twenty young persons were +put under her care, with the perfect confidence of their parents. +No young people could be happier; they were good and gay, +emulous, but not envious of each other; for Mrs. Villars was +impartially just; her praise they felt to be the reward of merit, +and her blame they knew to be the necessary consequence of +ill-conduct. To the one, therefore, they patiently submitted, +and in the other consciously rejoiced. They rose with fresh +cheerfulness in the morning, eager to pursue their various +occupations. They returned in the evening with renewed +ardour to their amusements, and retired to rest satisfied with +themselves and pleased with each other.</p> + +<p>Nothing so much contributed to preserve a spirit of +emulation in this little society as a small honorary distinction, +given annually, as a prize of successful application. The +prize this year was peculiarly dear to each individual, as it was +the picture of a friend whom they dearly loved. It was the +picture of Mrs. Villars in a small bracelet. It wanted neither +gold, pearls, nor precious stones to give it value.</p> + +<p>The two foremost candidates for this prize were Cecilia and +Leonora. Cecilia was the most intimate friend of Leonora; +but Leonora was only the favourite companion of Cecilia.</p> + +<p>Cecilia was of an active, ambitious, enterprising disposition, +more eager in the pursuit than happy in the enjoyment of her +wishes. Leonora was of a contented, unaspiring, temperate +character; not easily roused to action, but indefatigable when<span class="pagenum">[348]</span> +once excited. Leonora was proud; Cecilia was vain. Her +vanity made her more dependent upon the approbation of +others, and therefore more anxious to please, than Leonora; +but that very vanity made her, at the same time, more apt to +offend. In short, Leonora was the most anxious to avoid what +was wrong; Cecilia the most ambitious to do what was right. +Few of her companions loved, but many were led by, Cecilia, +for she was often successful. Many loved Leonora, but none +were ever governed by her, for she was too indolent to govern.</p> + +<p>On the first day of May, about six o'clock in the evening, a +great bell rang, to summon this little society into a hall, where +the prize was to be decided. A number of small tables were +placed in a circle in the middle of the hall. Seats for the +young competitors were raised one above another, in a semicircle, +some yards distant from the table, and the judges' chairs, +under canopies of lilacs and laburnums, forming another semicircle, +closed the amphitheatre.</p> + +<p>Every one put their writings, their drawings, their works of +various kinds, upon the tables appropriated for each. How +unsteady were the last steps to these tables! How each little +hand trembled as it laid down its claims! Till this moment +every one thought herself secure of success; and the heart +which exulted with hope now palpitated with fear.</p> + +<p>The works were examined, the preference adjudged, and the +prize was declared to be the happy Cecilia's. Mrs. Villars +came forward, smiling, with the bracelet in her hand. Cecilia +was behind her companions, on the highest row. All the others +gave way, and she was on the floor in an instant. Mrs. +Villars clasped the bracelet on her arm; the clasp was heard +through the whole hall, and a universal smile of congratulation +followed. Mrs. Villars kissed Cecilia's little hand. 'And +now,' said she, 'go and rejoice with your companions; the +remainder of the day is yours.'</p> + +<p>Oh! you whose hearts are elated with success, whose +bosoms beat high with joy in the moment of triumph, command +yourselves. Let that triumph be moderate, that it may be +lasting. Consider, that though you are good, you may be +better; and, though wise, you may be weak.</p> + +<p>As soon as Mrs. Villars had given her the bracelet, all +Cecilia's little companions crowded round her, and they all left +the hall in an instant. She was full of spirits and vanity. She<span class="pagenum">[349]</span> +ran on. Running down the flight of steps which led to the +garden, in her violent haste Cecilia threw down the little +Louisa, who had a china mandarin in her hand, which her +mother had sent her that very morning, and which was all +broken to pieces by her fall.</p> + +<p>'Oh, my mandarin!' cried Louisa, bursting into tears. +The crowd behind Cecilia suddenly stopped. Louisa sat on +the lowest step, fixing her eyes upon the broken pieces. Then, +turning round, she hid her face in her hands upon the step +above her. In turning, Louisa threw down the remains of the +mandarin. The head, which she placed in the socket, fell from +the shoulders, and rolled, bounding along the gravel walk. +Cecilia pointed to the head and to the socket, and burst into +laughter. The crowd behind laughed too.</p> + +<p>At any other time they would have been more inclined to +cry with Louisa; but Cecilia had just been successful, and +sympathy with the victorious often makes us forget justice.</p> + +<p>Leonora, however, preserved her usual consistency. 'Poor +Louisa!' said she, looking first at her, and then reproachfully +at Cecilia. Cecilia turned sharply round, colouring, half with +shame and half with vexation. 'I could not help it, Leonora,' +said she. 'But you could have helped laughing, Cecilia.' 'I +didn't laugh at Louisa; and I surely may laugh, for it does +nobody any harm.' 'I am sure, however,' replied Leonora, 'I +should not have laughed if I had——' 'No, to be sure, you +wouldn't, because Louisa is your favourite. I can buy her +another mandarin when the old peddler comes to the door, if +that's all. I <i>can</i> do no more, <i>can</i> I?' said she, again turning +round to her companions. 'No, to be sure,' said they; 'that's +all fair.'</p> + +<p>Cecilia looked triumphantly at Leonora. Leonora let go +her hand; she ran on, and the crowd followed. When she +got to the end of the garden, she turned round to see if +Leonora had followed her too; but was vexed to see her still +sitting on the steps with Louisa. 'I'm sure I can do no more +than buy her another, <i>can</i> I?' said she, again appealing to her +companions. 'No, to be sure,' said they, eager to begin their +play.</p> + +<p>How many games did these juvenile playmates begin and +leave off, before Cecilia could be satisfied with any! Her +thoughts were discomposed, and her mind was running upon<span class="pagenum">[350]</span> +something else. No wonder, then, that she did not play with +her usual address. She grew still more impatient. She threw +down the ninepins. 'Come, let us play at something else—at +threading the needle,' said she, holding out her hand. +They all yielded to the hand which wore the bracelet. But +Cecilia, dissatisfied with herself, was discontented with everybody +else. Her tone grew more and more peremptory. One was +too rude, another too stiff; one too slow, another too quick; +in short, everything went wrong, and everybody was tired of +her humours.</p> + +<p>The triumph of <i>success</i> is absolute, but short. Cecilia's +companions at length recollected that, though she had +embroidered a tulip and painted a peach better than they, +yet that they could play as well, and keep their tempers +better; for she was discomposed.</p> + +<p>Walking towards the house in a peevish mood, Cecilia met +Leonora, but passed on. 'Cecilia!' cried Leonora. 'Well, +what do you want with me?' 'Are we friends?' 'You know +best,' said Cecilia. 'We are, if you will let me tell Louisa +that you are sorry——' Cecilia, interrupting her, 'Oh, pray +let me hear no more about Louisa!' 'What! not confess +that you were in the wrong? O Cecilia! I had a better +opinion of you.' 'Your opinion is of no consequence to me +now, for you don't love me.' 'No; not when you are unjust, +Cecilia.' 'Unjust! I am not unjust; and if I were, you are not +my governess.' 'No, but am not I your friend?' 'I don't +desire to have such a friend, who would quarrel with me for +happening to throw down little Louisa. How could I tell that +she had a mandarin in her hand? and when it was broken, +could I do more than promise her another; was that unjust?' +'But you know, Cecilia——' 'I <i>know</i>,' ironically. 'I know, +Leonora, that you love Louisa better than you love me; that's +the injustice!' 'If I did,' replied Leonora, gravely, 'it would +be no injustice, if she deserved it better.' 'How can you +compare Louisa to me!' exclaimed Cecilia, indignantly.</p> + +<p>Leonora made no answer; for she was really hurt at her +friend's conduct. She walked on to join the rest of her +companions. They were dancing in a round upon the grass. +Leonora declined dancing; but they prevailed upon her to sing +for them. Her voice was not so sprightly, but it was sweeter +than usual. Who sang so sweetly as Leonora? or who danced<span class="pagenum">[351]</span> +so nimbly as Louisa? Away she was flying, all spirits and +gaiety, when Leonora's eyes, full of tears, caught hers. Louisa +silently let go her companion's hand, and quitting the dance, +ran up to Leonora to inquire what was the matter with her. +'Nothing,' replied she, 'that need interrupt you. Go, my +dear; go and dance again.'</p> + +<p>Louisa immediately ran away to her garden, and pulling off +her little straw hat, she lined it with the freshest strawberry-leaves, +and was upon her knees before the strawberry-bed when +Cecilia came by. Cecilia was not disposed to be pleased with +Louisa at that instant, for two reasons; because she was jealous +of her, and because she had injured her. The injury, however, +Louisa had already forgotten. Perhaps, to tell things just as +they were, she was not quite so much inclined to kiss Cecilia +as she would have been before the fall of her mandarin; but this +was the utmost extent of her malice, if it can be called malice.</p> + +<p>'What are you doing there, little one?' said Cecilia, in a +sharp tone. 'Are you eating your early strawberries here all +alone?' 'No,' said Louisa, mysteriously, 'I am not eating +them.' 'What are you doing with them? can't you answer, +then? I'm not playing with you, child!' 'Oh, as to that, +Cecilia, you know I need not answer you unless I choose it; +not but what I would if you would only ask me civilly, and if +you would not call me <i>child</i>.' 'Why should not I call you +child?' 'Because—because—I don't know; but I wish you +would stand out of my light, Cecilia, for you are trampling upon +all my strawberries.' 'I have not touched one, you covetous +little creature!' 'Indeed—indeed, Cecilia, I am not covetous. +I have not eaten one of them; they are all for your friend +Leonora. See how unjust you are!'</p> + +<p>'Unjust! that's a cant word which you learnt of my +friend Leonora, as you call her; but she is not my friend now.' +'Not your friend now!' exclaimed Louisa; 'then I am sure +you must have done something <i>very</i> naughty.' 'How?' cried +Cecilia, catching hold of her. 'Let me go, let me go!' cried +Louisa, struggling. 'I won't give you one of my strawberries, +for I don't like you at all!' 'You don't, don't you?' cried +Cecilia, provoked, and, catching the hat from Louisa, she flung +the strawberries over the hedge.</p> + +<p>'Will nobody help me?' exclaimed Louisa, snatching her +hat again, and running away with all her force.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i033f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i033t.jpg" alt="i033"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>'How?' cried Cecilia, catching hold of her.</i></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[353]</span>'What have I done?' said Cecilia, recollecting herself; +'Louisa! Louisa!' she called very loud, but Louisa would not +turn back: she was running to her companions, who were +still dancing, hand in hand, upon the grass, whilst Leonora, +sitting in the middle, was singing to them.</p> + +<p>'Stop! stop! and hear me!' cried Louisa, breaking through +them; and, rushing up to Leonora, she threw her hat at her +feet, and panting for breath—'It was full—almost full of my +own strawberries,' said she, 'the first I ever got out of my own +garden. They should all have been for you, Leonora; but +now I have not one left. They are all gone!' said she; and +she hid her face in Leonora's lap.</p> + +<p>'Gone! gone where?' said every one, at once running up to +her. 'Cecilia! Cecilia!' said she, sobbing. 'Cecilia,' repeated +Leonora, 'what of Cecilia?' 'Yes, it was—it was.' 'Come +along with me,' said Leonora, unwilling to have her friend +exposed. 'Come, and I will get you some more strawberries.' +'Oh, I don't mind the strawberries, indeed; but I wanted to +have had the pleasure of giving them to you.'</p> + +<p>Leonora took her up in her arms to carry her away, but it +was too late.</p> + +<p>'What, Cecilia! Cecilia, who won the prize! It could not +surely be Cecilia,' whispered every busy tongue.</p> + +<p>At this instant the bell summoned them in. 'There she is! +There she is!' cried they, pointing to an arbour, where Cecilia +was standing ashamed and alone; and, as they passed her, +some lifted up their hands and eyes with astonishment, others +whispered and huddled mysteriously together, as if to avoid her. +Leonora walked on, her head a little higher than usual. +'Leonora!' said Cecilia, timorously, as she passed. 'Oh, +Cecilia! who would have thought that you had a bad heart?' +Cecilia turned her head aside and burst into tears.</p> + +<p>'Oh no, indeed, she has not a bad heart!' cried Louisa, +running up to her and throwing her arms around her neck. +'She's very sorry; are not you, Cecilia? But don't cry any +more, for I forgive you, with all my heart—and I love you now, +though I said I did not when I was in a passion.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, you sweet-tempered girl! how I love you!' said +Cecilia, kissing her. 'Well, then, if you do, come along with +me, and dry your eyes, for they are so red!' 'Go, my dear, +and I'll come presently.' 'Then I will keep a place for you,<span class="pagenum">[354]</span> +next to me; but you must make haste, or you will have to come +in when we have all sat down to supper, and then you will be +so stared at! So don't stay now.'</p> + +<p>Cecilia followed Louisa with her eyes till she was out of +sight. 'And is Louisa,' said she to herself, 'the only one who +would stop to pity me? Mrs. Villars told me that this day +should be mine. She little thought how it would end!'</p> + +<p>Saying these words, Cecilia threw herself down upon the +ground; her arm leaned upon a heap of turf which she had +raised in the morning, and which, in the pride and gaiety of her +heart, she had called her throne.</p> + +<p>At this instant, Mrs. Villars came out to enjoy the serenity +of the evening, and, passing by the arbour where Cecilia lay, +she started. Cecilia rose hastily.</p> + +<p>'Who is there?' said Mrs. Villars. 'It is I, madam.' +'And who is <i>I</i>?' 'Cecilia.' 'Why, what keeps you here, +my dear? Where are your companions? This is, perhaps, +one of the happiest days of your life.' 'Oh no, madam,' said +Cecilia, hardly able to repress her tears. 'Why, my dear, +what is the matter?' Cecilia hesitated.</p> + +<p>'Speak, my dear. You know that when I ask you to tell me +anything as your friend, I never punish you as your governess; +therefore you need not be afraid to tell me what is the matter.' +'No, madam, I am not afraid, but ashamed. You asked me +why I was not with my companions. Why, madam, because +they have all left me, and——' 'And what, my dear?' 'And +I see that they all dislike me; and yet I don't know why +they should, for I take as much pains to please as any of them. +All my masters seem satisfied with me; and you yourself, +madam, were pleased this very morning to give me this +bracelet; and I am sure you would not have given it to any +one who did not deserve it.'</p> + +<p>'Certainly not,' said Mrs. Villars. 'You well deserve it for +your application—for your successful application. The prize +was for the most assiduous, not for the most amiable.'</p> + +<p>'Then, if it had been for the most amiable, it would not +have been for me?'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Villars, smiling—'Why, what do you think yourself, +Cecilia? You are better able to judge than I am. I can +determine whether or no you apply to what I give you to +learn; whether you attend to what I desire you to do, and +<span class="pagenum">[355]</span> +avoid what I desire you not to do. I know that I like you as +a pupil, but I cannot know that I should like you as a companion, +unless I were your companion. Therefore I must +judge of what I should do, by seeing what others do in the +same circumstances.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, pray don't, madam! for then you would not love me +either. And yet I think you would love me; for I hope that +I am as ready to oblige, and as good-natured as——'</p> + +<p>'Yes, Cecilia, I don't doubt but that you would be very +good-natured to me; but I'm afraid that I should not like you +unless you were good-tempered too.' 'But, madam, by good-natured +I mean good-tempered—it's all the same thing.' 'No, +indeed, I understand by them two very different things. You +are good-natured, Cecilia; for you are desirous to oblige and +serve your companions—to gain them praise, and save them +from blame—to give them pleasure, and relieve them from +pain; but Leonora is good-tempered, for she can bear with +their foibles, and acknowledge her own. Without disputing +about the right, she sometimes yields to those who are in the +wrong. In short, her temper is perfectly good; for it can +bear and forbear.' 'I wish that mine could!' said Cecilia, +sighing. 'It may,' replied Mrs. Villars; 'but it is not wishes +alone which can improve us in anything. Turn the same +exertion and perseverance which have won you the prize to-day +to this object, and you will meet with the same success; +perhaps not on the first, the second, or the third attempt; but +depend upon it that you will at last. Every new effort will +weaken your bad habits and strengthen your good ones. But +you must not expect to succeed all at once. I repeat it to you, +for habit must be counteracted by habit. It would be as +extravagant in us to expect that all our faults could be +destroyed by one punishment, were it ever so severe, as it +was in the Roman emperor we were reading of a few days +ago to wish that all the heads of his enemies were upon one +neck, that he might cut them off at one blow.'</p> + +<p>Here Mrs. Villars took Cecilia by the hand, and they began +to walk home. Such was the nature of Cecilia's mind, that +when any object was forcibly impressed on her imagination, it +caused a temporary suspension of her reasoning faculties. +Hope was too strong a stimulus for her spirits; and when +fear did take possession of her mind, it was attended with<span class="pagenum">[356]</span> +total debility. Her vanity was now as much mortified as in +the morning it had been elated. She walked on with Mrs. +Villars in silence, until they came under the shade of the elm-tree +walk, and there, fixing her eyes upon Mrs. Villars, she +stopped short.</p> + +<p>'Do you think, madam,' said she, with hesitation—'do you +think, madam, that I have a bad heart?' 'A bad heart, my +dear! why, what put that into your head?' 'Leonora said +that I had, madam, and I felt ashamed when she said so.' +'But, my dear, how can Leonora tell whether your heart be +good or bad? However, in the first place, tell me what you +mean by a bad heart.' 'Indeed, I do not know what is meant +by it, madam; but it is something which everybody hates.' +'And why do they hate it?' 'Because they think that it will +hurt them, ma'am, I believe; and that those who have bad +hearts take delight in doing mischief; and that they never do +anybody any good but for their own ends.'</p> + +<p>'Then the best definition,' said Mrs. Villars, 'which you +can give me of a bad heart is, that it is some constant propensity +to hurt others, and to do wrong for the sake of doing +wrong.' 'Yes, madam; but that is not all either. There is +still something else meant; something which I cannot express—which, +indeed, I never distinctly understood; but of which, +therefore, I was the more afraid.'</p> + +<p>'Well, then, to begin with what you do understand, tell me, +Cecilia, do you really think it possible to be wicked merely for +the love of wickedness? No human being becomes wicked +all at once. A man begins by doing wrong because it is, or +because he thinks it, for his interest. If he continue to do +so, he must conquer his sense of shame and lose his love of +virtue. But how can you, Cecilia, who feel such a strong +sense of shame, and such an eager desire to improve, imagine +that you have a bad heart?'</p> + +<p>'Indeed, madam, I never did, until everybody told me so, +and then I began to be frightened about it. This very evening, +madam, when I was in a passion, I threw little Louisa's +strawberries away, which, I am sure, I was very sorry for +afterwards; and Leonora and everybody cried out that I had +a bad heart—but I am sure I was only in a passion.'</p> + +<p>'Very likely. And when you are in a passion, as you call +it, Cecilia, you see that you are tempted to do harm to others.<span class="pagenum">[357]</span> +If they do not feel angry themselves, they do not sympathise +with you. They do not perceive the motive which actuates +you; and then they say that you have a bad heart. I daresay, +however, when your passion is over, and when you recollect +yourself, you are very sorry for what you have done and said; +are not you?' 'Yes, indeed, madam—very sorry.' 'Then +make that sorry of use to you, Cecilia, and fix it steadily in +your thoughts, as you hope to be good and happy, that if you +suffer yourself to yield to your passion upon every trifling +occasion, anger and its consequences will become familiar to +your mind; and, in the same proportion, your sense of shame +will be weakened, till what you began with doing from sudden +impulse you will end with doing from habit and choice; and +then you would, indeed, according to our definition, have a +bad heart.' 'Oh, madam! I hope—I am sure I never shall.' +'No, indeed, Cecilia; I do, indeed, believe that you never will; +on the contrary, I think that you have a very good disposition, +and what is of infinitely more consequence to you, an active +desire of improvement. Show me that you have as much +perseverance as you have candour, and I shall not despair of +your becoming everything that I could wish.'</p> + +<p>Here Cecilia's countenance brightened, and she ran up the +steps in almost as high spirits as she ran down them in the +morning.</p> + +<p>'Good-night to you, Cecilia,' said Mrs. Villars, as she was +crossing the hall. 'Good-night to you, madam,' said Cecilia; +and she ran upstairs to bed. She could not go to sleep; but +she lay awake, reflecting upon the events of the preceding day, +and forming resolutions for the future, at the same time considering +that she had resolved, and resolved without effect, +she wished to give her mind some more powerful motive. +Ambition she knew to be its most powerful incentive. 'Have +I not,' said she to herself, 'already won the prize of application, +and cannot the same application procure me a much higher +prize? Mrs. Villars said that if the prize had been promised +to the most amiable, it would not have been given to me. +Perhaps it would not yesterday, perhaps it might not to-morrow; +but that is no reason that I should despair of ever +deserving it.'</p> + +<p>In consequence of this reasoning, Cecilia formed a design +of proposing to her companions that they should give a prize,<span class="pagenum">[358]</span> +the first of the ensuing month (the 1st of June), to the most +amiable. Mrs. Villars applauded the scheme, and her companions +adopted it with the greatest alacrity.</p> + +<p>'Let the prize,' said they, 'be a bracelet of our own hair'; +and instantly their shining scissors were produced, and each +contributed a lock of her hair. They formed the most +beautiful gradation of colours, from the palest auburn to the +brightest black. Who was to have the honour of plaiting +them? was now the question. Caroline begged that she +might, as she could plait very neatly, she said. Cecilia, +however, was equally sure that she could do it much better; +and a dispute would have inevitably ensued, if Cecilia, recollecting +herself just as her colour rose to scarlet, had not +yielded—yielded, with no very good grace indeed, but as well +as could be expected for the first time. For it is habit which +confers ease; and without ease, even in moral actions, there +can be no grace.</p> + +<p>The bracelet was plaited in the neatest manner by Caroline, +finished round the edge with silver twist, and on it was worked, +in the smallest silver letters, this motto, '<span class="smcap">To the Most +Amiable</span>.' The moment it was completed, everybody begged +to try it on. It fastened with little silver clasps, and as it was +made large enough for the eldest girls, it was too large for the +youngest. Of this they bitterly complained, and unanimously +entreated that it might be cut to fit them.</p> + +<p>'How foolish!' exclaimed Cecilia; 'don't you perceive that +if any of you win it, you have nothing to do but to put the +clasps a little further from the edge, but, if we get it, we can't +make it larger?' 'Very true,' said they; 'but you need not +to have called us foolish, Cecilia.'</p> + +<p>It was by such hasty and unguarded expressions as these +that Cecilia offended. A slight difference in the manner +makes a very material one in the effect. Cecilia lost more +love by general petulance than she could gain by the greatest +particular exertions.</p> + +<p>How far she succeeded in curing herself of this defect—how +far she became deserving of the bracelet, and to whom +the bracelet was given—shall be told in the History of the +First of June.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The First of June was now arrived, and all the young competitors<span class="pagenum">[359]</span> +were in a state of the most anxious suspense. Leonora +and Cecilia continued to be the foremost candidates. Their +quarrel had never been finally adjusted, and their different +pretensions now retarded all thoughts of a reconciliation. +Cecilia, though she was capable of acknowledging any of her +faults in public before all her companions, could not humble +herself in private to Leonora. Leonora was her equal; they +were her inferiors, and submission is much easier to a vain +mind, where it appears to be voluntary, than when it is the +necessary tribute to justice or candour. So strongly did +Cecilia feel this truth, that she even delayed making any apology, +or coming to any explanation with Leonora, until success should +once more give her the palm.</p> + +<p>'If I win the bracelet to-day,' said she to herself, 'I will +solicit the return of Leonora's friendship; it will be more +valuable to me than even the bracelet, and at such a time, and +asked in such a manner, she surely cannot refuse it to me.' +Animated with this hope of a double triumph, Cecilia canvassed +with the most zealous activity. By constant attention and +exertion she had considerably abated the violence of her temper, +and changed the course of her habits. Her powers of pleasing +were now excited, instead of her abilities to excel; and, if her +talents appeared less brilliant, her character was acknowledged +to be more amiable. So great an influence upon our manners +and conduct have the objects of our ambition.</p> + +<p>Cecilia was now, if possible, more than ever desirous of +doing what was right, but she had not yet acquired sufficient +fear of doing wrong. This was the fundamental error of her +mind; it arose in a great measure from her early education. +Her mother died when she was very young; and though her +father had supplied her place in the best and kindest manner, +he had insensibly infused into his daughter's mind a portion of +that enterprising, independent spirit which he justly deemed +essential to the character of her brother. This brother was +some years older than Cecilia, but he had always been the +favourite companion of her youth. What her father's precepts +inculcated, his example enforced; and even Cecilia's virtues +consequently became such as were more estimable in a man +than desirable in a female. All small objects and small errors +she had been taught to disregard as trifles; and her impatient +disposition was perpetually leading her into more material faults;<span class="pagenum">[360]</span> +yet her candour in confessing these, she had been suffered to +believe, was sufficient reparation and atonement.</p> + +<p>Leonora, on the contrary, who had been educated by her +mother in a manner more suited to her sex, had a character +and virtues more peculiar to a female. Her judgment had +been early cultivated, and her good sense employed in the +regulation of her conduct. She had been habituated to that +restraint which, as a woman, she was to expect in life, and +early accustomed to yield. Compliance in her seemed natural +and graceful; yet, notwithstanding the gentleness of her temper, +she was in reality more independent than Cecilia. She had +more reliance upon her own judgment, and more satisfaction +in her own approbation. The uniform kindness of her manner, +the consistency and equality of her character, had fixed the +esteem and passive love of her companions.</p> + +<p>By passive love we mean that species of affection which +makes us unwilling to offend rather than anxious to oblige, +which is more a habit than an emotion of the mind. For +Cecilia her companions felt active love, for she was active in +showing her love to them.</p> + +<p>Active love arises spontaneously in the mind, after feeling +particular instances of kindness, without reflection on the past +conduct or general character. It exceeds the merits of its +object, and is connected with a feeling of generosity, rather +than with a sense of justice.</p> + +<p>Without determining which species of love is the most +flattering to others, we can easily decide which is the most +agreeable feeling to our minds. We give our hearts more +credit for being generous than for being just; and we feel +more self-complacency when we give our love voluntarily, than +when we yield it as a tribute which we cannot withhold. +Though Cecilia's companions might not know all this in +theory, they proved it in practice; for they loved her in +a much higher proportion to her merits than they loved +Leonora.</p> + +<p>Each of the young judges was to signify her choice by +putting a red or a white shell into a vase prepared for the +purpose. Cecilia's colour was red, Leonora's white.</p> + +<p>In the morning nothing was to be seen but these shells; +nothing talked of but the long-expected event of the evening. +Cecilia, following Leonora's example, had made it a point of<span class="pagenum">[361]</span> +honour not to inquire of any individual her vote, previously to +their final determination.</p> + +<p>They were both sitting together in Louisa's room. Louisa +was recovering from the measles. Every one during her illness +had been desirous of attending her; but Leonora and Cecilia +were the only two that were permitted to see her, as they alone +had had the distemper. They were both assiduous in their +care of Louisa, but Leonora's want of exertion to overcome +any disagreeable feelings of sensibility often deprived her of +presence of mind, and prevented her from being so constantly +useful as Cecilia. Cecilia, on the contrary, often made too +much noise and bustle with her officious assistance, and was +too anxious to invent amusements and procure comforts for +Louisa, without perceiving that illness takes away the power of +enjoying them.</p> + +<p>As she was sitting at the window in the morning, exerting +herself to entertain Louisa, she heard the voice of an old peddler +who often used to come to the house. Downstairs, they ran +immediately, to ask Mrs. Villars's permission to bring him into +the hall. Mrs. Villars consented, and away Cecilia ran to +proclaim the news to her companions. Then, first returning +into the hall, she found the peddler just unbuckling his box, +and taking it off his shoulders.</p> + +<p>'What would you be pleased to want, miss?' said the +peddler; 'I've all kinds of tweezer-cases, rings, and lockets of +all sorts,' continued he, opening all the glittering drawers +successively.</p> + +<p>'Oh!' said Cecilia, shutting the drawer of lockets which +tempted her most, 'these are not the things which I want. +Have you any china figures? any mandarins?'</p> + +<p>'Alack-a-day, miss, I had a great stock of that same chinaware; +but now I'm quite out of them kind of things; but I +believe,' said he, rummaging one of the deepest drawers, 'I +believe I have one left, and here it is.' 'Oh, that is the very +thing! what's its price?' 'Only three shillings, ma'am.' +Cecilia paid the money, and was just going to carry off the +mandarin, when the peddler took out of his greatcoat pocket +a neat mahogany case. It was about a foot long, and fastened +at each end by two little clasps. It had, besides, a small lock +in the middle.</p> + +<p>'What is that?' said Cecilia, eagerly. 'It's only a china<span class="pagenum">[362]</span> +figure, miss, which I am going to carry to an elderly lady, who +lives nigh hand, and who is mighty fond of such things.' 'Could +you let me look at it?' 'And welcome, miss,' said he, and +opened the case. 'Oh, goodness! how beautiful!' exclaimed +Cecilia.</p> + +<p>It was a figure of Flora, crowned with roses, and carrying +a basket of flowers in her hand. Cecilia contemplated it with +delight. 'How I should like to give this to Louisa!' said she +to herself; and, at last, breaking silence, 'Did you promise it +to the old lady?' 'Oh no, miss, I didn't promise it—she +never saw it; and if so be that you'd like to take it, I'd make +no more words about it.' 'And how much does it cost?' +'Why, miss, as to that, I'll let you have it for half-a-guinea.'</p> + +<p>Cecilia immediately produced the box in which she kept her +treasure, and, emptying it upon the table, she began to count +the shillings. Alas! there were but six shillings. 'How +provoking!' said she; 'then I can't have it. Where's the +mandarin? Oh, I have it,' said she, taking it up, and looking +at it with the utmost disgust. 'Is this the same that I had +before?' 'Yes, miss, the very same,' replied the peddler, who, +during this time, had been examining the little box out of which +Cecilia had taken her money—it was of silver. 'Why, ma'am,' +said he, 'since you've taken such a fancy to the piece, if +you've a mind to make up the remainder of the money, I will +take this here little box, if you care to part with it.'</p> + +<p>Now this box was a keepsake from Leonora to Cecilia. +'No,' said Cecilia hastily, blushing a little, and stretching out +her hand to receive it.</p> + +<p>'Oh, miss!' said he, returning it carelessly, 'I hope there's +no offence. I meant but to serve you, that's all. Such a rare +piece of china-work has no cause to go a-begging,' added he. +Then, putting the Flora deliberately into the case, and turning +the key with a jerk, he let it drop into his pocket; when, +lifting up his box by the leather straps, he was preparing to +depart.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i034f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i034t.jpg" alt="i034"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption">'<i>Oh, stay one minute!' said Cecilia.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>'Oh, stay one minute!' said Cecilia, in whose mind there +had passed a very warm conflict during the peddler's harangue. +'Louisa would so like this Flora,' said she, arguing with herself. +'Besides, it would be so generous in me to give it to +her instead of that ugly mandarin; that would be doing only +common justice, for I promised it to her, and she expects it.<span class="pagenum">[364]</span> +Though, when I come to look at this mandarin, it is not even +so good as hers was. The gilding is all rubbed off, so that I +absolutely must buy this for her. Oh yes! I will, and she +will be so delighted! and then everybody will say it is the +prettiest thing they ever saw, and the broken mandarin will be +forgotten for ever.'</p> + +<p>Here Cecilia's hand moved, and she was just going to +decide: 'Oh, but stop,' said she to herself, 'consider—Leonora +gave me this box, and it is a keepsake. However, we have +now quarrelled, and I daresay that she would not mind my +parting with it. I'm sure that I should not care if she was to +give away my keepsake, the smelling-bottle, or the ring which +I gave her. Then what does it signify? Besides, is it +not my own? and have I not a right to do what I please +with it?'</p> + +<p>At this moment, so critical for Cecilia, a party of her companions +opened the door. She knew that they came as +purchasers, and she dreaded her Flora's becoming the prize of +some higher bidder. 'Here,' said she, hastily putting the box +into the peddler's hand, without looking at it, 'take it, and give +me the Flora.' Her hand trembled, though she snatched it +impatiently. She ran by, without seeming to mind any of her +companions.</p> + +<p>Let those who are tempted to do wrong by the hopes of future +gratification, or the prospect of certain concealment and +impunity, remember that, unless they are totally depraved, +they bear in their own hearts a monitor, who will prevent their +enjoying what they ill obtained.</p> + +<p>In vain Cecilia ran to the rest of her companions, to display +her present, in hopes that the applause of others would restore +her own self-complacency; in vain she saw the Flora pass in +due pomp from hand to hand, each vying with the other in +extolling the beauty of the gift and the generosity of the giver. +Cecilia was still displeased with herself, with them, and even +with their praise. From Louisa's gratitude, however, she yet +expected much pleasure, and immediately she ran upstairs to +her room.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Leonora had gone into the hall to buy a +bodkin; she had just broken hers. In giving her change, the +peddler took out of his pocket, with some halfpence, the very +box which Cecilia had sold to him. Leonora did not in the<span class="pagenum">[365]</span> +least suspect the truth, for her mind was above suspicion; and +besides, she had the utmost confidence in Cecilia.</p> + +<p>'I should like to have that box,' said she, 'for it is like one +of which I was very fond.'</p> + +<p>The peddler named the price, and Leonora took the box. +She intended to give it to little Louisa. On going to her room +she found her asleep, and she sat softly down by her bedside. +Louisa opened her eyes.</p> + +<p>'I hope I didn't disturb you,' said Leonora. 'Oh no; I +didn't hear you come in; but what have you got there?' 'It +is only a little box; would you like to have it? I bought it +on purpose for you, as I thought perhaps it would please you, +because it's like that which I gave Cecilia.' 'Oh yes! that +out of which she used to give me Barbary drops. I am very +much obliged to you; I always thought <i>that</i> exceedingly pretty, +and this, indeed, is as like it as possible. I can't unscrew it; +will you try?'</p> + +<p>Leonora unscrewed it. 'Goodness!' exclaimed Louisa, +'this must be Cecilia's box. Look, don't you see a great L at +the bottom of it?'</p> + +<p>Leonora's colour changed. 'Yes,' she replied calmly, 'I see +that; but it is no proof that it is Cecilia's. You know that I +bought this box just now of the peddler.' 'That may be,' said +Louisa; 'but I remember scratching that L with my own +needle, and Cecilia scolded me for it, too. Do go and ask her +if she has lost her box—do,' repeated Louisa, pulling her by +the ruffle, as she did not seem to listen.</p> + +<p>Leonora, indeed, did not hear, for she was lost in thought. +She was comparing circumstances which had before escaped +her attention. She recollected that Cecilia had passed her as +she came into the hall, without seeming to see her, but had +blushed as she passed. She remembered that the peddler appeared +unwilling to part with the box, and was going to put it +again in his pocket with the halfpence. 'And why should he +keep it in his pocket, and not show it with his other things?' Combining +all these circumstances, Leonora had no longer any doubt +of the truth, for though she had an honourable confidence in her +friends, she had too much penetration to be implicitly credulous.</p> + +<p>'Louisa,' she began, but at this instant she heard a step, +which, by its quickness, she knew to be Cecilia's, coming along +the passage.<span class="pagenum">[366]</span></p> + +<p>'If you love me, Louisa,' said Leonora, 'say nothing about +the box.' 'Nay, but why not? I daresay she had lost it.' +'No, my dear, I'm afraid she has not.' Louisa looked surprised. +'But I have reasons for desiring you not to say anything +about it.' 'Well, then, I won't, indeed.'</p> + +<p>Cecilia opened the door, came forward smiling, as if secure +of a good reception, and taking the Flora out of the case, she +placed it on the mantelpiece, opposite to Louisa's bed.</p> + +<p>'Dear, how beautiful!' cried Louisa, starting up. 'Yes,' +said Cecilia, 'and guess who it's for.' 'For me, perhaps!' +said the ingenuous Louisa. 'Yes, take it, and keep it for my +sake. You know that I broke your mandarin.' 'Oh, but this +is a great deal prettier and larger than that.' 'Yes, I know it +is; and I meant that it should be so. I should only have done +what I was bound to do if I had only given you a mandarin.'</p> + +<p>'Well,' replied Louisa, 'and that would have been enough, +surely; but what a beautiful crown of roses! and then that +basket of flowers! they almost look as if I could smell them. +Dear Cecilia, I'm very much obliged to you; but I won't take +it by way of payment for the mandarin you broke; for I'm sure +you could not help that, and, besides, I should have broken it +myself by this time. You shall give it to me entirely; and, as +your keepsake, I'll keep it as long as I live.'</p> + +<p>Louisa stopped short and coloured; the word keepsake recalled +the box to her mind, and all the train of ideas which the +Flora had banished. 'But,' said she, looking up wistfully in +Cecilia's face, and holding the Flora doubtfully, 'did you——'</p> + +<p>Leonora, who was just quitting the room, turned her head +back, and gave Louisa a look, which silenced her.</p> + +<p>Cecilia was so infatuated with her vanity, that she neither +perceived Leonora's sign nor Louisa's confusion, but continued +showing off her present, by placing it in various situations, till +at length she put it into the case, and laying it down with an +affected carelessness upon the bed, 'I must go now, Louisa. +Good-bye,' said she, running up and kissing her; 'but I'll +come again presently'; then, clapping the door after her, she +went. But as soon as the fermentation of her spirits subsided, +the sense of shame, which had been scarcely felt when mixed +with so many other sensations, rose uppermost in her mind. +'What!' said she to herself, 'is it possible that I have sold +what I promised to keep for ever? and what Leonora gave me?<span class="pagenum">[367]</span> +and I have concealed it too, and have been making a parade of +my generosity. Oh! what would Leonora, what would Louisa—what +would everybody think of me if the truth were +known?'</p> + +<p>Humiliated and grieved by these reflections, Cecilia began to +search in her own mind for some consoling idea. She began to +compare her conduct with that of others of her own age; and +at length, fixing her comparison upon her brother George, as the +companion of whom, from her infancy, she had been habitually +the most emulous, she recollected that an almost similar circumstance +had once happened to him, and that he had not only +escaped disgrace, but had acquired glory, by an intrepid confession +of his fault. Her father's word to her brother, on the +occasion, she also perfectly recollected.</p> + +<p>'Come to me, George,' he said, holding out his hand, 'you +are a generous, brave boy: they who dare to confess their faults +will make great and good men.'</p> + +<p>These were his words; but Cecilia, in repeating them to herself, +forgot to lay that emphasis on the word <i>men</i> which would +have placed it in contradistinction to the word women. She +willingly believed that the observation extended equally to both +sexes, and flattered herself that she should exceed her brother +in merit if she owned a fault which she thought that it would +be so much more difficult to confess. 'Yes, but,' said she, +stopping herself, 'how can I confess it? This very evening, in +a few hours, the prize will be decided. Leonora or I shall win +it. I have now as good a chance as Leonora, perhaps a better; +and must I give up all my hopes—all that I have been labouring +for this month past? Oh, I never can! If it were but to-morrow, +or yesterday, or any day but this, I would not hesitate; +but now I am almost certain of the prize, and if I win it—well, +why then I will—I think I will tell all—yes I will; I am +determined,' said Cecilia.</p> + +<p>Here a bell summoned them to dinner. Leonora sat +opposite to her, and she was not a little surprised to see Cecilia +look so gay and unconstrained. 'Surely,' said she to herself, +'if Cecilia had done that which I suspect, she would not, she +could not, look as she does.' But Leonora little knew the +cause of her gaiety. Cecilia was never in higher spirits, or +better pleased with herself, than when she had resolved upon +a sacrifice or a confession.<span class="pagenum">[368]</span></p> + +<p>'Must not this evening be given to the most amiable? +Whose, then, will it be?' All eyes glanced first at Cecilia, +and then at Leonora. Cecilia smiled; Leonora blushed. 'I +see that it is not yet decided,' said Mrs. Villars; and immediately +they ran upstairs, amidst confused whisperings.</p> + +<p>Cecilia's voice could be distinguished far above the rest. +'How can she be so happy!' said Leonora to herself. 'O +Cecilia, there was a time when you could not have neglected +me so! when we were always together the best of friends and +companions; our wishes, tastes, and pleasures the same! +Surely she did once love me,' said Leonora; 'but now she is +quite changed. She has even sold my keepsake; and she +would rather win a bracelet of hair from girls whom she did +not always think so much superior to Leonora than have my +esteem, my confidence, and my friendship for her whole life—yes, +for her whole life, for I am sure she will be an amiable +woman. Oh that this bracelet had never been thought of, or +that I were certain of her winning it; for I am sure that I do +not wish to win it from her. I would rather—a thousand +times rather—that we were as we used to be than have all the +glory in the world. And how pleasing Cecilia can be when +she wishes to please!—how candid she is!—how much she can +improve herself! Let me be just, though she has offended +me; she is wonderfully improved within this last month. For +one fault, and <i>that</i> against myself, shall I forget all her merits?'</p> + +<p>As Leonora said these last words, she could but just hear +the voices of her companions. They had left her alone in the +gallery. She knocked softly at Louisa's door. 'Come in,' +said Louisa; 'I'm not asleep. Oh,' said she, starting up with +the Flora in her hand, the instant that the door was opened, +'I'm so glad you are come, Leonora, for I did so long to hear +what you all were making such a noise about. Have you +forgot that the bracelet——' 'Oh yes! is this the evening?' +inquired Leonora. 'Well, here's my white shell for you,' said +Louisa. 'I've kept it in my pocket this fortnight; and though +Cecilia did give me this Flora, I still love you a great deal +better.' 'I thank you, Louisa,' said Leonora, gratefully. 'I +will take your shell, and I shall value it as long as I live; but +here is a red one, and if you wish to show me that you love +me, you will give this to Cecilia. I know that she is particularly +anxious for your preference, and I am sure that she deserves<span class="pagenum">[369]</span> +it.' 'Yes, if I could I would choose both of you,' said Louisa, +'but you know I can only choose which I like the best.' 'If +you mean, my dear Louisa,' said Leonora, 'that you like me +the best, I am very much obliged to you, for, indeed, I wish +you to love me; but it is enough for me to know it in private. +I should not feel the least more pleasure at hearing it in +public, or in having it made known to all my companions, +especially at a time when it would give poor Cecilia a great +deal of pain.' 'But why should it give her pain?' asked +Louisa; 'I don't like her for being jealous of you.' 'Nay, +Louisa, surely you don't think Cecilia jealous? She only tries +to excel, and to please; she is more anxious to succeed than I +am, it is true, because she has a great deal more activity, and +perhaps more ambition. And it would really mortify her to +lose this prize—you know that she proposed it herself. It has +been her object for this month past, and I am sure she has +taken great pains to obtain it.' 'But, dear Leonora, why +should you lose it?' 'Indeed, my dear, it would be no loss +to me; and, if it were, I would willingly suffer it for Cecilia; +for, though we seem not to be such good friends as we used to +be, I love her very much, and she will love me again—I'm +sure she will; when she no longer fears me as a rival, she will +again love me as a friend.'</p> + +<p>Here Leonora heard a number of her companions running +along the gallery. They all knocked hastily at the door, +calling 'Leonora! Leonora! will you never come? Cecilia +has been with us this half-hour.' Leonora smiled. 'Well, +Louisa,' said she, smiling, 'will you promise me?' 'Oh, I +am sure, by the way they speak to you, that they won't give +you the prize!' said the little Louisa, and the tears started into +her eyes. 'They love me, though, for all that,' said Leonora; +'and as for the prize, you know whom I wish to have it.'</p> + +<p>'Leonora! Leonora!' called her impatient companions; +'don't you hear us? What are you about?' 'Oh, she never +will take any trouble about anything,' said one of the party; +'let's go away.' 'Oh, go, go! make haste!' cried Louisa; +'don't stay; they are so angry.' 'Remember, then, that you +have promised me,' said Leonora, and she left the room.</p> + +<p>During all this time, Cecilia had been in the garden with +her companions. The ambition which she had felt to win the +first prize—the prize of superior talents and superior application—was<span class="pagenum">[370]</span> +not to be compared to the absolute anxiety which she +now expressed to win this simple testimony of the love and +approbation of her equals and rivals.</p> + +<p>To employ her exuberant activity, Cecilia had been dragging +branches of lilacs and laburnums, roses and sweet brier, to +ornament the bower in which her fate was to be decided. It +was excessively hot, but her mind was engaged, and she was +indefatigable. She stood still at last to admire her works. +Her companions all joined in loud applause. They were not +a little prejudiced in her favour by the great eagerness which +she expressed to win their prize, and by the great importance +which she seemed to affix to the preference of each individual. +At last, 'Where is Leonora?' cried one of them; and immediately, +as we have seen, they ran to call her.</p> + +<p>Cecilia was left alone. Overcome with heat and too violent +exertion, she had hardly strength to support herself; each +moment appeared to her intolerably long. She was in a state +of the utmost suspense, and all her courage failed her. Even +hope forsook her; and hope is a cordial which leaves the +mind depressed and enfeebled.</p> + +<p>'The time is now come,' said Cecilia; 'in a few moments +all will be decided. In a few moments—goodness! How +much do I hazard? If I should not win the prize, how shall I +confess what I have done? How shall I beg Leonora to +forgive me? I, who hoped to restore my friendship to her as +an honour! They are gone to seek for her. The moment +she appears I shall be forgotten. What—what shall I do?' +said Cecilia, covering her face with her hands.</p> + +<p>Such was Cecilia's situation when Leonora, accompanied by +her companions, opened the hall door. They most of them +ran forwards to Cecilia. As Leonora came into the bower, she +held out her hand to Cecilia. 'We are not rivals, but friends, +I hope,' said she. Cecilia clasped her hand; but she was in +too great agitation to speak.</p> + +<p>The table was now set in the arbour—the vase was now +placed in the middle. 'Well,' said Cecilia, eagerly, 'who +begins?' Caroline, one of her friends, came forward first, +and then all the others successively. Cecilia's emotion was +hardly conceivable. 'Now they are all in! Count them, +Caroline!'</p> + +<p>'One, two, three, four; the numbers are both equal.' +<span class="pagenum">[371]</span> +There was a dead silence. 'No, they are not,' exclaimed +Cecilia, pressing forward, and putting a shell into a vase. 'I +have not given mine, and I give it to Leonora.' Then, snatching +the bracelet, 'It is yours, Leonora,' said she; 'take it, and +give me back your friendship.' The whole assembly gave one +universal clap and a general shout of applause.</p> + +<p>'I cannot be surprised at this from you, Cecilia,' said +Leonora; 'and do you then still love me as you used to do?'</p> + +<p>'O Leonora, stop! don't praise me; I don't deserve this,' +said she, turning to her loudly-applauding companions. 'You +will soon despise me. O Leonora, you will never forgive me! +I have deceived you; I have sold——'</p> + +<p>At this instant Mrs. Villars appeared. The crowd divided. +She had heard all that passed, from her window. 'I applaud +your generosity, Cecilia,' said she, 'but I am to tell you that +in this instance it is unsuccessful. You have it not in your +power to give the prize to Leonora. It is yours. I have +another vote to give to you. You have forgotten Louisa.'</p> + +<p>'Louisa!' exclaimed Cecilia; 'but surely, ma'am, Louisa +loves Leonora better than she does me.' 'She commissioned +me, however,' said Mrs. Villars, 'to give you a red shell; and +you will find it in this box.'</p> + +<p>Cecilia started, and turned as pale as death; it was the +fatal box!</p> + +<p>Mrs. Villars produced another box. She opened it; it +contained the Flora. 'And Louisa also desired me,' said she, +'to return you this Flora.' She put it into Cecilia's hand. +Cecilia trembled so that she could not hold it. Leonora +caught it.</p> + +<p>'Oh, madam! Oh, Leonora!' exclaimed Cecilia; 'now I +have no hope left. I intended—I was just going to tell——' +'Dear Cecilia,' said Leonora, 'you need not tell it me; I +know it already; and I forgive you with all my heart.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I can prove to you,' said Mrs. Villars, 'that Leonora +has forgiven you. It is she who has given you the prize; it +was she who persuaded Louisa to give you her vote. I went +to see her a little while ago; and perceiving, by her countenance, +that something was the matter, I pressed her to tell me +what it was.</p> + +<p>'"Why, madam," said she, "Leonora has made me promise +to give my shell to Cecilia. Now I don't love Cecilia half so<span class="pagenum">[372]</span> +well as I do Leonora. Besides, I would not have Cecilia +think I vote for her because she gave me a Flora." Whilst +Louisa was speaking,' continued Mrs. Villars, 'I saw this silver +box lying on the bed. I took it up, and asked if it was not +yours, and how she came by it. "Indeed, madam," said +Louisa, "I could have been almost certain that it was Cecilia's; +but Leonora gave it me, and she said that she bought it of the +peddler this morning. If anybody else had told me so, I +could not have believed them, because I remember the box so +well; but I can't help believing Leonora." "But did not you +ask Cecilia about it?" said I. "No, madam," replied Louisa; +"for Leonora forbade me." I guessed her reason. "Well," +said I, "give me the box, and I will carry your shell in it to +Cecilia." "Then, madam," said she, "if I must give it her, +pray do take the Flora, and return it to her first, that she may +not think it is for that I do it."'</p> + +<p>'Oh, generous Leonora!' exclaimed Cecilia; 'but, indeed, +Louisa, I cannot take your shell.'</p> + +<p>'Then, dear Cecilia, accept of mine instead of it! you +cannot refuse it; I only follow your example. As for the +bracelet,' added Leonora, taking Cecilia's hand, 'I assure you +I don't wish for it, and you do, and you deserve it.' 'No,' +said Cecilia, 'indeed I do not deserve it. Next to you, surely +Louisa deserves it best.'</p> + +<p>'Louisa! oh yes, Louisa,' exclaimed everybody with one +voice.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Mrs. Villars, 'and let Cecilia carry the bracelet +to her; she deserves that reward. For one fault I cannot +forget all your merits, Cecilia, nor, I am sure, will your companions.' +'Then, surely, not your best friend,' said Leonora, +kissing her.</p> + +<p>Everybody present was moved. They looked up to Leonora +with respectful and affectionate admiration.</p> + +<p>'Oh, Leonora, how I love you! and how I wish to be like +you!' exclaimed Cecilia—'to be as good, as generous!'</p> + +<p>'Rather wish, Cecilia,' interrupted Mrs. Villars, 'to be as +just; to be as strictly honourable, and as invariably consistent. +Remember, that many of our sex are capable of great efforts—of +making what they call great sacrifices to virtue or to +friendship; but few treat their friends with habitual gentleness, +or uniformly conduct themselves with prudence and good sense.'</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[373]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="THE_LITTLE_MERCHANTS" id="THE_LITTLE_MERCHANTS"></a>THE LITTLE MERCHANTS</h2> + + +<h3>CHAPTER I</h3> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"> +<p class="noin"><i> +Chi di gallina nasce, convien che rozole.</i><br /> +As the old cock crows, so crows the young. +</p> +</div> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">Those</span> who have visited Italy give us an agreeable picture of +the cheerful industry of the children of all ages in the celebrated +city of Naples. Their manner of living and their numerous +employments are exactly described in the following 'Extract +from a Traveller's Journal.'<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">18</a></p> + +<p>'The children are busied in various ways. A great +number of them bring fish for sale to town from Santa Lucia; +others are very often seen about the arsenals, or wherever +carpenters are at work, employed in gathering up the chips +and pieces of wood; or by the seaside, picking up sticks, and +whatever else has drifted ashore, which, when their basket is +full, they carry away.</p> + +<p>'Children of two or three years old, who can scarcely +crawl along upon the ground, in company with boys of five or +six, are employed in this petty trade. Hence they proceed +with their baskets into the heart of the city, where in several +places they form a sort of little market, sitting round with +their stock of wood before them. Labourers, and the lower +order of citizens, buy it of them to burn in the tripods for +warming themselves, or to use in their scanty kitchens.</p> + +<p>'Other children carry about for sale the water of the +sulphurous wells, which, particularly in the spring season, is +drunk in great abundance. Others again endeavour to turn a +few pence by buying a small matter of fruit, of pressed honey, +<span class="pagenum">[374]</span>cakes, and comfits, and then, like little peddlers, offer and sell +them to other children, always for no more profit than that +they may have their share of them free of expense.</p> + +<p>'It is really curious to see how an urchin, whose whole +stock and property consist in a board and a knife, will carry +about a water-melon, or a half-roasted gourd, collect a troup +of children round him, set down his board, and proceed to +divide the fruit into small pieces among them.</p> + +<p>'The buyers keep a sharp look-out to see that they have +enough for their little piece of copper; and the Lilliputian +tradesmen act with no less caution as the exigencies of the +case may require, to prevent his being cheated out of a morsel.'</p> + +<p>The advantages of truth and honesty, and the value of a +character for integrity, are very early felt amongst these little +merchants in their daily intercourse with each other. The +fair dealer is always sooner or later seen to prosper. The +most cunning cheat is at last detected and disgraced.</p> + +<p>Numerous instances of the truth of this common observation +were remarked by many Neapolitan children, especially by +those who were acquainted with the characters and history of +Piedro and Francisco, two boys originally equal in birth, +fortune, and capacity, but different in their education, and +consequently in their habits and conduct. Francisco was the +son of an honest gardener, who, from the time he could speak, +taught him to love to speak the truth, showed him that liars +are never believed—that cheats and thieves cannot be trusted, +and that the shortest way to obtain a good character is to +deserve it.</p> + +<p>Youth and white paper, as the proverb says, take all +impressions. The boy profited much by his father's precepts, +and more by his example; he always heard his father speak +the truth, and saw that he dealt fairly with everybody. In all +his childish traffic, Francisco, imitating his parents, was +scrupulously honest, and therefore all his companions trusted +him—'As honest as Francisco,' became a sort of proverb +amongst them.</p> + +<p>'As honest as Francisco,' repeated Piedro's father, when he +one day heard this saying. 'Let them say so; I say, "As +sharp as Piedro"; and let us see which will go through the +world best.' With the idea of making his son <i>sharp</i> he +made him cunning. He taught him, that to make a <i>good bargain</i><span class="pagenum">[375]</span> +was to deceive as to the value and price of whatever +he wanted to dispose of; to get as much money as possible +from customers by taking advantage of their ignorance or of +their confidence. He often repeated his favourite proverb—'The +buyer has need of a hundred eyes; the seller has need +but of one.'<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> And he took frequent opportunities of explaining +the meaning of this maxim to his son. He was a fisherman; +and as his gains depended more upon fortune than upon +prudence, he trusted habitually to his good luck. After being +idle for a whole day, he would cast his line or his nets, and if +he was lucky enough to catch a fine fish, he would go and +show it in triumph to his neighbour the gardener.</p> + +<p>'You are obliged to work all day long for your daily bread,' +he would say. 'Look here; I work but five minutes, and I +have not only daily bread, but daily fish.'</p> + +<p>Upon these occasions, our fisherman always forgot, or +neglected to count, the hours and days which were wasted in +waiting for a fair wind to put to sea, or angling in vain on the +shore.</p> + +<p>Little Piedro, who used to bask in the sun upon the sea-shore +beside his father, and to lounge or sleep away his time +in a fishing-boat, acquired habits of idleness, which seemed to +his father of little consequence whilst he was <i>but a child</i>.</p> + +<p>'What will you do with Piedro as he grows up, neighbour?' +said the gardener. 'He is smart and quick enough, but he is +always in mischief. Scarcely a day has passed for this fortnight +but I have caught him amongst my grapes. I track his +footsteps all over my vineyard.' '<i>He is but a child</i> yet, and +knows no better,' replied the fisherman. 'But if you don't +teach him better now he is a child, how will he know when he +is a man?' said the gardener. 'A mighty noise about a bunch +of grapes, truly!' cried the fisherman; 'a few grapes more +or less in your vineyard, what does it signify?' 'I speak for +your son's sake, and not for the sake of my grapes,' said the +gardener; 'and I tell you again, the boy will not do well in +the world, neighbour, if you don't look after him in time.' +'He'll do well enough in the world, you will find,' answered +the fisherman, carelessly. 'Whenever he casts my nets, they +never come up empty. "It is better to be lucky than wise."'<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">20</a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[376]</span>This was a proverb which Piedro had frequently heard +from his father, and to which he most willingly trusted, +because it gave him less trouble to fancy himself fortunate +than to make himself wise.</p> + +<p>'Come here, child,' said his father to him, when he returned +home after the preceding conversation with the gardener; +'how old are you, my boy?—twelve years old, is not it?' +'As old as Francisco, and older by six months,' said Piedro. +'And smarter and more knowing by six years,' said his father. +'Here, take these fish to Naples, and let us see how you'll sell +them for me. Venture a small fish, as the proverb says, to +catch a great one.<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">21</a> I was too late with them at the market +yesterday, but nobody will know but what they are just fresh +out of the water, unless you go and tell them.'</p> + +<p>'Not I; trust me for that; I'm not such a fool,' replied +Piedro, laughing; 'I leave that to Francisco. Do you know, +I saw him the other day miss selling a melon for his father by +turning the bruised side to the customer, who was just laying +down the money for it, and who was a raw servant-boy, +moreover—one who would never have guessed there were +two sides to a melon, if he had not, as you say, father, been +told of it?'</p> + +<p>'Off with you to market. You are a droll chap,' said his +father, 'and will sell my fish cleverly, I'll be bound. As to +the rest, let every man take care of his own grapes. You +understand me, Piedro?'</p> + +<p>'Perfectly,' said the boy, who perceived that his father was +indifferent as to his honesty, provided he sold fish at the +highest price possible. He proceeded to the market, and he +offered his fish with assiduity to every person whom he thought +likely to buy it, especially to those upon whom he thought he +could impose. He positively asserted to all who looked at his +fish that they were just fresh out of the water. Good judges +of men and fish knew that he said what was false, and passed +him by with neglect; but it was at last what he called <i>good +luck</i> to meet with the very same young raw servant-boy who +would have bought the bruised melon from Francisco. He +made up to him directly, crying, 'Fish! Fine fresh fish! fresh +fish!'</p> + +<p>'Was it caught to-day?' said the boy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i035f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i035t.jpg" alt="i035"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>'I saw him the other day miss selling a melon for his father by turning the +bruised side to the customer.'</i></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[378]</span>'Yes, this morning; not an hour ago,' said Piedro, with +the greatest effrontery.</p> + +<p>The servant-boy was imposed upon; and being a foreigner, +speaking the Italian language but imperfectly, and not being +expert at reckoning the Italian money, he was no match for +the cunning Piedro, who cheated him not only as to the +freshness but as to the price of the commodity. Piedro +received nearly half as much again for his fish as he ought to +have done.</p> + +<p>On his road homewards from Naples to the little village of +Resina, where his father lived, he overtook Francisco, who +was leading his father's ass. The ass was laden with large +panniers, which were filled with the stalks and leaves of +cauliflowers, cabbages, broccoli, lettuces, etc.—all the refuse of +the Neapolitan kitchens, which are usually collected by the +gardeners' boys, and carried to the gardens round Naples, to +be mixed with other manure.</p> + +<p>'Well-filled panniers, truly,' said Piedro, as he overtook +Francisco and the ass. The panniers were indeed not only +filled to the top, but piled up with much skill and care, so that +the load met over the animal's back.</p> + +<p>'It is not a very heavy load for the ass, though it looks so +large,' said Francisco. 'The poor fellow, however, shall have +a little of this water,' added he, leading the ass to a pool by +the roadside.</p> + +<p>'I was not thinking of the ass, boy; I was not thinking of +any ass, but of you, when I said, "Well-filled panniers, truly!" +This is your morning's work, I presume, and you'll make +another journey to Naples to-day, on the same errand, I +warrant, before your father thinks you have done enough?'</p> + +<p>'Not before <i>my father</i> thinks I have done enough, but +before I think so myself,' replied Francisco.</p> + +<p>'I do enough to satisfy myself and my father too,' said +Piedro, 'without slaving myself after your fashion. Look here,' +producing the money he had received for the fish; 'all this +was had for asking. It is no bad thing, you'll allow, to know +how to ask for money properly.'</p> + +<p>'I should be ashamed to beg, or borrow either,' said Francisco.</p> + +<p>'Neither did I get what you see by begging, or borrowing +either,' said Piedro, 'but by using my wits; not as you did<span class="pagenum">[379]</span> +yesterday, when, like a novice, you showed the bruised side of +your melon, and so spoiled your market by your wisdom.'</p> + +<p>'Wisdom I think it still,' said Francisco.</p> + +<p>'And your father?' asked Piedro.</p> + +<p>'And my father,' said Francisco.</p> + +<p>'Mine is of a different way of thinking,' said Piedro. 'He +always tells me that the buyer has need of a hundred eyes, +and if one can blind the whole hundred, so much the better. +You must know, I got off the fish to-day that my father could +not sell yesterday in the market—got it off for fresh just out +of the river—got twice as much as the market price for it; +and from whom, think you? Why, from the very booby that +would have bought the bruised melon for a sound one if you +would have let him. You'll allow I'm no fool, Francisco, and +that I'm in a fair way to grow rich, if I go on as I have +begun.'</p> + +<p>'Stay,' said Francisco; 'you forgot that the booby you +took in to-day will not be so easily taken in to-morrow. He +will buy no more fish from you, because he will be afraid of +your cheating him; but he will be ready enough to buy fruit +from me, because he will know I shall not cheat him—so +you'll have lost a customer, and I gained one.'</p> + +<p>'With all my heart,' said Piedro. 'One customer does not +make a market; if he buys no more from me, what care I? +there are people enough to buy fish in Naples.'</p> + +<p>'And do you mean to serve them all in the same manner?' +asked Francisco.</p> + +<p>'If they will be only so good as to give me leave,' said +Piedro, laughing, and repeating his father's proverb, '"Venture +a small fish to catch a large one."'<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">22</a> He had learned to think +that to cheat in making bargains was witty and clever.</p> + +<p>'And you have never considered, then,' said Francisco, +'that all these people will, one after another, find you out in +time?'</p> + +<p>'Ay, in time; but it will be some time first. There are a +great many of them, enough to last me all the summer, if I +lose a customer a day,' said Piedro.</p> + +<p>'And next summer,' observed Francisco, 'what will you +do?'</p> + +<p>'Next summer is not come yet; there is time enough to +<span class="pagenum">[380]</span>think what I shall do before next summer comes. Why, now, +suppose the blockheads, after they had been taken in and found +it out, all joined against me, and would buy none of our fish—what +then? Are there no trades but that of a fisherman? In +Naples, are there not a hundred ways of making money for a +smart lad like me? as my father says. What do you think of +turning merchant, and selling sugar-plums and cakes to the +children in their market? Would they be hard to deal with, +think you?'</p> + +<p>'I think not,' said Francisco; 'but I think the children +would find out in time if they were cheated, and would like it +as little as the men.'</p> + +<p>'I don't doubt them. Then <i>in time</i> I could, you know, +change my trade—sell chips and sticks in the wood-market—hand +about the lemonade to the fine folks, or twenty other +things. There are trades enough, boy.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, for the honest dealer,' said Francisco, 'but for no +other; for in all of them you'll find, as <i>my</i> father says, that a good +character is the best fortune to set up with. Change your trade +ever so often, you'll be found out for what you are at last.'</p> + +<p>'And what am I, pray?' said Piedro, angrily. 'The whole +truth of the matter is, Francisco, that you envy my good luck, +and can't bear to hear this money jingle in my hand. Ay, +stroke the long ears of your ass, and look as wise as you +please. It's better to be lucky than wise, as <i>my</i> father says. +Good morning to you. When I am found out for what I am, +or when the worst comes to the worst, I can drive a stupid +ass, with his panniers filled with rubbish, as well as you do +now, <i>honest Francisco</i>?</p> + +<p>'Not quite so well. Unless you were <i>honest Francisco</i>, you +would not fill his panniers quite so readily.'</p> + +<p>This was certain, that Francisco was so well known for his +honesty amongst all the people at Naples with whom his father +was acquainted, that every one was glad to deal with him; and +as he never wronged any one, all were willing to serve him—at +least, as much as they could without loss to themselves; so +that after the market was over, his panniers were regularly +filled by the gardeners and others with whatever he wanted. +His industry was constant, his gains small but certain, and he +every day had more and more reason to trust to his father's +maxim—That honesty is the best policy.<span class="pagenum">[381]</span></p> + +<p>The foreign servant lad, to whom Francisco had so honestly, +or, as Piedro said, so sillily, shown the bruised side of the +melon, was an Englishman. He left his native country, of +which he was extremely fond, to attend upon his master, to +whom he was still more attached. His master was in a declining +state of health, and this young lad waited on him a little +more to his mind than his other servants. We must, in consideration +of his zeal, fidelity, and inexperience, pardon him for +not being a good judge of fish. Though he had simplicity +enough to be easily cheated once, he had too much sense to +be twice made a dupe. The next time he met Piedro in the +market, he happened to be in company with several English +gentlemen's servants, and he pointed Piedro out to them all +as an arrant knave. They heard his cry of 'Fresh fish! fresh +fish! fine fresh fish!' with incredulous smiles, and let him pass, +but not without some expressions of contempt, though uttered +in English, he tolerably well understood; for the tone of contempt +is sufficiently expressive in all languages. He lost more +by not selling his fish to these people than he had gained the +day before by cheating the <i>English booby</i>. The market was +well supplied, and he could not get rid of his cargo.</p> + +<p>'Is not this truly provoking?' said Piedro, as he passed by +Francisco, who was selling fruit for his father. 'Look, my +basket is as heavy as when I left home; and look at 'em yourself, +they really are fine fresh fish to-day; and yet, because +that revengeful booby told how I took him in yesterday, not +one of yonder crowd would buy them; and all the time they +really are fresh to-day!'</p> + +<p>'So they are,' said Francisco; 'but you said so yesterday, +when they were not; and he that was duped then is not ready +to believe you to-day. How does he know that you deserve it +better?'</p> + +<p>'He might have looked at the fish,' repeated Piedro; 'they +are fresh to-day. I am sure he need not have been afraid.'</p> + +<p>'Ay,' said Francisco; 'but as my father said to you once—the +scalded dog fears cold water.'<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">23</a></p> + +<p>Here their conversation was interrupted by the same English +lad, who smiled as he came up to Francisco, and taking up a +fine pine-apple, he said, in a mixture of bad Italian and English—'I +need not look at the other side of this; you will tell me<span class="pagenum">[382]</span> +if it is not as good as it looks. Name your price; I know you +have but one, and that an honest one; and as to the rest, I am +able and willing to pay for what I buy; that is to say, my +master is, which comes to the same thing. I wish your fruit +could make him well, and it would be worth its weight in gold—to +me, at least. We must have some of your grapes for +him.'</p> + +<p>'Is he not well?' inquired Francisco. 'We must, then, +pick out the best for him,' at the same time singling out a +tempting bunch. 'I hope he will like these; but if you could +some day come as far as Resina (it is a village but a few miles +out of town, where we have our vineyard), you could there +choose for yourself, and pluck them fresh from the vines for +your poor master.'</p> + +<p>'Bless you, my good boy; I should take you for an Englishman, +by your way of dealing. I'll come to your village. Only +write me down the name; for your Italian names slip through +my head. I'll come to the vineyard if it was ten miles off; and +all the time we stay in Naples (may it not be so long as I fear +it will!), with my master's leave, which he never refuses me to +anything that's proper, I'll deal with you for all our fruit, as +sure as my name's Arthur, and with none else, with my good +will. I wish all your countrymen would take after you in +honesty, indeed I do,' concluded the Englishman, looking full +at Piedro, who took up his unsold basket of fish, looking somewhat +silly, and gloomily walked off.</p> + +<p>Arthur, the English servant, was as good as his word. He +dealt constantly with Francisco, and proved an excellent +customer, buying from him during the whole season as much +fruit as his master wanted. His master, who was an Englishman +of distinction, was invited to take up his residence, during +his stay in Italy, at the Count de F.'s villa, which was in the +environs of Naples—an easy walk from Resina. Francisco +had the pleasure of seeing his father's vineyard often full of +generous visitors, and Arthur, who had circulated the anecdote +of the bruised melon, was, he said, 'proud to think that some +of this was his doing, and that an Englishman never forgot a +good turn, be it from a countryman or foreigner.'</p> + +<p>'My dear boy,' said Francisco's father to him, whilst Arthur +was in the vineyard helping to tend the vines, 'I am to thank +you and your honesty, it seems, for our having our hands so<span class="pagenum">[383]</span> +full of business this season. It is fair you should have a share +of our profits.'</p> + +<p>'So I have, father, enough and enough, when I see you and +mother going on so well. What can I want more?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, my brave boy, we know you are a grateful, good son; +but I have been your age myself; you have companions, you +have little expenses of your own. Here; this vine, this fig-tree, +and a melon a week next summer shall be yours. With these +make a fine figure amongst the little Neapolitan merchants; +and all I wish is that you may prosper as well, and by the same +honest means, in managing for yourself, as you have done +managing for me.'</p> + +<p>'Thank you, father; and if I prosper at all, it shall be by +those means, and no other, or I should not be worthy to be +called your son.'</p> + +<p>Piedro the cunning did not make quite so successful a +summer's work as did Francisco the honest. No extraordinary +events happened, no singular instance of bad or good luck +occurred; but he felt, as persons usually do, the natural consequences +of his own actions. He pursued his scheme of imposing, +as far as he could, upon every person he dealt with; and +the consequence was, that at last nobody would deal with him.</p> + +<p>'It is easy to outwit one person, but impossible to outwit all +the world,' said a man<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">24</a> who knew the world at least as well +as either Piedro or his father.</p> + +<p>Piedro's father, amongst others, had reason to complain. +He saw his own customers fall off from him, and was told, +whenever he went into the market, that his son was such a +cheat there was no dealing with him. One day, when he was +returning from the market in a very bad humour, in consequence +of these reproaches, and of his not having found +customers for his goods, he espied his <i>smart</i> son Piedro at a +little merchant's fruit-board, devouring a fine gourd with prodigious +greediness. 'Where, glutton, do you find money to +pay for these dainties?' exclaimed his father, coming close up +to him, with angry gestures. Piedro's mouth was much too +full to make an immediate reply, nor did his father wait for +any, but darting his hand into the youth's pocket, pulled forth +a handful of silver.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[384]</span></p> +<p>'The money, father,' said Piedro, 'that I got for the fish +yesterday, and that I meant to give you to-day, before you +went out.'</p> + +<p>'Then I'll make you remember it against another time, +sirrah!' said his father. 'I'll teach you to fill your stomach +with my money. Am I to lose my customers by your tricks, +and then find you here eating my all? You are a rogue, and +everybody has found you out to be a rogue; and the worst of +rogues I find you, who scruples not to cheat his own father.'</p> + +<p>Saying these words, with great vehemence he seized hold of +Piedro, and in the very midst of the little fruit-market gave him +a severe beating. This beating did the boy no good; it was +vengeance not punishment. Piedro saw that his father was in +a passion, and knew that he was beaten because he was found +out to be a rogue, rather than for being one. He recollected +perfectly that his father once said to him: 'Let every one +take care of his own grapes.'</p> + +<p>Indeed, it was scarcely reasonable to expect that a boy who +had been educated to think that he might cheat every customer +he could in the way of trade, should be afterwards scrupulously +honest in his conduct towards the father whose proverbs encouraged +his childhood in cunning.</p> + +<p>Piedro writhed with bodily pain as he left the market after +his drubbing, but his mind was not in the least amended. On +the contrary, he was hardened to the sense of shame by the loss +of reputation. All the little merchants were spectators of this +scene, and heard his father's words: 'You <i>are</i> a rogue, and the +worst of rogues, who scruples not to cheat his own father.'</p> + +<p>These words were long remembered, and long did Piedro feel +their effects. He once flattered himself that, when his trade of +selling fish failed him, he could readily engage in some other; +but he now found, to his mortification, that what Francisco's +father said proved true: 'In all trades the best fortune to set +up with is a good character.'</p> + +<p>Not one of the little Neapolitan merchants would either +enter into partnership with him, give him credit, or even trade +with him for ready money.—'If you would cheat your own +father, to be sure you will cheat us,' was continually said to him +by these prudent little people.</p> + +<p>Piedro was taunted and treated with contempt at home and +abroad. His father, when he found that his son's <i>smartness</i><span class="pagenum">[385]</span> +was no longer useful in making bargains, shoved him out of +his way whenever he met him. All the food or clothes that he +had at home seemed to be given to him grudgingly, and with +such expressions as these: 'Take that; but it is too good for +you. You must eat this, now, instead of gourds and figs—and +be thankful you have even this.'</p> + +<p>Piedro spent a whole winter very unhappily. He expected +that all his old tricks, and especially what his father had said +of him in the market-place, would be soon forgotten; but +month passed after month, and still these things were fresh in +the memory of all who had known them.</p> + +<p>It is not easy to get rid of a bad character. A very great +rogue<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">25</a> was once heard to say, that he would, with all his +heart, give ten thousand pounds for a good character, because he +knew that he could make twenty thousand by it.</p> + +<p>Something like this was the sentiment of our cunning hero +when he experienced the evils of a bad reputation, and when +he saw the numerous advantages which Francisco's good +character procured. Such had been Piedro's wretched education, +that even the hard lessons of experience could not alter +its pernicious effects. He was sorry his knavery had been +detected, but he still thought it clever to cheat, and was secretly +persuaded that, if he had cheated successfully, he should have +been happy. 'But I know I am not happy now,' said he to +himself one morning, as he sat alone disconsolate by the sea-shore, +dressed in tattered garments, weak and hungry, with an +empty basket beside him. His fishing-rod, which he held +between his knees, bent over the dry sands instead of into +the water, for he was not thinking of what he was about; his +arms were folded, his head hung down, and his ragged hat +was slouched over his face. He was a melancholy spectacle.</p> + +<p>Francisco, as he was coming from his father's vineyard with +a large dish of purple and white grapes upon his head, and a +basket of melons and figs hanging upon his arm, chanced to see +Piedro seated in this melancholy posture. Touched with compassion, +Francisco approached him softly; his footsteps were +not heard upon the sands, and Piedro did not perceive that +any one was near him till he felt something cold touch his +hand; he then started, and, looking up, saw a bunch of ripe +grapes, which Francisco was holding over his head.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[386]</span></p> +<p>'Eat them; you'll find them very good, I hope,' said +Francisco, with a benevolent smile.</p> + +<p>'They are excellent—most excellent, and I am much +obliged to you, Francisco,' said Piedro. 'I was very hungry, +and that's what I am now, without anybody's caring anything +about it. I am not the favourite I was with my father, but I +know it is all my own fault.'</p> + +<p>'Well, but cheer up,' said Francisco; 'my father always +says, "One who knows he has been in fault, and acknowledges +it, will scarcely be in fault again." Yes, take as many figs as +you will,' continued he; and held his basket closer to Piedro, +who, as he saw, cast a hungry eye upon one of the ripe figs.</p> + +<p>'But,' said Piedro, after he had taken several, 'shall not I +get you into a scrape by taking so many? Won't your father +be apt to miss them?'</p> + +<p>'Do you think I would give them to you if they were not +my own?' said Francisco, with a sudden glance of indignation.</p> + +<p>'Well, don't be angry that I asked the question; it was +only from fear of getting you into disgrace that I asked it.'</p> + +<p>'It would not be easy for anybody to do that, I hope,' said +Francisco, rather proudly.</p> + +<p>'And to me less than anybody,' replied Piedro, in an +insinuating tone, '<i>I</i>, that am so much obliged to you!'</p> + +<p>'A bunch of grapes and a few figs are no mighty obligation,' +said Francisco, smiling; 'I wish I could do more for you. +You seem, indeed, to have been very unhappy of late. We +never see you in the markets as we used to do.'</p> + +<p>'No; ever since my father beat me, and called me rogue +before all the children there, I have never been able to show +my face without being gibed at by one or t'other. If you +would but take me along with you amongst them, and only +just <i>seem</i> my friend for a day or two, or so, it would quite set +me up again; for they all like you.'</p> + +<p>'I would rather <i>be</i> than seem your friend, if I could,' said +Francisco.</p> + +<p>'Ay, to be sure; that would be still better,' said Piedro, +observing that Francisco, as he uttered his last sentence, was +separating the grapes and other fruits into two equal divisions. +'To be sure I would rather you would <i>be</i> than <i>seem</i> a friend to +me; but I thought that was too much to ask at first, though I<span class="pagenum">[387]</span> +have a notion, notwithstanding I have been so <i>unlucky</i> lately—I +have a notion you would have no reason to repent of it. You +would find me no bad hand, if you were to try, and take me +into partnership.'</p> + +<p>'Partnership!' interrupted Francisco, drawing back alarmed; +'I had no thoughts of that.'</p> + +<p>'But won't you? can't you?' said Piedro, in a supplicating +tone; '<i>can't</i> you have thoughts of it? You'd find me a very +active partner.'</p> + +<p>Francisco still drew back, and kept his eyes fixed upon the +ground. He was embarrassed; for he pitied Piedro, and he +scarcely knew how to point out to him that something more is +necessary in a partner in trade besides activity, and that is +honesty.</p> + +<p>'Can't you?' repeated Piedro, thinking that he hesitated +from merely mercenary motives. 'You shall have what share +of the profits you please.'</p> + +<p>'I was not thinking of the profits,' said Francisco; 'but +without meaning to be ill-natured to you, Piedro, I must say +that I cannot enter into any partnership with you at present; +but I will do what, perhaps, you will like as well,' said he, +taking half the fruit out of his basket; 'you are heartily +welcome to this; try and sell it in the children's fruit-market.' +'I'll go on before you, and speak to those I am acquainted +with, and tell them you are going to set up a new character, +and that you hope to make it a good one.'</p> + +<p>'Hey, shall I! Thank you for ever, dear Francisco,' cried +Piedro, seizing his plentiful gift of fruit. 'Say what you please +for me.'</p> + +<p>'But don't make me say anything that is not true,' said +Francisco, pausing.</p> + +<p>'No, to be sure not,' said Piedro; 'I <i>do</i> mean to give no +room for scandal. If I could get them to trust me as they do +you, I should be happy indeed.'</p> + +<p>'That is what you may do, if you please,' said Francisco. +'Adieu, I wish you well with all my heart; but I must leave +you now, or I shall be too late for the market.'<span class="pagenum">[388]</span></p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER II</h3> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"> +<p class="noin"> +<i>Chi va piano va sano, e anché lontano.</i><br /> +Fair and softly goes far in a day. +</p> +</div> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">Piedro</span> had now an opportunity of establishing a good character. +When he went into the market with his grapes and figs, +he found that he was not shunned or taunted as usual. All +seemed disposed to believe in his intended reformation, and to +give him a fair trial.</p> + +<p>These favourable dispositions towards him were the consequence +of Francisco's benevolent representations. He told +them that he thought Piedro had suffered enough to cure +him of his tricks, and that it would be cruelty in them, because +he might once have been in fault, to banish him by their +reproaches from amongst them, and thus to prevent him from +the means of gaining his livelihood honestly.</p> + +<p>Piedro made a good beginning, and gave what several of +the younger customers thought excellent bargains. His grapes +and figs were quickly sold, and with the money that he got +for them he the next day purchased from a fruit-dealer a fresh +supply; and thus he went on for some time, conducting himself +with scrupulous honesty, so that he acquired some credit +among his companions. They no longer watched him with +suspicious eyes. They trusted to his measures and weights, +and they counted less carefully the change which they received +from him.</p> + +<p>The satisfaction he felt from this alteration in their manners +was at first delightful, to Piedro; but in proportion to his credit, +his opportunities of defrauding increased; and these became +temptations which he had not the firmness to resist. His old +manner of thinking recurred.</p> + +<p>'I make but a few shillings a day, and this is but slow +work,' said he to himself. 'What signifies my good character, +if I make so little by it?'</p> + +<p>Light gains, and frequent, make a heavy purse,<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">26</a> was one +<span class="pagenum">[389]</span>of Francisco's proverbs. But Piedro was in too great haste to +get rich to take time into his account. He set his invention +to work, and he did not want for ingenuity, to devise means of +cheating without running the risk of detection. He observed +that the younger part of the community were extremely fond of +certain coloured sugar-plums, and of burnt almonds.</p> + +<p>With the money he had earned by two months' trading in +fruit he laid in a large stock of what appeared to these little +merchants a stock of almonds and sugar-plums, and he painted +in capital gold coloured letters upon his board, 'Sweetest, +largest, most admirable sugar-plums of all colours ever sold in +Naples, to be had here; and in gratitude to his numerous +customers, Piedro adds to these "Burnt almonds gratis."'</p> + +<p>This advertisement attracted the attention of all who could +read; and many who could not read heard it repeated with +delight. Crowds of children surrounded Piedro's board of +promise, and they all went away the first day amply satisfied. +Each had a full measure of coloured sugar-plums at the usual +price, and along with these a burnt almond gratis. The burnt +almond had such an effect upon the public judgment, that it +was universally allowed that the sugar-plums were, as the +advertisement set forth, the largest, sweetest, most admirable +ever sold in Naples; though all the time they were, in no +respect, better than any other sugar-plums.</p> + +<p>It was generally reported that Piedro gave full measure—fuller +than any other board in the city. He measured the +sugar-plums in a little cubical tin box; and this, it was affirmed, +he heaped up to the top and pressed down before he poured +out the contents into the open hands of his approving customers. +This belief, and Piedro's popularity, continued longer even +than he had expected; and, as he thought his sugar-plums had +secured their reputation with the <i>generous public</i>, he gradually +neglected to add burnt almonds gratis.</p> + +<p>One day a boy of about ten years old passed carelessly by, +whistling as he went along, and swinging a carpenter's rule in +his hand. 'Ha! what have we here?' cried he, stopping to +read what was written on Piedro's board. 'This promises +rarely. Old as I am, and tall of my age, which makes the +matter worse, I am still as fond of sugar-plums as my little +sister, who is five years younger than I. Come, Signor, fill me +quick, for I'm in haste to taste them, two measures of the<span class="pagenum">[390]</span> +sweetest, largest, most admirable sugar-plums in Naples—one +measure for myself, and one for my little Rosetta.'</p> + +<p>'You'll pay for yourself and your sister, then,' said Piedro, +'for no credit is given here.'</p> + +<p>'No credit do I ask,' replied the lively boy; 'when I told +you I loved sugar-plums, did I tell you I loved them, or even +my sister, so well as to run in debt for them? Here's for +myself, and here's for my sister's share,' said he, laying down +his money; 'and now for the burnt almonds gratis, my good +fellow.'</p> + +<p>'They are all out; I have been out of burnt almonds this +great while,' said Piedro.</p> + +<p>'Then why are they in your advertisement here?' said +Carlo.</p> + +<p>'I have not had time to scratch them out of the board.'</p> + +<p>'What! not when you have, by your own account, been out +of them a great while? I did not know it required so much +time to blot out a few words—let us try'; and as he spoke, +Carlo, for that was the name of Piedro's new customer, pulled +a bit of white chalk out of his pocket, and drew a broad score +across the line on the board which promised burnt almonds +gratis.</p> + +<p>'You are most impatient,' said Piedro; 'I shall have a +fresh stock of almonds to-morrow.' 'Why must the board tell +a lie to-day?' 'It would ruin me to alter it,' said Piedro. +'A lie may ruin you, but I could scarcely think the truth +could.' 'You have no right to meddle with me or my board,' +said Piedro, put off his guard, and out of his usual soft voice +of civility, by this last observation. 'My character, and that +of my board, are too firmly established now for any chance +customer like you to injure.' 'I never dreamed of injuring +you or any one else,' said Carlo—'I wish, moreover, you may +not injure yourself. Do as you please with your board, but +give me my sugar-plums, for I have some right to meddle with +those, having paid for them.' 'Hold out your hand, then.' +'No, put them in here, if you please; put my sister's, at least, +in here; she likes to have them in this box: I bought some +for her in it yesterday, and she'll think they'll taste the better +out of the same box. But how is this? your measure does not +fill my box nearly; you give us very few sugar-plums for our +money.' 'I give you full measure, as I give to everybody.' +<span class="pagenum">[391]</span> +'The measure should be an inch cube, I know,' said Carlo; +'that's what all the little merchants have agreed to, you know.' +'True,' said Piedro, 'so it is.' 'And so it is, I must allow,' +said Carlo, measuring the outside of it with the carpenter's +rule which he held in his hand. 'An inch every way; and yet +by my eye—and I have no bad one, being used to measuring +carpenter's work for my father—by my eye, I should think +this would have held more sugar-plums.' 'The eye often +deceives us,' said Piedro. 'There's nothing like measuring, +you find.' 'There's nothing like measuring, I find, indeed,' +replied Carlo, as he looked closely at the end of his rule, +which, since he spoke last, he had put into the tin cube to +take its depth in the inside. 'This is not as deep by a quarter +of an inch, Signor Piedro, measured within as it is measured +without.'</p> + +<p>Piedro changed colour terribly, and seizing hold of the tin +box, endeavoured to wrest it from the youth who measured so +accurately. Carlo held his prize fast, and lifting it above his +head, he ran into the midst of the square where the little +market was held, exclaiming, 'A discovery! a discovery! that +concerns all who love sugar-plums. A discovery! a discovery! +that concerns all who have ever bought the sweetest, largest, +and most admirable sugar-plums ever sold in Naples.'</p> + +<p>The crowd gathered from all parts of the square as he +spoke.</p> + +<p>'We have bought,' and 'We have bought of those sugar-plums,' +cried several little voices at once, 'if you mean +Piedro's.'</p> + +<p>'The same,' continued Carlo—'he who, out of gratitude to +his numerous customers, gives, or promises to give, burnt +almonds gratis.'</p> + +<p>'Excellent they were!' cried several voices. 'We all know +Piedro well; but what's your discovery?'</p> + +<p>'My discovery is,' said Carlo, 'that you, none of you, know +Piedro. Look you here; look at this box—this is his measure; +it has a false bottom—it holds only three-quarters as much as +it ought to do; and his numerous customers have all been +cheated of one-quarter of every measure of the admirable sugar-plums +they have bought from him. "Think twice of a good +bargain," says the proverb.'</p> + +<p>'So we have been finely duped, indeed,' cried some of the<span class="pagenum">[392]</span> +bystanders, looking at one another with a mortified air. Full +of courtesy, full of craft!<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">27</a> 'So this is the meaning of his +burnt almonds gratis,' cried others; all joined in an uproar of +indignation, except one, who, as he stood behind the rest, +expressed in his countenance silent surprise and sorrow.</p> + +<p>'Is this Piedro a relation of yours?' said Carlo, going up +to this silent person. 'I am sorry, if he be, that I have +published his disgrace, for I would not hurt <i>you</i>. You don't +sell sugar-plums as he does, I'm sure; for my little sister +Rosetta has often bought from you. Can this Piedro be a +friend of yours?'</p> + +<p>'I wished to have been his friend, but I see I can't,' said +Francisco. 'He is a neighbour of ours, and I pitied him; but +since he is at his old tricks again, there's an end of the matter. +I have reason to be obliged to you, for I was nearly taken in. +He has behaved so well for some time past, that I intended +this very evening to have gone to him, and to have told him +that I was willing to do for him what he has long begged of +me to do—to enter into partnership with him.'</p> + +<p>'Francisco! Francisco! your measure, lend us your measure!' +exclaimed a number of little merchants crowding round him. +'You have a measure for sugar-plums; and we have all agreed +to refer to that, and to see how much we have been cheated +before we go to break Piedro's bench and declare him bankrupt,<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">28</a>—the +punishment for all knaves.'</p> + +<p>They pressed on to Francisco's board, obtained his measure, +found that it held something more than a quarter above the +quantity that could be contained in Piedro's. The cries of the +enraged populace were now most clamorous. They hung the +just and the unjust measures upon high poles; and, forming +themselves into a formidable phalanx, they proceeded towards +Piedro's well-known yellow-lettered beard, exclaiming, as they +went along, 'Common cause! common cause! The little +Neapolitan merchants will have no knaves amongst them! Break +his bench! break his bench! He is a bankrupt in honesty.'</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[393]</span></p> +<p>Piedro saw the mob, heard the indignant clamour, and +terrified at the approach of numbers, he fled with the utmost +precipitation, having scarcely time to pack up half his sugar-plums. +There was a prodigious number, more than would +have filled many honest measures, scattered upon the ground +and trampled under foot by the crowd. Piedro's bench was +broken, and the public vengeance wreaked itself also upon his +treacherous painted board. It was, after being much disfigured +by various inscriptions expressive of the universal contempt +for Piedro, hung up in a conspicuous part of the market-place; +and the false measure was fastened like a cap upon one of +its corners. Piedro could never more show his face in this +market, and all hopes of friendship—all hopes of partnership +with Francisco—were for ever at an end.</p> + +<p>If rogues would calculate, they would cease to be rogues; +for they would certainly discover that it is most for their +interest to be honest—setting aside the pleasure of being +esteemed and beloved, of having a safe conscience, with perfect +freedom from all the various embarrassments and terror to which +knaves are subject. Is it not clear that our crafty hero would +have gained rather more by a partnership with Francisco, and +by a fair character, than he could possibly obtain by fraudulent +dealing in comfits?</p> + +<p>When the mob had dispersed, after satisfying themselves +with executing summary justice upon Piedro's bench and board, +Francisco found a carpenter's rule lying upon the ground near +Piedro's broken bench, which he recollected to have seen in +the hands of Carlo. He examined it carefully, and he found +Carlo's name written upon it, and the name of the street where +he lived; and though it was considerably out of his way, he +set out immediately to restore the rule, which was a very handsome +one, to its rightful owner. After a hot walk through +several streets, he overtook Carlo, who had just reached the +door of his own house. Carlo was particularly obliged to him, +he said, for restoring this rule to him, as it was a present from +the master of a vessel, who employed his father to do carpenter's +work for him. 'One should not praise one's self, they say,' +continued Carlo; 'but I long so much to gain your good opinion, +that I must tell you the whole history of the rule you have +restored. It was given to me for having measured the work +and made up the bill of a whole pleasure-boat myself. You<span class="pagenum">[394]</span> +may guess I should have been sorry enough to have lost it. +Thank you for its being once more in my careless hands, and +tell me, I beg, whenever I can do you any service. By-the-bye, +I can make up for you a fruit stall. I'll do it to-morrow, and +it shall be the admiration of the market. Is there anything +else you could think of for me?'</p> + +<p>'Why, yes,' said Francisco; 'since you are so good-natured, +perhaps you'd be kind enough to tell me the meaning of some +of those lines and figures that I see upon your rule. I have a +great curiosity to know their use.'</p> + +<p>'That I'll explain to you with pleasure, as far as I know +them myself; but when I'm at fault, my father, who is +cleverer than I am, and understands trigonometry, can help +us out.'</p> + +<p>'Trigonometry!' repeated Francisco, not a little alarmed +at the high-sounding word; 'that's what I certainly shall never +understand.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, never fear,' replied Carlo, laughing. 'I looked just +as you do now—I felt just as you do now—all in a fright and +a puzzle, when I first heard of angles and sines, and co-sines, +and arcs and centres, and complements and tangents.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, mercy! mercy!' interrupted Francisco, whilst Carlo +laughed, with a benevolent sense of superiority.</p> + +<p>'Why,' said Carlo, 'you'll find all these things are nothing +when you are used to them. But I cannot explain my rule to +you here broiling in the sun. Besides, it will not be the work +of a day, I promise you; but come and see us at your leisure +hours, and we'll study it together. I have a great notion we +shall become friends; and, to begin, step in with me now,' +said Carlo, 'and eat a little macaroni with us. I know it is +ready by this time. Besides, you'll see my father, and he'll +show you plenty of rules and compasses, as you like such +things; and then I'll go home with you in the cool of the +evening, and you shall show me your melons and vines, and +teach me, in time, something of gardening. Oh, I see we +must be good friends, just made for each other; so come in—no +ceremony.'</p> + +<p>Carlo was not mistaken in his predictions; he and Francisco +became very good friends, spent all their leisure hours together, +either in Carlo's workshop or in Francisco's vineyard, and +they mutually improved each other. Francisco, before he saw<span class="pagenum">[395]</span> +his friend's rule, knew but just enough of arithmetic to calculate +in his head the price of the fruit which he sold in the market; +but with Carlo's assistance, and the ambition to understand +the tables and figures upon the wonderful rule, he set to work +in earnest, and in due time satisfied both himself and his +master.</p> + +<p>'Who knows but these things that I am learning now may +be of some use to me before I die?' said Francisco, as he was +sitting one morning with his tutor, the carpenter.</p> + +<p>'To be sure it will,' said the carpenter, putting down his +compasses, with which he was drawing a circle. 'Arithmetic +is a most useful, and I was going to say necessary thing to be +known by men in all stations; and a little trigonometry does +no harm. In short, my maxim is, that no knowledge comes +amiss; for a man's head is of as much use to him as his hands; +and even more so.</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"> +<p>'A word to the wise will always suffice.</p> +</div> + +<p>'Besides, to say nothing of making a fortune, is not there +a great pleasure in being something of a scholar, and being +able to pass one's time with one's book, and one's compasses +and pencil? Safe companions these for young and old. No +one gets into mischief that has pleasant things to think of and +to do when alone; and I know, for my part, that trigonometry +is——'</p> + +<p>Here the carpenter, just as he was going to pronounce a +fresh panegyric upon his favourite trigonometry, was interrupted +by the sudden entrance of his little daughter Rosetta, all in +tears: a very unusual spectacle, for, taking the year round, +she shed fewer tears than any child of her age in Naples.</p> + +<p>'Why, my dear good-humoured little Rosetta, what has +happened? Why these large tears?' said her brother Carlo, +and he went up to her, and wiped them from her cheeks. +'And these that are going over the bridge of the nose so fast? +I must stop these tears too,' said Carlo.</p> + +<p>Rosetta, at this speech, burst out laughing, and said that +she did not know till then that she had any bridge on her +nose.</p> + +<p>'And were these shells the cause of the tears?' said her +brother, looking at a heap of shells which she held before her +in her frock.<span class="pagenum">[396]</span></p> + +<p>'Yes, partly,' said Rosetta. 'It was partly my own fault, +but not all. You know I went out to the carpenters' yard, +near the arsenal, where all the children are picking up chips +and sticks so busily; and I was as busy as any of them, +because I wanted to fill my basket soon; and then I thought +I should sell my basketful directly in the little wood-market. +As soon as I had filled my basket, and made up my faggot +(which was not done, brother, till I was almost baked by the +sun, for I was forced to wait by the carpenters for the bits of +wood to make up my faggot)—I say, when it was all ready, +and my basket full, I left it all together in the yard.' 'That was +not wise to leave it,' said Carlo. 'But I only left it for a few +minutes, brother, and I could not think anybody would be so +dishonest as to take it whilst I was away. I only just ran to +tell a boy, who had picked up all these beautiful shells upon +the sea-shore, and who wanted to sell them, that I should be +glad to buy them from him, if he would only be so good as to +keep them for me, for an hour or so, till I had carried my wood +to market, and till I had sold it, and so had money to pay him +for the shells.'</p> + +<p>'Your heart was set mightily on these shells, Rosetta.'</p> + +<p>'Yes; for I thought you and Francisco, brother, would like +to have them for your nice grotto that you are making at +Resina. That was the reason I was in such a hurry to get +them. The boy who had them to sell was very good-natured; +he poured them into my lap, and said I had such an honest +face he would trust me, and that as he was in a great hurry, +he could not wait an hour whilst I sold my wood; but that he +was sure I would pay him in the evening, and he told me that +he would call here this evening for the money. But now what +shall I do, Carlo? I shall have no money to give him: I must +give him back his shells, and that's a great pity.'</p> + +<p>'But how happened it that you did not sell your wood?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, I forgot; did not I tell you that? When I went +back for my basket, do you know it was empty, quite empty, +not a chip left? Some dishonest person had carried it all off. +Had not I reason to cry now, Carlo?'</p> + +<p>'I'll go this minute into the wood-market, and see if I can +find your faggot. Won't that be better than crying?' said +her brother. 'Should you know any one of your pieces of +wood again if you were to see them?'</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[397]</span></p> + +<p>'Yes, one of them, I am sure, I should know again,' said +Rosetta. 'It had a notch at one end of it, where one of the +carpenters cut it off from another piece of wood for me.'</p> + +<p>'And is this piece of wood from which the carpenter cut it +still to be seen?' said Francisco. 'Yes, it is in the yard; +but I cannot bring it to you, for it is very heavy.'</p> + +<p>'We can go to it,' said Francisco, 'and I hope we shall +recover your basketful.'</p> + +<p>Carlo and his friend went with Rosetta immediately to the +yard, near the arsenal, saw the notched piece of wood, and +then proceeded to the little wood-market, and searched every +heap that lay before the little factors; but no notched bit was +to be found, and Rosetta declared that she did not see one +stick that looked at all like any of hers.</p> + +<p>On their part, her companions eagerly untied their faggots +to show them to her, and exclaimed, 'that they were incapable +of taking what did not belong to them; that of all persons they +should never have thought of taking anything from the good-natured +little Rosetta, who was always ready to give to others, +and to help them in making up their loads.'</p> + +<p>Despairing of discovering the thief, Francisco and Carlo +left the market. As they were returning home, they were met +by the English servant Arthur, who asked Francisco where he +had been, and where he was going.</p> + +<p>As soon as he heard of Rosetta's lost faggot, and of the +bit of wood, notched at one end, of which Rosetta drew the +shape with a piece of chalk which her brother had lent her, +Arthur exclaimed, 'I have seen such a bit of wood as this +within this quarter of an hour; but I cannot recollect where. +Stay! this was at the baker's, I think, where I went for some +rolls for my master. It was lying beside his oven.'</p> + +<p>To the baker's they all went as fast as possible, and they +got there but just in time. The baker had in his hand the +bit of wood with which he was that instant going to feed his +oven.</p> + +<p>'Stop, good Mr. Baker!' cried Rosetta, who ran into the +baker's shop first; and as he heard 'Stop! stop!' re-echoed +by many voices, the baker stopped; and turning to Francisco, +Carlo, and Arthur, begged, with a countenance of some +surprise, to know why they had desired him to stop.</p> + +<p>The case was easily explained, and the baker told them<span class="pagenum">[398]</span> +that he did not buy any wood in the little market that morning; +that this faggot he had purchased between the hours of +twelve and one from a lad about Francisco's height, whom he +met near the yard of the arsenal.</p> + +<p>'This is my bit of wood, I am sure; I know it by this +notch,' said Rosetta.</p> + +<p>'Well,' said the baker, 'if you will stay here a few minutes, +you will probably see the lad who sold it to me. He desired +to be paid in bread, and my bread was not quite baked when +he was here. I bid him call again in an hour, and I fancy he +will be pretty punctual, for he looked desperately hungry.'</p> + +<p>The baker had scarcely finished speaking when Francisco, +who was standing watching at the door, exclaimed, 'Here +comes Piedro! I hope he is not the boy who sold you the +wood, Mr. Baker?' 'He is the boy, though,' replied the +baker, and Piedro, who now entered the shop, started at the +sight of Carlo and Francisco, whom he had never seen since +the day of disgrace in the fruit-market.</p> + +<p>'Your servant, Signor Piedro,' said Carlo; 'I have the +honour to tell you that this piece of wood, and all that you +took out of the basket, which you found in the yard of the +arsenal, belongs to my sister.' 'Yes, indeed,' cried Rosetta.</p> + +<p>Piedro being very certain that nobody saw him when he +emptied Rosetta's basket, and imagining that he was suspected +only upon the bare assertion of a child like Rosetta, +who might be baffled and frightened out of her story, boldly +denied the charge, and defied any one to prove him guilty.</p> + +<p>'He has a right to be heard in his own defence,' said +Arthur, with the cool justice of an Englishman; and he +stopped the angry Carlo's arm, who was going up to the +culprit with all the Italian vehemence of oratory and gesture. +Arthur went on to say something in bad Italian about the +excellence of an English trial by jury, which Carlo was too +much enraged to hear, but to which Francisco paid attention, +and turning to Piedro, he asked him if he was willing to be +judged by twelve of his equals. 'With all my heart,' said +Piedro, still maintaining an unmoved countenance, and they +returned immediately to the little wood-market. On their way, +they had passed through the fruit-market, and crowds of those +who were well acquainted with Piedro's former transactions +followed, to hear the event of the present trial.<span class="pagenum">[399]</span></p> + +<p>Arthur could not, especially as he spoke wretched Italian, +make the eager little merchants understand the nature and +advantages of an English trial by jury. They preferred their +own summary mode of proceeding. Francisco, in whose integrity +all had perfect confidence, was chosen with unanimous +shouts for the judge; but he declined the office, and another +was appointed. He was raised upon a bench, and the guilty +but insolent-looking Piedro, and the ingenuous, modest Rosetta +stood before him. She made her complaint in a very artless +manner; and Piedro, with ingenuity, which in a better cause +would have deserved admiration, spoke volubly and craftily in +his own defence. But all that he could say could not alter +facts. The judge compared the notched bit of wood found at +the baker's with a piece from which it was cut, which he went +to see in the yard of the arsenal. It was found to fit exactly. +The judge then found it impossible to restrain the loud indignation +of all the spectators. The prisoner was sentenced +never more to sell wood in the market; and the moment +sentence was pronounced, Piedro was hissed and hooted out +of the market-place. Thus a third time he deprived himself of +the means of earning his bread.</p> + +<p>We shall not dwell upon all his petty methods of cheating +in the trades he next attempted. He handed lemonade about +in a part of Naples where he was not known, but he lost his +customers by putting too much water and too little lemon into +this beverage. He then took to the waters from the sulphurous +springs, and served them about to foreigners; but one day, as +he was trying to jostle a competitor from the coach door, he +slipped his foot and broke his glasses. They had been +borrowed from an old woman who hired out glasses to the +boys who sold lemonade. Piedro knew that it was the custom +to pay, of course, for all that was broken; but this he was not +inclined to do. He had a few shillings in his pocket, and +thought that it would be very clever to defraud this poor +woman of her right, and to spend his shillings upon what +he valued much more than he did his good name—macaroni. +The shillings were soon gone.</p> + +<p>We shall now for the present leave Piedro to his follies and +his fate; or, to speak more properly, to his follies and their +inevitable consequences.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i036f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i036t.jpg" alt="i036"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>Piedro was hissed and hooted out of the market-place.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>Francisco was all this time acquiring knowledge from his<span class="pagenum">[401]</span> +new friends, without neglecting his own or his father's business. +He contrived, during the course of autumn and winter, to make +himself a tolerable arithmetician. Carlo's father could draw +plans in architecture neatly; and, pleased with the eagerness +Francisco showed to receive instruction, he willingly put a +pencil and compasses into his hand, and taught him all he +knew himself. Francisco had great perseverance, and, by +repeated trials, he at length succeeded in copying exactly all +the plans which his master lent him. His copies, in time, +surpassed the originals, and Carlo exclaimed, with astonishment: +'Why, Francisco, what an astonishing <i>genius</i> you +have for drawing!—Absolutely you draw plans better than +my father!'</p> + +<p>'As to genius,' said Francisco, honestly, 'I have none. +All that I have done has been done by hard labour. I don't +know how other people do things; but I am sure that I never +have been able to get anything done well but by patience. +Don't you remember, Carlo, how you and even Rosetta +laughed at me the first time your father put a pencil into my +awkward, clumsy hands?'</p> + +<p>'Because,' said Carlo, laughing again at the recollection, +'you held your pencil so drolly; and when you were to cut it, +you cut it just as if you were using a pruning-knife to your +vines; but now it is your turn to laugh, for you surpass us all. +And the times are changed since I set about to explain this +rule of mine to you.'</p> + +<p>'Ay, that rule,' said Francisco—'how much I owe to it! +Some great people, when they lose any of their fine things, +cause the crier to promise a reward of so much money to anyone +who shall find and restore their trinket. How richly have +you and your father rewarded me for returning this rule!'</p> + +<p>Francisco's modesty and gratitude, as they were perfectly +sincere, attached his friends to him most powerfully; but there +was one person who regretted our hero's frequent absences +from his vineyard at Resina. Not Francisco's father, for he +was well satisfied his son never neglected his business; and as +to the hours spent in Naples, he had so much confidence in +Francisco, that he felt no apprehensions of his getting into bad +company. When his son had once said to him, 'I spend my +time at such a place, and in such and such a manner,' he was +as well convinced of its being so as if he had watched and seen<span class="pagenum">[402]</span> +him every moment of the day. But it was Arthur who complained +of Francisco's absence.</p> + +<p>'I see, because I am an Englishman,' said he, 'you don't +value my friendship, and yet that is the very reason you ought +to value it; no friends so good as the English, be it spoken +without offence to your Italian friend, for whom you now continually +leave me to dodge up and down here in Resina, without +a soul that I like to speak to, for you are the only Italian +I ever liked.'</p> + +<p>'You <i>shall</i> like another, I promise you,' said Francisco. +'You must come with me to Carlo's, and see how I spend my +evenings; then complain of me, if you can.'</p> + +<p>It was the utmost stretch of Arthur's complaisance to pay +this visit; but, in spite of his national prejudices and habitual +reserve of temper, he was pleased with the reception he met +with from the generous Carlo and the playful Rosetta. They +showed him Francisco's drawings with enthusiastic eagerness; +and Arthur, though no great judge of drawing, was in astonishment, +and frequently repeated, 'I know a gentleman who visits +my master who would like these things. I wish I might have +them to show him.'</p> + +<p>'Take them, then,' said Carlo; 'I wish all Naples could +see them, provided they might be liked half as well as I like +them.'</p> + +<p>Arthur carried off the drawings, and one day, when his +master was better than usual, and when he was at leisure, +eating a dessert of Francisco's grapes, he entered respectfully, +with his little portfolio under his arm, and begged permission +to show his master a few drawings done by the gardener's son, +whose grapes he was eating.</p> + +<p>Though not quite so partial a judge as the enthusiastic +Carlo, this gentleman was both pleased and surprised at the +sight of these drawings, considering how short a time Francisco +had applied himself to this art, and what slight instructions +he had received. Arthur was desired to summon the young +artist. Francisco's honest, open manner, joined to the proofs +he had given of his abilities, and the character Arthur gave +him for strict honesty, and constant kindness to his parents, +interested Mr. Lee, the name of this English gentleman, much +in his favour. Mr. Lee was at this time in treaty with an +Italian painter, whom he wished to engage to copy for him<span class="pagenum">[403]</span> +exactly some of the cornices, mouldings, tablets, and antique +ornaments which are to be seen amongst the ruins of the +ancient city of Herculaneum.<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">29</a></p> + + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29">29</a> We +must give those of our young English readers who may not be +acquainted with the ancient city of Herculaneum some idea of it. None +can be ignorant that near Naples is the celebrated volcanic mountain of +Vesuvius;—that, from time to time, there happen violent eruptions from +this mountain; that is to say, flames and immense clouds of smoke issue +from different openings, mouths, or <i>craters</i>, as they are called, but more +especially from the summit of the mountain, which is distinguished by the +name of <i>the</i> crater. A rumbling, and afterwards a roaring noise is heard +within, and prodigious quantities of stones and minerals burnt into masses +(scoriæ) are thrown out of the crater, sometimes to a great distance. +The hot ashes from Mount Vesuvius have often been seen upon the roofs +of the houses of Naples, from which it is six miles distant. Streams of +lava run down the sides of the mountain during the time of an eruption, +destroying everything in their way, and overwhelm the houses and vineyards +which are in the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p class="noin">About 1700 years ago, during the reign of the Roman Emperor Titus, +there happened a terrible eruption of Mount Vesuvius; and a large city +called Herculaneum, which was situated at about four miles' distance from +the volcano, was overwhelmed by the streams of lava which poured into +it, filled up the streets, and quickly covered over the tops of the houses, so +that the whole was no more visible. It remained for many years buried. +The lava which covered it became in time fit for vegetation, plants grew +there, a new soil was formed, and a new town called Portici was built over +the place where Herculaneum formerly stood. The little village of Resina +is also situated near the spot. About fifty years ago, in a poor man's +garden at Resina, a hole in a well about thirty feet below the surface of +the earth was observed. Some persons had the curiosity to enter into this +hole, and, after creeping underground for some time, they came to the +foundations of houses. The peasants, inhabitants of the village, who had +probably never heard of Herculaneum, were somewhat surprised at their +discovery.<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">30</a> +About the same time, in a pit in the town of Portici, a similar +passage under ground was discovered, and, by orders of the King of +Naples, workmen were employed to dig away the earth, and clear the +passages. They found, at length, the entrance into the town, which, +during the reign of Titus, was buried under lava. It was about eighty-eight +Neapolitan palms (a palm contains near nine inches) below the top +of the pit. The workmen, as they cleared the passages, marked their way +with chalk when they came to any turning, lest they should lose themselves. +The streets branched out in many directions, and, lying across them, the +workmen often found large pieces of timber, beams, and rafters; some +broken in the fall, others entire. These beams and rafters are burned +quite black, and look like charcoal, except those that were found in moist +places, which have more the colour of rotten wood, and which are like a +soft paste, into which you might run your hand. The walls of the houses +slant, some one way, some another, and some are upright. Several +magnificent buildings of brick, faced with marble of different colours, are +partly seen, where the workmen have cleared away the earth and lava with +which they were encrusted. Columns of red and white marble, and flights +of marble steps, are seen in different places; and out of the ruins of the +palaces some very fine statues and pictures have been dug. Foreigners +who visit Naples are very curious to see this subterraneous city, and are +desirous to carry with them into their own country some proofs of their +having examined this wonderful place.</p></div> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum">[404]</span></p> +<h3>CHAPTER III</h3> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"> +<p class="noin"> +<i>Tutte le gran faciende si fanno di foca cosa.</i><br /> +What great events from trivial causes spring. +</p> +</div> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">Signor Camillo</span>, the artist employed by Mr. Lee to copy +some of the antique ornaments in Herculaneum, was a liberal-minded +man, perfectly free from that mean jealousy which +would repress the efforts of rising genius.</p> + +<p>'Here is a lad scarcely fifteen, a poor gardener's son, who, +with merely the instructions he could obtain from a common +carpenter, has learned to draw these plans and elevations, which +you see are tolerably neat. What an advantage your instruction +would be to him,' said Mr. Lee, as he introduced Francisco +to Signor Camillo. 'I am interested in this lad from what I +have learned of his good conduct. I hear he is strictly honest, +and one of the best of sons. Let us do something for him. +If you will give him some knowledge of your art, I will, as far +as money can recompense you for your loss of time, pay whatever +you may think reasonable for his instruction.'</p> + +<p>Signor Camillo made no difficulties; he was pleased with +his pupil's appearance, and every day he liked him better and +better. In the room where they worked together there were +some large books of drawings and plates, which Francisco saw +now and then opened by his master, and which he had a great +desire to look over; but when he was left in the room by himself +he never touched them, because he had not permission. +Signor Camillo, the first day he came into his room with his +pupil, said to him, 'Here are many valuable books and drawings, +young man. I trust, from the character I have heard of +you, that they will be perfectly safe here.'</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[405]</span></p> + +<p>Some weeks after Francisco had been with the painter, they +had occasion to look for the front of a temple in one of these +large books. 'What! don't you know in which book to look +for it, Francisco?' cried his master, with some impatience. +'Is it possible that you have been here so long with these books, +and that you cannot find the print I mean? Had you half the +taste I gave you credit for, you would have singled it out from +all the rest, and have it fixed in your memory.'</p> + +<p>'But, signor, I never saw it,' said Francisco, respectfully, +'or perhaps I should have preferred it.'</p> + +<p>'That you never saw it, young man, is the very thing of +which I complain. Is a taste for the arts to be learned, think +you, by looking at the cover of a book like this? Is it possible +that you never thought of opening it?'</p> + +<p>'Often and often,' cried Francisco, 'have I longed to open +it; but I thought it was forbidden me, and however great my +curiosity in your absence, I have never touched them. I hoped, +indeed, that the time would come when you would have the +goodness to show them to me.'</p> + +<p>'And so the time is come, excellent young man,' cried +Camillo; 'much as I love taste, I love integrity more. I am +now sure of your having the one, and let me see whether you +have, as I believe you have, the other. Sit you down here +beside me; and we will look over these books together.'</p> + +<p>The attention with which his young pupil examined everything, +and the pleasure he unaffectedly expressed in seeing these +excellent prints, sufficiently convinced his judicious master that +it was not from the want of curiosity or taste that he had never +opened these tempting volumes. His confidence in Francisco +was much increased by this circumstance, slight as it may +appear.</p> + +<p>One day Signor Camillo came behind Francisco, as he was +drawing with much intentness, and tapping him upon the +shoulder, he said to him: 'Put up your pencils and follow me. +I can depend upon your integrity; I have pledged myself for +it. Bring your note-book with you, and follow me; I will this +day show you something that will entertain you at least as +much as my large book of prints. Follow me.'</p> + +<p>Francisco followed, till they came to the pit near the entrance +of Herculaneum. 'I have obtained leave for you to accompany +me,' said his master, 'and you know, I suppose, that this is<span class="pagenum">[406]</span> +not a permission granted to every one?' Paintings of great +value, besides ornaments of gold and silver, antique bracelets, +rings, etc., are from time to time found amongst these ruins, +and therefore it is necessary that no person should be admitted +whose honesty cannot be depended upon. Thus, even +Francisco's talents could not have advanced him in the world, +unless they had been united to integrity. He was much +delighted and astonished by the new scene that was now opened +to his view; and as, day after day, he accompanied his master +to this subterraneous city, he had leisure for observation. He +was employed, as soon as he had gratified his curiosity, in +drawing. There are niches in the walls in several places, +from which pictures have been dug, and these niches are often +adorned with elegant masks, figures and animals, which have +been left by the ignorant or careless workmen, and which are +going fast to destruction. Signor Camillo, who was copying +these for his English employer, had a mind to try his pupil's +skill, and, pointing to a niche bordered with grotesque figures, +he desired him to try if he could make any hand of it. +Francisco made several trials, and at last finished such an +excellent copy, that his enthusiastic and generous master, with +warm encomiums, carried it immediately to his patron, and he +had the pleasure to receive from Mr. Lee a purse containing +five guineas, as a reward and encouragement for his pupil.</p> + +<p>Francisco had no sooner received this money than he hurried +home to his father and mother's cottage. His mother, some +months before this time, had taken a small dairy farm; and +her son had once heard her express a wish that she was but +rich enough to purchase a remarkably fine brindled cow, which +belonged to a farmer in the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>'Here, my dear mother,' cried Francisco, pouring the +guineas into her lap; 'and here,' continued he, emptying a +bag, which contained about as much more, in small Italian +coins, the profits of trade-money he had fairly earned during +the two years he sold fruit amongst the little Neapolitan +merchants; 'this is all yours, dearest mother, and I hope it +will be enough to pay for the brindled cow. Nay, you must +not refuse me—I have set my heart upon the cow being milked +by you this very evening; and I'll produce my best bunches +of grapes, and my father, perhaps, will give us a melon, for +I've had no time for melons this season; and I'll step to Naples<span class="pagenum">[407]</span> +and invite—may I, mother?—my good friends, dear Carlo and +your favourite little Rosetta, and my old drawing master, and +my friend Arthur, and we'll sup with you at your dairy.'</p> + +<p>The happy mother thanked her son, and the father assured +him that neither melon nor pine-apple should be spared, to +make a supper worthy of his friends.</p> + +<p>The brindled cow was bought, and Arthur and Carlo and +Rosetta most joyfully accepted the invitation.</p> + +<p>The carpenter had unluckily appointed to settle a long account +that day with one of his employers, and he could not accompany +his children. It was a delicious evening; they left Naples just +as the sea-breeze, after the heats of the day, was most refreshingly +felt. The walk to Resina, the vineyard, the dairy, +and most of all, the brindled cow, were praised by Carlo and +Rosetta with all the Italian superlatives which signify, 'Most +beautiful! most delightful! most charming!' Whilst the +English Arthur, with as warm a heart, was more temperate in +his praise, declaring that this was 'the most like an English +summer's evening of any he had ever felt since he came to +Italy; and that, moreover, the cream was almost as good as +what he had been used to drink in Cheshire.' The company, +who were all pleased with each other, and with the gardener's +good fruit, which he produced in great abundance, did not +think of separating till late.</p> + +<p>It was a bright moonlight night, and Carlo asked his friend +if he would walk with them part of the way to Naples. 'Yes, +all the way most willingly,' cried Francisco, 'that I may have +the pleasure of giving to your father, with my own hands, this +fine bunch of grapes, that I have reserved for him out of my +own share.' 'Add this fine pine-apple for my share, then,' +said his father, 'and a pleasant walk to you, my young friends.'</p> + +<p>They proceeded gaily along, and when they reached Naples, +as they passed through the square where the little merchants +held their market, Francisco pointed to the spot where he found +Carlo's rule. He never missed an opportunity of showing his +friends that he did not forget their former kindness to him. +'That rule,' said he, 'has been the cause of all my present +happiness, and I thank you for——'</p> + +<p>'Oh, never mind thanking him now,' interrupted Rosetta, +'but look yonder, and tell me what all those people are +about.' She pointed to a group of men, women, and children,<span class="pagenum">[408]</span> +who were assembled under a piazza, listening in various attitudes +of attention to a man, who was standing upon a flight of +steps, speaking in a loud voice, and with much action, to the +people who surrounded him. Francisco, Carlo, and Rosetta +joined his audience. The moon shone full upon his countenance, +which was very expressive, and which varied frequently +according to the characters of the persons whose history he +was telling, and according to all the changes of their fortune. +This man was one of those who are called Improvisatori—persons +who, in Italian towns, go about reciting verses or +telling stories, which they are supposed to invent as they go +on speaking. Some of these people speak with great fluency, +and collect crowds round them in the public streets. When +an Improvisatore sees the attention of his audience fixed, and +when he comes to some very interesting part of his narrative, +he dexterously drops his hat upon the ground, and pauses till +his auditors have paid tribute to his eloquence. When he +thinks the hat sufficiently full, he takes it up again, and proceeds +with his story. The hat was dropped just as Francisco +and his two friends came under the piazza. The orator had +finished one story, and was going to commence another. He +fixed his eyes upon Francisco, then glanced at Carlo and +Rosetta, and after a moment's consideration he began a story +which bore some resemblance to one that our young English +readers may, perhaps, know by the name of 'Cornaro, or the +Grateful Turk.'</p> + +<p>Francisco was deeply interested in this narrative, and when +the hat was dropped, he eagerly threw in his contribution. +At the end of the story, when the speaker's voice stopped, +there was a momentary silence, which was broken by the +orator himself, who exclaimed, as he took up the hat which +lay at his feet, 'My friends, here is some mistake! this is not +my hat; it has been changed whilst I was taken up with my +story. Pray, gentlemen, find my hat amongst you; it was a +remarkably good one, a present from a nobleman for an +epigram I made. I would not lose my hat for twice its value. +It has my name written withinside of it, Dominicho, Improvisatore. +Pray, gentlemen, examine your hats.'</p> + +<p>Everybody present examined their hats, and showed them +to Dominicho, but his was not amongst them. No one had +left the company; the piazza was cleared, and searched in<span class="pagenum">[409]</span> +vain. 'The hat has vanished by magic.' said Dominicho. +'Yes, and by the same magic a statue moves,' cried Carlo, +pointing to a figure standing in a niche, which had hitherto +escaped observation. The face was so much in the shade, +that Carlo did not at first perceive that the statue was +Piedro. Piedro, when he saw himself discovered, burst into a +loud laugh, and throwing down Dominicho's hat, which he +held in his hand behind him, cried, 'A pretty set of novices! +Most excellent players at hide-and-seek you would make.'</p> + +<p>Whether Piedro really meant to have carried off the poor +man's hat, or whether he was, as he said, merely in jest, we +leave it to those who know his general character to decide.</p> + +<p>Carlo shook his head. 'Still at your old tricks, Piedro,' +said he. 'Remember the old proverb: No fox so cunning +but he comes to the furrier's at last.'<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">31</a></p> + +<p>'I defy the furrier and you too,' replied Piedro, taking up +his own ragged hat. 'I have no need to steal hats; I can +afford to buy better than you'll have upon your head. Francisco, +a word with you, if you have done crying at the pitiful +story you have been listening to so attentively.'</p> + +<p>'And what would you say to me?' said Francisco, following +him a few steps. 'Do not detain me long, because my +friends will wait for me.'</p> + +<p>'If they are friends, they can wait,' said Piedro. 'You +need not be ashamed of being seen in my company now, I +can tell you; for I am, as I always told you I should be, the +richest man of the two.'</p> + +<p>'Rich! you rich?' cried Francisco. 'Well, then, it was +impossible you could mean to trick that poor man out of his +good hat.'</p> + +<p>'Impossible!' said Piedro. Francisco did not consider +that those who have habits of pilfering continue to practise +them often, when the poverty which first tempted them to +dishonesty ceases. 'Impossible! You stare when I tell you +I am rich; but the thing is so. Moreover, I am well with my +father at home. I have friends in Naples, and I call myself +Piedro the Lucky. Look you here,' said he, producing an old +gold coin. 'This does not smell of fish, does it? My father +is no longer a fisherman, nor I either. Neither do I sell +sugar-plums to children; nor do I slave myself in a vineyard, +<span class="pagenum">[410]</span>like some folks; but fortune, when I least expected it, has +stood my friend. I have many pieces of gold like this. +Digging in my father's garden, it was my luck to come to an +old Roman vessel full of gold. I have this day agreed for a +house in Naples for my father. We shall live, whilst we can +afford it, like great folks, you will see; and I shall enjoy the +envy that will be felt by some of my old friends, the little +Neapolitan merchants, who will change their note when they +see my change of fortune. What say you to all this, Francisco +the Honest?'</p> + +<p>'That I wish you joy of your prosperity, and hope you may +enjoy it long and well.'</p> + +<p>'Well, no doubt of that. Every one who has it enjoys it +<i>well</i>. He always dances well to whom fortune pipes.'<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">32</a></p> + +<p>'Yes, no longer pipe, no longer dance,' replied Francisco; +and here they parted; for Piedro walked away abruptly, much +mortified to perceive that his prosperity did not excite much +envy, or command any additional respect from Francisco.</p> + +<p>'I would rather,' said Francisco, when he returned to Carlo +and Rosetta, who waited for him under the portico, when he +left them—'I would rather have such good friends as you, +Carlo and Arthur, and some more I could name, and, besides +that, have a clear conscience, and work honestly for my bread, +than be as lucky as Piedro. Do you know he has found a +treasure, he says, in his father's garden—a vase full of gold? +He showed me one of the gold pieces.'</p> + +<p>'Much good may they do him. I hope he came honestly +by them,' said Carlo; 'but ever since the affair of the double +measure, I suspect double-dealing always from him. It is +not our affair, however. Let him make himself happy his way, +and we ours.</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"><p class="noin"> +'He that would live in peace and rest,<br /> +Must hear, and see, and say the best.'<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">33</a><br /> +</p></div> + +<p>All Piedro's neighbours did not follow this peaceable maxim; +for when he and his father began to circulate the story of the +treasure found in the garden, the village of Resina did not give +them implicit faith. People nodded and whispered, and +shrugged their shoulders; then crossed themselves and +<span class="pagenum">[411]</span>declared that they would not, for all the riches of Naples, +change places with either Piedro or his father. Regardless, +or pretending to be regardless, of these suspicions, Piedro and +his father persisted in their assertions. The fishing-nets were +sold, and everything in their cottage was disposed of; they +left Resina, went to live at Naples, and, after a few weeks, the +matter began to be almost forgotten in the village.</p> + +<p>The old gardener, Francisco's father, was one of those who +endeavoured to <i>think the best</i>; and all that he said upon the +subject was, that he would not exchange Francisco the Honest +for Piedro the Lucky; that one can't judge of the day till one +sees the evening as well as the morning.<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">34</a></p> + +<p>Not to leave our readers longer in suspense, we must +inform them that the peasants of Resina were right in their +suspicions. Piedro had never found any treasure in his father's +garden, but he came by his gold in the following manner:—</p> + +<p>After he was banished from the little wood-market for +stealing Rosetta's basketful of wood, after he had cheated the +poor woman, who let glasses out to hire, out of the value of +the glasses which he broke, and, in short, after he had entirely +lost his credit with all who knew him, he roamed about the +streets of Naples, reckless of what became of him.</p> + +<p>He found the truth of the proverb, 'that credit lost is like a +Venice glass broken—it can't be mended again.' The few +shillings which he had in his pocket supplied him with food for +a few days. At last he was glad to be employed by one of the +peasants who came to Naples to load their asses with manure +out of the streets. They often follow very early in the morning, +or during the night-time, the trace of carriages that are gone, +or that are returning from the opera; and Piedro was one +night at this work, when the horses of a nobleman's carriage +took fright at the sudden blaze of some fireworks. The +carriage was overturned near him; a lady was taken out of it, +and was hurried by her attendants into a shop, where she +stayed till her carriage was set to rights. She was too much +alarmed for the first ten minutes after her accident to think of +anything; but after some time, she perceived that she had lost +a valuable diamond cross, which she had worn that night at +the opera. She was uncertain where she had dropped it; +<span class="pagenum">[412]</span>the shop, the carriage, the street were searched for it in +vain.</p> + +<p>Piedro saw it fall as the lady was lifted out of the carriage, +seized upon it, and carried it off. Ignorant as he was of the +full value of what he had stolen, he knew not how to satisfy +himself as to this point, without trusting some one with the +secret.</p> + +<p>After some hesitation, he determined to apply to a Jew, +who, as it was whispered, was ready to buy everything that +was offered to him for sale, without making any <i>troublesome</i> +inquiries. It was late; he waited till the streets were cleared, +and then knocked softly at the back door of the Jew's house. +The person who opened the door for Piedro was his own +father. Piedro started back; but his father had fast hold of him.</p> + +<p>'What brings you here?' said the father, in a low voice, a +voice which expressed fear and rage mixed.</p> + +<p>'Only to ask my way—my shortest way,' stammered +Piedro.</p> + +<p>'No equivocations! Tell me what brings you here at this +time of the night? I <i>will</i> know.'</p> + +<p>Piedro, who felt himself in his father's grasp, and who +knew that his father would certainly search him, to find out +what he had brought to sell, thought it most prudent to +produce the diamond cross. His father could but just see its +lustre by the light of a dim lamp which hung over their heads +in the gloomy passage in which they stood.</p> + +<p>'You would have been duped, if you had gone to sell this +to the Jew. It is well it has fallen into my hands. How +came you by it?' Piedro answered that he had found it in +the street. 'Go your ways home, then,' said the father; 'it +is safe with me. Concern yourself no more about it.'</p> + +<p>Piedro was not inclined thus to relinquish his booty, and +he now thought proper to vary in his account of the manner +in which he found the cross. He now confessed that it had +dropped from the dress of a lady, whose carriage was overturned +as she was coming home from the opera, and he +concluded by saying that, if his father took his prize from him +without giving him his share of the profits, he would go +directly to the shop where the lady stopped whilst her servants +were raising the carriage, and that he would give notice of his +having found the cross.</p> + +<p>Piedro's father saw that his <i>smart</i> son, though scarcely +sixteen years of age, was a match for him in villainy. He +promised him that he should have half of whatever the Jew +would give for the diamonds, and Piedro insisted upon being +present at the transaction.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[413]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i037f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i037t.jpg" alt="i037"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>The Jew, who was a man old in all the arts of villainy, contrived to cheat both +his associates.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>We do not wish to lay open to our young readers scenes of +iniquity. It is sufficient to say that the Jew, who was a man<span class="pagenum">[414]</span> +old in all the arts of villainy, contrived to cheat both his +associates, and obtained the diamond cross for less than half +its value. The matter was managed so that the transaction +remained undiscovered. The lady who lost the cross, after +making fruitless inquiries, gave up the search, and Piedro and +his father rejoiced in the success of their manœuvres.</p> + +<p>It is said that 'Ill-gotten wealth is quickly spent';<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">35</a> and +so it proved in this instance. Both father and son lived a +riotous life as long as their money lasted, and it did not last +many months. What his bad education began, bad company +finished, and Piedro's mind was completely ruined by the +associates with whom he became connected during what he +called his <i>prosperity</i>. When his money was at an end, these +unprincipled friends began to look cold upon him, and at last +plainly told him—'If you mean to <i>live with us</i>, you must <i>live +as we do</i>.' They lived by robbery.</p> + +<p>Piedro, though familiarised to the idea of fraud, was +shocked at the thought of becoming a robber by profession. +How difficult it is to stop in the career of vice! Whether +Piedro had power to stop, or whether he was hurried on by +his associates, we shall, for the present, leave in doubt.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER IV</h3> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">We</span> turn with pleasure from Piedro the Cunning to Francisco +the Honest. Francisco continued the happy and useful course +of his life. By his unremitting perseverance he improved +himself rapidly under the instructions of his master and friend, +Signor Camillo; his friend, we say, for the fair and open +character of Francisco won, or rather earned, the friendship of +this benevolent artist. The English gentleman seemed to take +a pride in our hero's success and good conduct. He was not +one of those patrons who think that they have done enough +when they have given five guineas. His servant Arthur +always considered every generous action of his master's as his +own, and was particularly pleased whenever this generosity +was directed towards Francisco.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[415]</span></p> +<p>As for Carlo and the little Rosetta, they were the companions +of all the pleasant walks which Francisco used to take +in the cool of the evening, after he had been shut up all day at +his work. And the old carpenter, delighted with the gratitude +of his pupil, frequently repeated—'That he was proud to have +given the first instructions to such a <i>genius</i>; and that he had +always prophesied Francisco would be a <i>great</i> man.' 'And a +good man, papa,' said Rosetta; 'for though he has grown so +great, and though he goes into palaces now, to say nothing +of that place underground, where he has leave to go, yet, +notwithstanding all this, he never forgets my brother Carlo +and you.'</p> + +<p>'That's the way to have good friends,' said the carpenter. +'And I like his way; he does more than he says. Facts are +masculine, and words are feminine.'<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">36</a></p> + +<p>These good friends seemed to make Francisco happier than +Piedro could be made by his stolen diamonds.</p> + +<p>One morning, Francisco was sent to finish a sketch of the +front of an ancient temple, amongst the ruins of Herculaneum. +He had just reached the pit, and the men were about to let +him down with cords, in the usual manner, when his attention +was caught by the shrill sound of a scolding woman's voice. +He looked, and saw at some paces distant this female fury, +who stood guarding the windlass of a well, to which, with +threatening gestures and most voluble menaces, she forbade +all access. The peasants—men, women, and children, who +had come with their pitchers to draw water at this well—were +held at bay by the enraged female. Not one dared to be the +first to advance; whilst she grasped with one hand the handle +of the windlass, and, with the other tanned muscular arm +extended, governed the populace, bidding them remember +that she was padrona, or mistress of the well. They retired, +in hopes of finding a more gentle padrona at some other well +in the neighbourhood; and the fury, when they were out of +sight, divided the long black hair which hung over her face, +and, turning to one of the spectators, appealed to them in a +sober voice, and asked if she was not right in what she had +done. 'I, that am padrona of the well,' said she, addressing +herself to Francisco, who, with great attention, was contemplating +her with the eye of a painter—'I, that am padrona +<span class="pagenum">[416]</span>of the well, must in times of scarcity do strict justice, and +preserve for ourselves alone the water of our well. There is +scarcely enough even for ourselves. I have been obliged to +make my husband lengthen the ropes every day for this week +past. If things go on at this rate, there will soon be not one +drop of water left in my well.'</p> + +<p>'Nor in any of the wells of the neighbourhood,' added one +of the workmen, who was standing by; and he mentioned +several in which the water had lately suddenly decreased; +and a miller affirmed that his mill had stopped for want of +water.</p> + +<p>Francisco was struck by these remarks. They brought to +his recollection similar facts, which he had often heard his +father mention in his childhood, as having been observed +previous to the last eruption of Mount Vesuvius.<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">37</a> He had +also heard from his father, in his childhood, that it is better to +trust to prudence than to fortune; and therefore, though the +peasants and workmen, to whom he mentioned his fears, +laughed, and said, 'That as the burning mountain had been +favourable to them for so many years, they would trust to it +and St. Januarius one day longer,' yet Francisco immediately +gave up all thoughts of spending this day amidst the ruins of +Herculaneum. After having inquired sufficiently, after having +seen several wells, in which the water had evidently decreased, +and after having seen the mill-wheels that were standing still +for want of their usual supply, he hastened home to his father +and mother, reported what he had heard and seen, and begged +of them to remove, and to take what things of value they +could to some distance from the dangerous spot where they +now resided.</p> + +<p>Some of the inhabitants of Resina, whom he questioned, +declared that they had heard strange rumbling noises underground; +and a peasant and his son, who had been at work +the preceding day in a vineyard, a little above the village, +related that they had seen a sudden puff of smoke come out of +the earth, close to them; and that they had, at the same time, +heard a noise like the going off of a pistol.<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">38</a></p> + +<p>The villagers listened with large eyes and open ears to +<span class="pagenum">[417]</span>these relations; yet such was their habitual attachment to the +spot they lived upon, or such the security in their own good +fortune, that few of them would believe that there could be +any necessity for removing. 'We'll see what will happen +to-morrow; we shall be safe here one day longer,' said +they.</p> + +<p>Francisco's father and mother, more prudent than the +generality of their neighbours, went to the house of a relation, +at some miles' distance from Vesuvius, and carried with them +all their effects.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Francisco went to the villa where his +English friends resided. The villa was in a most dangerous +situation, near Torre del Greco—a town that stands at the +foot of Mount Vesuvius. He related all the facts that he had +heard to Arthur, who, not having been, like the inhabitants of +Resina, familiarised to the idea of living in the vicinity of a +burning mountain and habituated to trust in St. Januarius, +was sufficiently alarmed by Francisco's representations. He +ran to his master's apartment, and communicated all that he +had just heard. The Count de Flora and his lady, who were +at this time in the house, ridiculed the fears of Arthur, and +could not be prevailed upon to remove even as far as Naples. +The lady was intent upon preparations for her birthday, +which was to be celebrated in a few days with great magnificence +at their villa; and she observed that it would be a pity to +return to town before that day, and they had everything +arranged for the festival. The prudent Englishman had not +the gallantry to appear to be convinced by these arguments, +and he left the place of danger. He left it not too soon, for +the next morning exhibited a scene—a scene which we shall +not attempt to describe.</p> + +<p>We refer our young readers to the account of this dreadful +eruption of Mount Vesuvius, published by Sir W. Hamilton in +the <i>Philosophical Transactions</i>. It is sufficient here to say +that, in the space of about five hours, the wretched inhabitants +of Torre del Greco saw their town utterly destroyed by the +streams of burning lava which poured from the mountain. +The villa of Count de Flora, with some others, which were at +a little distance from the town, escaped; but they were +absolutely surrounded by the lava. The count and countess +were obliged to fly from their house with the utmost precipitation<span class="pagenum">[418]</span> +in the night-time; and they had not time to remove +any of their furniture, their plate, clothes, or jewels.</p> + +<p>A few days after the eruption, the surface of the lava +became so cool that people could walk upon it, though several +feet beneath the surface it was still exceedingly hot. Numbers +of those who had been forced from their houses now returned +to the ruins to try to save whatever they could. But these +unfortunate persons frequently found their houses had been +pillaged by robbers, who, in these moments of general confusion, +enrich themselves with the spoils of their fellow-creatures.</p> + +<p>'Has the count abandoned his villa? and is there no one to +take care of his plate and furniture? The house will certainly +be ransacked before morning,' said the old carpenter to +Francisco, who was at his house giving him an account of +their flight. Francisco immediately went to the count's house +in Naples, to warn him of his danger. The first person he +saw was Arthur, who, with a face of terror, said to him, 'Do +you know what has happened? It is all over with Resina!' +'All over with Resina! What, has there been a fresh +eruption? Has the lava reached Resina?' 'No; but it will +inevitably be blown up. There,' said Arthur, pointing to a +thin figure of an Italian, who stood pale and trembling, and +looking up to heaven as he crossed himself repeatedly—'There,' +said Arthur, 'is a man who has left a parcel of his +cursed rockets and fireworks, with I don't know how much +gunpowder, in the count's house, from which we have just +fled. The wind blows that way. One spark of fire, and the +whole is blown up.'</p> + +<p>Francisco waited not to hear more; but instantly, without +explaining his intentions to any one, set out for the count's +villa, and, with a bucket of water in his hand, crossed the +beds of lava with which the house was encompassed; when, +reaching the hall where the rockets and gunpowder were left, +he plunged them into the water, and returned with them in +safety over the lava, yet warm under his feet.</p> + +<p>What was the surprise and joy of the poor firework-maker +when he saw Francisco return from this dangerous expedition! +He could scarcely believe his eyes, when he saw the rockets +and the gunpowder all safe.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[419]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i038f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i038t.jpg" alt="i038"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>Returned in safety over the lava, yet warm under his feet.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>The count, who had given up the hopes of saving his<span class="pagenum">[420]</span> +palace, was in admiration when he heard of this instance of +intrepidity, which probably saved not only his villa, but the +whole village of Resina, from destruction. These fireworks +had been prepared for the celebration of the countess's birthday, +and were forgotten in the hurry of the night on which the +inhabitants fled from Torre del Greco.</p> + +<p>'Brave young man!' said the count to Francisco, 'I thank +you, and shall not limit my gratitude to thanks. You tell me +that there is danger of my villa being pillaged by robbers. It +is from this moment your interest as well as mine to prevent +their depredations; for (trust to my liberality) a portion of all +that is saved of mine shall be yours.'</p> + +<p>'Bravo! bravissimo!' exclaimed one who started from a +recessed window in the hall where all this passed. 'Bravo! +bravissimo!' Francisco thought he knew the voice and the +countenance of this man, who exclaimed with so much enthusiasm. +He remembered to have seen him before, but +when, or where, he could not recollect. As soon as the count +left the hall, the stranger came up to Francisco. 'Is it +possible,' said he, 'that you don't know me? It is scarcely a +twelvemonth since I drew tears from your eyes.' 'Tears from +my eyes?' repeated Francisco, smiling; 'I have shed but few +tears. I have had but few misfortunes in my life.' The +stranger answered him by two extempore Italian lines, which +conveyed nearly the same idea that has been so well expressed +by an English poet:—</p> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"><p class="noin"> +To each their sufferings—all are men<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Condemn'd alike to groan;</span><br /> +The feeling for another's woes,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Th' unfeeling for his own.</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p>'I know you now perfectly well,' cried Francisco; 'you are +the Improvisatore who, one fine moonlight night last summer, +told us the story of Cornaro the Turk.'</p> + +<p>'The same,' said the Improvisatore; 'the same, though in +a better dress, which I should not have thought would have +made so much difference in your eyes, though it makes all the +difference between man and man in the eyes of the stupid +vulgar. My genius has broken through the clouds of misfortune +of late. A few happy impromptu verses I made on +the Count de Flora's fall from his horse attracted attention.<span class="pagenum">[421]</span> +The count patronises me. I am here now to learn the fate of +an ode I have just composed for his lady's birthday. My ode +was to have been set to music, and to have been performed at +his villa near Torre del Greco, if these troubles had not +intervened. Now that the mountain is quiet again, people +will return to their senses. I expect to be munificently +rewarded. But perhaps I detain you. Go; I shall not +forget to celebrate the heroic action you have performed this +day. I still amuse myself amongst the populace in my tattered +garb late in the evenings, and I shall sound your praises +through Naples in a poem I mean to recite on the late eruption +of Mount Vesuvius. Adieu.'</p> + +<p>The Improvisatore was as good as his word. That evening, +with more than his usual enthusiasm, he recited his verses to +a great crowd of people in one of the public squares. Amongst +the crowd were several to whom the name of Francisco was +well known, and by whom he was well beloved. These were +his young companions, who remembered him as a fruit-seller +amongst the little merchants. They rejoiced to hear his +praises, and repeated the lines with shouts of applause.</p> + +<p>'Let us pass. What is all this disturbance in the streets?' +said a man, pushing his way through the crowd. A lad who held +by his arm stopped suddenly on hearing the name of Francisco, +which the people were repeating with so much enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>'Ha! I have found at last a story that interests you more +than that of Cornaro the Turk,' cried the Improvisatore, +looking in the face of the youth who had stopped so suddenly. +'You are the young man who, last summer, had liked to have +tricked me out of my new hat. Promise me you won't touch +it now,' said he, throwing down the hat at his feet, 'or you +hear not one word I have to say. Not one word of the heroic +action performed at the villa of the Count de Flora, near +Torre del Greco, this morning, by Signor Francisco.'</p> + +<p>'<i>Signor</i> Francisco!' repeated the lad with disdain. 'Well, +let us hear what you have to tell of him,' added he. 'Your +hat is very safe, I promise you; I shall not touch it. What +of <i>Signor</i> Francisco?'</p> + +<p>'<i>Signor</i> Francisco I may, without impropriety, call him,' +said the Improvisatore, 'for he is likely to become rich enough +to command the title from those who might not otherwise +respect his merit.'<span class="pagenum">[422]</span></p> + +<p>'Likely to become rich! how?' said the lad, whom our +readers have probably before this time discovered to be +Piedro. 'How, pray, is he likely to become rich enough to +be a signor?'</p> + +<p>'The Count de Flora has promised him a liberal portion of +all the fine furniture, plate, and jewels that can be saved from +his villa at Torre del Greco. Francisco is gone down hither +now with some of the count's domestics to protect the valuable +goods against those villainous plunderers, who robbed their +fellow-creatures of what even the flames of Vesuvius would +spare.'</p> + +<p>'Come, we have had enough of this stuff,' cried the man +whose arm Piedro held. 'Come away,' and he hurried +forwards.</p> + +<p>This man was one of the villains against whom the honest +orator expressed such indignation. He was one of those with +whom Piedro got acquainted during the time that he was living +extravagantly upon the money he gained by the sale of the +stolen diamond cross. That robbery was not discovered; and +his <i>success</i>, as he called it, hardened him in guilt. He was +both unwilling and unable to withdraw himself from the bad +company with whom his ill-gotten wealth connected him. He +did not consider that bad company leads to the gallows.<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">39</a></p> + +<p>The universal confusion which followed the eruption of +Mount Vesuvius was to these villains a time of rejoicing. No +sooner did Piedro's companion hear of the rich furniture, plate, +etc., which the imprudent orator had described as belonging to +the Count de Flora's villa, than he longed to make himself +master of the whole.</p> + +<p>'It is a pity,' said Piedro, 'that the count has sent Francisco +with his servants down to guard it.' 'And who is this Francisco +of whom you seem to stand in so much awe?' 'A boy, +a young lad only, of about my own age; but I know him to be +sturdily honest. The servants we might corrupt; but even the +old proverb of "Angle with a silver hook,"<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">40</a> won't hold good with +him.'</p> + +<p>'And if he cannot be won by fair means, he must be +conquered by foul,' said the desperate villain; 'but if we offer +him rather more than the count has already promised for his +<span class="pagenum">[423]</span>share of the booty, of course he will consult at once his safety +and his interest.'</p> + +<p>'No,' said Piedro; 'that is not his nature. I know him +from a child, and we'd better think of some other house for +to-night's business.'</p> + +<p>'None other; none but this,' cried his companion, with an +oath. 'My mind is determined upon this, and you must obey +your leader: recollect the fate of him who failed me yesterday.'</p> + +<p>The person to whom he alluded was one of the gang of +robbers who had been assassinated by his companions for hesitating +to commit some crime suggested by their leader. No +tyranny is so dreadful as that which is exercised by villains over +their young accomplices, who become their slaves. Piedro, +who was of a cowardly nature, trembled at the threatening +countenance of his captain, and promised submission.</p> + +<p>In the course of the morning, inquiries were made secretly +amongst the count's servants; and the two men who were +engaged to sit up at the villa that night along with Francisco +were bribed to second the views of this gang of thieves. It +was agreed that about midnight the robbers should be let into +the house; that Francisco should be tied hand and foot, whilst +they carried off their booty. 'He is a stubborn chap, though +so young, I understand,' said the captain of the robbers to his +men; 'but we carry poniards, and know how to use them. +Piedro, you look pale. You don't require to be reminded of +what I said to you when we were alone just now?'</p> + +<p>Piedro's voice failed, and some of his comrades observed +that he was young and new to the business. The captain, +who, from being his pretended friend during his wealthy days, +had of late become his tyrant, cast a stern look at Piedro, and +bid him be sure to be at the old Jew's, which was the place of +meeting, in the dusk of the evening. After saying this he +departed.</p> + +<p>Piedro, when he was alone, tried to collect his thoughts—all +his thoughts were full of horror. 'Where am I?' said he +to himself; 'what am I about? Did I understand rightly +what he said about poniards? Francisco; oh, Francisco! +Excellent, kind, generous Francisco! Yes, I recollect your +look when you held the bunch of grapes to my lips, as I sat +by the sea-shore deserted by all the world; and now, what +friends have I? Robbers and——' The word <i>murderers</i> he<span class="pagenum">[424]</span> +could not utter. He again recollected what had been said +about poniards, and the longer his mind fixed upon the words, +and the look that accompanied them, the more he was shocked. +He could not doubt that it was the serious intention of his +accomplices to murder Francisco, if he should make any +resistance.</p> + +<p>Piedro had at this moment no friend in the world to whom +he could apply for advice or assistance. His wretched father +died some weeks before this time, in a fit of intoxication. +Piedro walked up and down the street, scarcely capable of +thinking, much less of coming to any rational resolution.</p> + +<p>The hours passed away, the shadows of the houses lengthened +under his footsteps, the evening came on, and when it grew +dusk, after hesitating in great agony of mind for some time, +his fear of the robbers' vengeance prevailed over every other +feeling, and he went at the appointed hour to the place of +meeting.</p> + +<p>The place of meeting was at the house of that Jew to whom +he, several months before, sold the diamond cross. That cross +which he thought himself so lucky to have stolen, and to have +disposed of undetected, was, in fact, the cause of his being in +his present dreadful situation. It was at the Jew's that he +connected himself with this gang of robbers, to whom he was +now become an absolute slave.</p> + +<p>'Oh that I dared to disobey!' said he to himself, with a +deep sigh, as he knocked softly at the back door of the Jew's +house. The back door opened into a narrow, unfrequented +street, and some small rooms at this side of the house were +set apart for the reception of guests who desired to have their +business kept secret. These rooms were separated by a dark +passage from the rest of the house, and numbers of people +came to the shop in the front of the house, which looked into +a creditable street, without knowing anything more, from the +ostensible appearance of the shop, than that it was a kind of +pawnbroker's, where old clothes, old iron, and all sorts of +refuse goods might be disposed of conveniently.</p> + +<p>At the moment Piedro knocked at the back door, the front +shop was full of customers; and the Jew's boy, whose office it +was to attend to these signals, let Piedro in, told him that +none of his comrades were yet come, and left him in a room +by himself.<span class="pagenum">[425]</span></p> + +<p>He was pale and trembling, and felt a cold dew spread over +him. He had a leaden image of Saint Januarius tied round his +neck, which, in the midst of his wickedness, he superstitiously +preserved as a sort of charm, and on this he kept his eyes +stupidly fixed, as he sat alone in this gloomy place.</p> + +<p>He listened from time to time, but he heard no noise at the +side of the house where he was. His accomplices did not +arrive, and, in a sort of impatient terror, the attendant upon +an evil conscience, he flung open the door of his cell, and +groped his way through the passage which he knew led to the +public shop. He longed to hear some noise, and to mix with +the living. The Jew, when Piedro entered the shop, was +bargaining with a poor, thin-looking man about some gunpowder.</p> + +<p>'I don't deny that it has been wet,' said the man, 'but +since it was in the bucket of water, it has been carefully dried. +I tell you the simple truth, that so soon after the grand eruption +of Mount Vesuvius, the people of Naples will not relish +fireworks. My poor little rockets, and even my Catherine-wheels, +will have no effect. I am glad to part with all I have +in this line of business. A few days ago I had fine things in +readiness for the Countess de Flora's birthday, which was to +have been celebrated at the count's villa.'</p> + +<p>'Why do you fix your eyes on me, friend? What is your +discourse to me?' said Piedro, who imagined that the man +fixed his eyes upon him as he mentioned the name of the +count's villa.</p> + +<p>'I did not know that I fixed my eyes upon you; I was +thinking of my fireworks,' said the poor man, simply. 'But +now that I do look at you and hear your voice, I recollect +having had the pleasure of seeing you before.'</p> + +<p>'When? where?' said Piedro.</p> + +<p>'A great while ago; no wonder you have forgotten me,' +said the man; 'but I can recall the night to your recollection. +You were in the street with me the night I let off that unlucky +rocket which frightened the horses, and was the cause of overturning +a lady's coach. Don't you remember the circumstance?'</p> + +<p>'I have a confused recollection of some such thing,' said +Piedro, in great embarrassment; and he looked suspiciously +at this man, in doubt whether he was cunning, and wanted to +sound him, or whether he was so simple as he appeared.<span class="pagenum">[426]</span></p> + +<p>'You did not, perhaps, hear, then,' continued the man +'that there was a great search made, after the overturn, for a +fine diamond cross belonging to the lady in the carriage? +That lady, though I did not know it till lately, was the Countess +de Flora.'</p> + +<p>'I know nothing of the matter,' interrupted Piedro, in great +agitation. His confusion was so marked that the firework-maker +could not avoid taking notice of it; and a silence of +some moments ensued. The Jew, more practised in dissimulation +than Piedro, endeavoured to turn the man's attention +back to his rockets and his gunpowder—agreed to take the +gunpowder—paid for it in haste, and was, though apparently +unconcerned, eager to get rid of him. But this was not so +easily done. The man's curiosity was excited, and his suspicions +of Piedro were increased every moment by all the dark +changes of his countenance. Piedro, overpowered with the +sense of guilt, surprised at the unexpected mention of the +diamond cross, and of the Count de Flora's villa, stood like +one convicted, and seemed fixed to the spot, without power of +motion.</p> + +<p>'I want to look at the old cambric that you said you had—that +would do for making—that you could let me have cheap +for artificial flowers,' said the firework-maker to the Jew; and +as he spoke, his eye from time to time looked towards Piedro.</p> + +<p>Piedro felt for the leaden image of the saint, which he wore +round his neck. The string which held it cracked, and broke +with the pull he gave it. This slight circumstance affected his +terrified and superstitious mind more than all the rest. He +imagined that at this moment his fate was decided; that Saint +Januarius deserted him, and that he was undone. He precipitately +followed the firework-man the instant he left the shop, +and seizing hold of his arm, whispered, 'I must speak to you.' +'Speak, then,' said the man, astonished. 'Not here; this +way,' said he, drawing him towards the dark passage; 'what +I have to say must not be overheard. You are going to the +Count de Flora's, are not you?' 'I am,' said the man. He +was going there to speak to the countess about some artificial +flowers; but Piedro thought he was going to speak to her +about the diamond cross. 'You are going to give information +against me? Nay, hear me, I confess that I purloined that +diamond cross; but I can do the count a great service, upon<span class="pagenum">[427]</span> +condition that he pardons me. His villa is to be attacked this +night by four well-armed men. They will set out five hours +hence. I am compelled, under the threat of assassination, to +accompany them; but I shall do no more. I throw myself +upon the count's mercy. Hasten to him—we have no time to +lose.'</p> + +<p>The poor man, who heard this confession, escaped from +Piedro the moment he loosed his arm. With all possible +expedition he ran to the count's palace in Naples, and related +to him all that had been said by Piedro. Some of the count's +servants, on whom he could most depend, were at a distant +part of the city attending their mistress, but the English +gentleman offered the services of his man Arthur. Arthur no +sooner heard the business, and understood that Francisco was +in danger, than he armed himself without saying one word, +saddled his English horse, and was ready to depart before any +one else had finished his exclamations and conjectures.</p> + +<p>'But we are not to set out yet,' said the servant; 'it is but +four miles to Torre del Greco; the sbirri (officers of justice) +are summoned—they are to go with us—we must wait for +them.'</p> + +<p>They waited, much against Arthur's inclination, a considerable +time for these sbirri. At length they set out, and just +as they reached the villa, the flash of a pistol was seen from +one of the apartments in the house. The robbers were there. +This pistol was snapped by their captain at poor Francisco, +who had bravely asserted that he would, as long as he had +life, defend the property committed to his care. The pistol +missed fire, for it was charged with some of the damaged +powder which the Jew had bought that evening from the firework-maker, +and which he had sold as excellent immediately +afterwards to his favourite customers—the robbers who met at +his house.</p> + +<p>Arthur, as soon as he perceived the flash of the piece, +pressed forward through all the apartments, followed by the +count's servants and the officers of justice. At the sudden +appearance of so many armed men, the robbers stood dismayed. +Arthur eagerly shook Francisco's hand, congratulating him +upon his safety, and did not perceive, till he had given him +several rough friendly shakes, that his arm was wounded, and +that he was pale with the loss of blood.<span class="pagenum">[428]</span></p> + +<p>'It is not much—only a slight wound,' said Francisco; +'one that I should have escaped if I had been upon my guard; +but the sight of a face that I little expected to see in such +company took from me all presence of mind; and one of the +ruffians stabbed me here in the arm, whilst I stood in stupid +astonishment.'</p> + +<p>'Oh! take me to prison! take me to prison—I am weary +of life—I am a wretch not fit to live!' cried Piedro, holding +his hands to be tied by the sbirri.</p> + +<p>The next morning Piedro was conveyed to prison; and as +he passed through the streets of Naples he was met by several +of those who had known him when he was a child. 'Ay,' +said they, as he went by, 'his father encouraged him in cheating +when he was <i>but a child</i>; and see what he is come to, now he +is a man!' He was ordered to remain twelve months in +solitary confinement. His captain and his accomplices were +sent to the galleys, and the Jew was banished from Naples.</p> + +<p>And now, having got these villains out of the way, let us +return to honest Francisco. His wound was soon healed. +Arthur was no bad surgeon, for he let his patient get well as +fast as he pleased; and Carlo and Rosetta nursed him with +so much kindness, that he was almost sorry to find himself +perfectly recovered.</p> + +<p>'Now that you are able to go out,' said Francisco's father +to him, 'you must come and look at my new house, my dear +son.' 'Your new house, father?' 'Yes, son, and a charming +one it is, and a handsome piece of land near it—all at a safe +distance, too, from Mount Vesuvius; and can you guess how I +came by it?—it was given to me for having a good son.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' cried Carlo; 'the inhabitants of Resina, and several +who had property near Torre del Greco, and whose houses and +lives were saved by your intrepidity in carrying the materials +for the fireworks and the gunpowder out of this dangerous +place, went in a body to the duke, and requested that he would +mention your name and these facts to the king, who, amongst +the grants he has made to the sufferers by the late eruption of +Mount Vesuvius, has been pleased to say that he gives this +house and garden to your father, because you have saved the +property and lives of many of his subjects.'</p> + +<p>The value of a handsome portion of furniture, plate, etc., in +the Count de Flora's villa, was, according to the count's promise,<span class="pagenum">[429]</span> +given to him; and this money he divided between his own +family and that of the good carpenter who first put a pencil +into his hands. Arthur would not accept of any present from +him. To Mr. Lee, the English gentleman, he offered one of +his own drawings—a fruit-piece. 'I like this very well,' said +Arthur, as he examined the drawing, 'but I should like this +melon better if it was a little bruised. It is now three years +ago since I was going to buy that bruised melon from you; +you showed me your honest nature then, though you were but +a boy; and I have found you the same ever since. A good +beginning makes a good ending—an honest boy will make an +honest man; and honesty is the best policy, as you have proved +to all who wanted the proof, I hope.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' added Francisco's father, 'I think it is pretty plain +that Piedro the Cunning has not managed quite so well as +Francisco the Honest.'</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[431]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="TARLTON" id="TARLTON"></a>TARLTON</h2> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"> +<p class="noin"> +Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,—<br /> +To teach the young idea how to shoot,—<br /> +To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind,—<br /> +To breathe th' enlivening spirit,—and to fix<br /> +The generous purpose in the glowing breast. +</p> +<p class="right smcap"> +Thomson. +</p> +</div> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">Young Hardy</span> was educated by Mr. Trueman, a very excellent +master, at one of our rural Sunday schools. He was honest, +obedient, active, and good-natured, hence he was esteemed by +his master; and being beloved by all his companions who were +good, he did not desire to be loved by the bad; nor was he at +all vexed or ashamed when idle, mischievous, or dishonest boys +attempted to plague or ridicule him. His friend Loveit, on +the contrary, wished to be universally liked, and his highest +ambition was to be thought the best-natured boy in the school—and +so he was. He usually went by the name of <i>Poor +Loveit</i>, and everybody pitied him when he got into disgrace, +which he frequently did, for, though he had a good disposition, +he was often led to do things which he knew to be wrong +merely because he could never have the courage to say '<i>No</i>,' +because he was afraid to offend the ill-natured, and could not +bear to be laughed at by fools.</p> + +<p>One fine autumn evening, all the boys were permitted to +go out to play in a pleasant green meadow near the school. +Loveit and another boy, called Tarlton, began to play a game +at battledore and shuttlecock, and a large party stood by to +look on, for they were the best players at battledore and shuttlecock +in the school, and this was a trial of skill between them. +When they had got it up to three hundred and twenty, the +game became very interesting. The arms of the combatants<span class="pagenum">[432]</span> +grew so tired that they could scarcely wield the battledores. +The shuttlecock began to waver in the air; now it almost +touched the ground, and now, to the astonishment of the +spectators, mounted again high over their heads; yet the +strokes became feebler and feebler; and 'Now, Loveit!' +'Now, Tarlton!' resounded on all sides. For another minute +the victory was doubtful; but at length the setting sun, shining +full in Loveit's face, so dazzled his eyes that he could no longer +see the shuttlecock, and it fell at his feet.</p> + +<p>After the first shout for Tarlton's triumph was over, everybody +exclaimed, 'Poor Loveit! he's the best-natured fellow in +the world! What a pity that he did not stand with his back +to the sun!'</p> + +<p>'Now, I dare you all to play another game with me,' cried +Tarlton, vauntingly; and as he spoke, he tossed the shuttlecock +up with all his force—with so much force that it went over the +hedge and dropped into a lane which went close beside the +field. 'Heyday!' said Tarlton, 'what shall we do now?'</p> + +<p>The boys were strictly forbidden to go into the lane; and it +was upon their promise not to break this command, that they +were allowed to play in the adjoining field.</p> + +<p>No other shuttlecock was to be had, and their play was +stopped. They stood on the top of the bank, peeping over +the hedge. 'I see it yonder,' said Tarlton; 'I wish somebody +would get it. One could get over the gate at the bottom of +the field, and be back again in half a minute,' added he, looking +at Loveit. 'But you know we must not go into the lane,' said +Loveit, hesitatingly. 'Pugh!' said Tarlton, 'why, now, what +harm could it do?' 'I don't know,' said Loveit, drumming +upon his battledore; 'but——' 'You don't know, man! why, +then, what are you afraid of, I ask you?' Loveit coloured, +went on drumming, and again, in a lower voice, said '<i>he didn't +know</i>.' But upon Tarlton's repeating, in a more insolent tone, +'I ask you, man, what you're afraid of?' he suddenly left off +drumming, and looking round, said, 'he was not afraid of +anything that he knew of.' 'Yes, but you are,' said Hardy, +coming forward. 'Am I?' said Loveit; 'of what, pray, am I +afraid?' 'Of doing wrong!' 'Afraid <i>of doing wrong</i>!' +repeated Tarlton, mimicking him, so that he made everybody +laugh. 'Now, hadn't you better say afraid of being flogged?' +'No,' said Hardy, coolly, after the laugh had somewhat subsided,<span class="pagenum">[433]</span> +'I am as little afraid of being flogged as you are, Tarlton; +but I meant——' 'No matter what you meant; why should +you interfere with your wisdom and your meanings; nobody +thought of asking <i>you</i> to stir a step for us; but we asked +Loveit, because he's the best fellow in the world.' 'And for +that very reason you should not ask him, because you know +he can't refuse you anything.' 'Indeed, though,' cried Loveit, +piqued, '<i>there</i> you're mistaken, for I could refuse if I chose it.'</p> + +<p>Hardy smiled; and Loveit, half afraid of his contempt, and +half afraid of Tarlton's ridicule, stood doubtful, and again had +recourse to his battledore, which he balanced most curiously +upon his forefinger. 'Look at him!—now do look at him!' +cried Tarlton; 'did you ever in your life see anybody look so +silly!—Hardy has him quite under his thumb; he's so mortally +afraid of Parson Prig, that he dare not, for the soul of him, +turn either of his eyes from the tip of his nose; look how he +squints!' 'I don't squint,' said Loveit, looking up, 'and +nobody has me under his thumb! and what Hardy said was +only for fear I should get in disgrace; he's the best friend I +have.'</p> + +<p>Loveit spoke this with more than usual spirit, for both his +heart and his pride were touched. 'Come along, then,' said +Hardy, taking him by the arm in an affectionate manner; and +he was just going, when Tarlton called after him, 'Ay, go along +with its best friend, and take care it does not get into a scrape;—good-bye, +Little Panado!' 'Whom do they call Little +Panado?' said Loveit, turning his head hastily back. 'Never +mind,' said Hardy, 'what does it signify?' 'No,' said Loveit, +'to be sure it does not signify; but one does not like to be +called Little Panado; besides,' added he, after going a few +steps farther, 'they'll all think it so ill-natured. I had better go +back, and just tell them that I'm very sorry I can't get their +shuttlecock;—do come back with me.' 'No,' said Hardy, 'I +can't go back; and you'd better not.' 'But, I assure you, I +won't stay a minute; wait for me,' added Loveit; and he slunk +back again to prove that he was not Little Panado.</p> + +<p>Once returned, the rest followed, of course; for to support +his character of good nature he was obliged to yield to the +entreaties of his companions, and, to show his spirit, leapt over +the gate, amidst the acclamations of the little mob:—he was +quickly out of sight.<span class="pagenum">[434]</span></p> + +<p>'Here,' cried he, returning in about five minutes, quite out +of breath, 'I've got the shuttlecock; and I'll tell you what I've +seen,' cried he, panting for breath. 'What?' cried everybody, +eagerly. 'Why, just at the turn of the corner, at the end of +the lane'—panting. 'Well,' said Tarlton, impatiently, 'do go +on.' 'Let me just take breath first.' 'Pugh—never mind +your breath.' 'Well, then, just at the turn of the corner, at +the end of the lane, as I was looking about for the shuttlecock, +I heard a great rustling somewhere near me, and so I looked +where it could come from; and I saw, in a nice little garden, +on the opposite side of the way, a boy, about as big as Tarlton, +sitting in a great tree, shaking the branches; so I called to the +boy, to beg one; but he said he could not give me one, for that +they were his grandfather's; and just at that minute, from +behind a gooseberry bush, up popped the uncle; the grandfather +poked his head out of the window; so I ran off as fast +as my legs would carry me, though I heard him bawling after +me all the way.'</p> + +<p>'And let him bawl,' cried Tarlton; 'he shan't bawl for +nothing; I'm determined we'll have some of his fine large rosy +apples before I sleep to-night.'</p> + +<p>At this speech a general silence ensued; everybody kept +his eyes fixed upon Tarlton, except Loveit, who looked down, +apprehensive that he should be drawn on much farther than he +intended. 'Oh, indeed!' said he to himself, 'as Hardy told +me, I had better not have come back!'</p> + +<p>Regardless of this confusion, Tarlton continued, 'But before +I say any more, I hope we have no spies amongst us. If there +is any one of you afraid to be flogged, let him march off this +instant!'</p> + +<p>Loveit coloured, bit his lips, wished to go, but had not the +courage to move first. He waited to see what everybody else +would do: nobody stirred; so Loveit stood still.</p> + +<p>'Well, then,' cried Tarlton, giving his hand to the boy next +him, then to the next, 'your word and honour that you won't +betray me; but stand by me, and I'll stand by you.' Each +boy gave his hand and his promise, repeating, 'Stand by me, +and I'll stand by you.'</p> + +<p>Loveit hung back till the last; and had almost twisted off the +button of the boy's coat who screened him, when Tarlton came +up, holding out his hand, 'Come, Loveit, lad, you're in for<span class="pagenum">[435]</span> +it: stand by me, and I'll stand by you.' 'Indeed, Tarlton,' +expostulated he, without looking him in the face, 'I do wish +you'd give up this scheme; I daresay all the apples are gone +by this time; I wish you would. Do, pray, give up this +scheme.' 'What scheme, man? you haven't heard it yet; you +may as well know your text before you begin preaching.'</p> + +<p>The corners of Loveit's mouth could not refuse to smile, +though in his heart he felt not the slightest inclination to +laugh.</p> + +<p>'Why, I don't know you, I declare I don't know you to-day,' +said Tarlton; 'you used to be the best-natured, most agreeable +lad in the world, and would do anything one asked you; but +you're quite altered of late, as we were saying just now, when +you skulked away with Hardy; come,—do, man, pluck up a +little spirit, and be one of us, or you'll make us all <i>hate you</i>.' +'<i>Hate</i> me!' repeated Loveit, with terror; 'no, surely, you +won't all <i>hate</i> me!' and he mechanically stretched out his hand, +which Tarlton shook violently, saying, '<i>Ay, now, that's right.</i>' +'<i>Ay, now, that's wrong!</i>' whispered Loveit's conscience; but +his conscience was of no use to him, for it was always overpowered +by the voice of numbers; and though he had the wish, +he never had the power, to do right. 'Poor Loveit! I knew +he would not refuse us,' cried his companions; and even +Tarlton, the moment he shook hands with him, despised him. +It is certain that weakness of mind is despised both by the good +and the bad.</p> + +<p>The league being thus formed, Tarlton assumed all the airs +of commander, explained his schemes, and laid the plan of +attack upon the poor old man's apple-tree. It was the only +one he had in the world. We shall not dwell upon their consultation; +for the amusement of contriving such expeditions is +often the chief thing which induces idle boys to engage in +them.</p> + +<p>There was a small window at the end of the back staircase, +through which, between nine and ten o'clock at night, Tarlton, +accompanied by Loveit and another boy, crept out. It was a +moonlight night, and after crossing the field, and climbing the +gate, directed by Loveit, who now resolved to go through the +affair with spirit, they proceeded down the lane with rash yet +fearful steps.</p> + +<p>At a distance Loveit saw the whitewashed cottage, and<span class="pagenum">[436]</span> +the apple-tree beside it. They quickened their pace, and with +some difficulty scrambled through the hedge which fenced the +garden, though not without being scratched and torn by the +briers. Everything was silent. Yet now and then, at every +rustling of the leaves, they started, and their hearts beat +violently. Once, as Loveit was climbing the apple-tree, he +thought he heard a door in the cottage open, and earnestly +begged his companions to desist and return home. This, +however, he could by no means persuade them to do, until +they had filled their pockets with apples; then, to his great +joy, they returned, crept in at the staircase window, and each +retired, as softly as possible, to his own apartment.</p> + +<p>Loveit slept in the room with Hardy, whom he had left fast +asleep, and whom he now was extremely afraid of awakening. +All the apples were emptied out of Loveit's pockets, and +lodged with Tarlton till the morning, for fear the smell should +betray the secret to Hardy. The room door was apt to creak, +but it was opened with such precaution that no noise could be +heard, and Loveit found his friend as fast asleep as when he +left him.</p> + +<p>'Ah,' said he to himself, 'how quietly he sleeps! I wish +I had been sleeping too.' The reproaches of Loveit's +conscience, however, served no other purpose but to torment +him; he had not sufficient strength of mind to be good. The +very next night, in spite of all his fears, and all his penitence, +and all his resolutions, by a little fresh ridicule and persuasion +he was induced to accompany the same party on a similar expedition. +We must observe that the necessity for continuing +their depredations became stronger the third day; for, though +at first only a small party had been in the secret, by degrees +it was divulged to the whole school; and it was necessary to +secure secrecy by sharing the booty.</p> + +<p>Every one was astonished that Hardy, with all his quickness +and penetration, had not yet discovered their proceedings; +but Loveit could not help suspecting that he was not quite so +ignorant as he appeared to be. Loveit had strictly kept his +promise of secrecy; but he was by no means an artful boy; +and in talking to his friend, conscious that he had something +to conceal, he was perpetually on the point of betraying himself; +then, recollecting his engagement, he blushed, stammered, +bungled; and upon Hardy's asking what he meant, would<span class="pagenum">[437]</span> +answer with a silly, guilty countenance that he did not know; +or abruptly break off, saying, 'Oh, nothing! nothing at all!'</p> + +<p>It was in vain that he urged Tarlton to permit him to +consult his friend. A gloom overspread Tarlton's brow when +he began to speak on the subject, and he always returned a +peremptory refusal, accompanied with some such taunting expression +as this—'I wish we had nothing to do with such a +sneaking fellow; he'll betray us all, I see, before we have +done with him.' 'Well,' said Loveit to himself, 'so I am +abused after all, and called a sneaking fellow for my pains; +that's rather hard, to be sure, when I've got so little by the +job.'</p> + +<p>In truth he had not got much; for in the division of the +booty only one apple, and half of another which was only half +ripe, happened to fall to his share; though, to be sure, when +they had all eaten their apples, he had the satisfaction to hear +everybody declare they were very sorry they had forgotten to +offer some of theirs to '<i>poor Loveit</i>.'</p> + +<p>In the meantime, the visits to the apple-tree had been now +too frequently repeated to remain concealed from the old man +who lived in the cottage. He used to examine his only tree +very frequently, and missing numbers of rosy apples, which he +had watched ripening, he, though not prone to suspicion, +began to think that there was something going wrong; +especially as a gap was made in his hedge, and there were +several small footsteps in his flower-beds.</p> + +<p>The good old man was not at all inclined to give pain to +any living creature, much less to children, of whom he was +particularly fond. Nor was he in the least avaricious, for +though he was not rich, he had enough to live upon, because +he had been very industrious in his youth; and he was always +very ready to part with the little he had. Nor was he a cross +old man. If anything would have made him angry, it would +have been the seeing his favourite tree robbed, as he had +promised himself the pleasure of giving his red apples to his +grandchildren on his birthday. However, he looked up at the +tree in sorrow rather than in anger, and leaning upon his staff, +he began to consider what he had best do.</p> + +<p>'If I complain to their master,' said he to himself, 'they +will certainly be flogged, and that I should be sorry for; yet +they must not be let to go on stealing; that would be worse<span class="pagenum">[438]</span> +still, for it would surely bring them to the gallows in the end. +Let me see—oh, ay, that will do; I will borrow farmer Kent's +dog Barker, he'll keep them off, I'll answer for it.'</p> + +<p>Farmer Kent lent his dog Barker, cautioning his neighbour, +at the same time, to be sure to chain him well, for he was the +fiercest mastiff in England. The old man, with farmer Kent's +assistance, chained him fast to the trunk of the apple-tree.</p> + +<p>Night came; and Tarlton, Loveit, and his companions +returned at the usual hour. Grown bolder now by frequent +success, they came on talking and laughing. But the moment +they had set their foot in the garden, the dog started up; and, +shaking his chain as he sprang forward, barked with unremitting +fury. They stood still as if fixed to the spot. There +was just moonlight enough to see the dog. 'Let us try the +other side of the tree,' said Tarlton. But to whichever side +they turned, the dog flew round in an instant, barking with +increased fury.</p> + +<p>'He'll break his chain and tear us to pieces,' cried Tarlton; +and, struck with terror, he immediately threw down the basket +he had brought with him, and betook himself to flight, with +the greatest precipitation. 'Help me! oh, pray, help me! I +can't get through the hedge,' cried Loveit, in a lamentable +tone, whilst the dog growled hideously, and sprang forward to +the extremity of his chain. 'I can't get out! Oh, for God's +sake, stay for me one minute, dear Tarlton!' He called in +vain; he was left to struggle through his difficulties by himself; +and of all his dear friends not one turned back to help +him. At last, torn and terrified, he got through the hedge +and ran home, despising his companions for their selfishness. +Nor could he help observing that Tarlton, with all his vaunted +prowess, was the first to run away from the appearance of +danger.</p> + +<p>The next morning Loveit could not help reproaching the +party with their conduct. 'Why could not you, any of you, +stay one minute to help me?' said he. 'We did not hear you +call,' answered one. 'I was so frightened,' said another, 'I +would not have turned back for the whole world.' 'And you, +Tarlton?' 'I,' said Tarlton; 'had not I enough to do to +take care of myself, you blockhead? Every one for himself in +this world!' 'So I see,' said Loveit, gravely. 'Well, man! +is there anything strange in that?' 'Strange! why, yes; I<span class="pagenum">[439]</span> +thought you all loved me!' 'Lord love you, lad! so we do; +but we love ourselves better.' 'Hardy would not have served +me so, however,' said Loveit, turning away in disgust. Tarlton +was alarmed. 'Pugh!' said he; 'what nonsense have you +taken into your brain? Think no more about it. We are all +very sorry, and beg your pardon; come, shake hands,—forgive +and forget.'</p> + +<p>Loveit gave his hand, but gave it rather coldly. 'I forgive +it with all my heart,' said he; 'but I cannot forget it so soon!' +'Why, then, you are not such a good-humoured fellow as we +thought you were. Surely you cannot bear malice, Loveit.' +Loveit smiled, and allowed that he certainly could not bear +malice. 'Well, then, come; you know at the bottom we all +love you, and would do anything in the world for you.' Poor +Loveit, flattered in his foible, began to believe that they did +love him at the bottom, as they said, and even with his eyes +open consented again to be duped.</p> + +<p>'How strange it is,' thought he, 'that I should set such +value upon the love of those I despise! When I'm once +out of this scrape, I'll have no more to do with them, I'm +determined.'</p> + +<p>Compared with his friend Hardy, his new associates did +indeed appear contemptible; for all this time Hardy had +treated him with uniform kindness, avoided to pry into his +secrets, yet seemed ready to receive his confidence, if it had +been offered.</p> + +<p>After school in the evening, as he was standing silently +beside Hardy, who was ruling a sheet of paper for him, Tarlton, +in his brutal manner, came up, and seizing him by the arm, +cried, 'Come along with me, Loveit, I've something to say to +you.' 'I can't come now,' said Loveit, drawing away his arm. +'Ah, do come now,' said Tarlton, in a voice of persuasion. +'Well, I'll come presently.' 'Nay, but do, pray; there's a +good fellow, come now, because I've something to say to you.' +'What is it you've got to say to me? I wish you'd let me +alone,' said Loveit; yet at the same time he suffered himself +to be led away.</p> + +<p>Tarlton took particular pains to humour him and bring him +into temper again; and even, though he was not very apt to +part with his playthings, went so far as to say, 'Loveit, the +other day you wanted a top; I'll give you mine if you desire<span class="pagenum">[440]</span> +it.' Loveit thanked him, and was overjoyed at the thoughts of +possessing this top. 'But what did you want to say to me just +now?' 'Ay, we'll talk of that presently; not yet—when we +get out of hearing.' 'Nobody is near us,' said Loveit. 'Come +a little farther, however,' said Tarlton, looking round suspiciously. +'Well now, well?' 'You know the dog that +frightened us so last night?' 'Yes.' 'It will never frighten +us again.' 'Won't it? how so?' 'Look here,' said Tarlton, +drawing something from his pocket wrapped in a blue handkerchief. +'What's that?' Tarlton opened it. 'Raw meat!' +exclaimed Loveit. 'How came you by it?' 'Tom, the +servant boy, Tom got it for me, and I'm to give him sixpence.' +'And is it for the dog?' 'Yes, I vowed I'd be revenged on +him, and after this he'll never bark again.' 'Never bark +again! What do you mean? Is it poison?' exclaimed +Loveit, starting back with horror. 'Only poison for <i>a dog</i>;' +said Tarlton, confused; 'you could not look more shocked if +it was poison for a Christian.'</p> + +<p>Loveit stood for nearly a minute in profound silence. +'Tarlton,' said he at last, in a changed tone and altered +manner, 'I did not know you; I will have no more to do with +you.' 'Nay, but stay,' said Tarlton, catching hold of his arm, +'stay; I was only joking.' 'Let go my arm—you were in +earnest.' 'But then that was before I knew there was any +harm. If you think there's any harm?' '<i>If</i>,' said Loveit. +'Why, you know, I might not know; for Tom told me it's a +thing that's often done. Ask Tom.' 'I'll ask nobody! Surely +we know better what's right and wrong than Tom does.' 'But +only just ask him, to hear what he'll say.' 'I don't want to +hear what he'll say,' cried Loveit, vehemently; 'the dog will +die in agonies—in agonies! There was a dog poisoned at my +father's—I saw him in the yard. Poor creature! He lay +and howled and writhed himself!' 'Poor creature! Well, +there's no harm done now,' cried Tarlton, in a hypocritical +tone. But though he thought fit to dissemble with Loveit, he +was thoroughly determined in his purpose.</p> + +<p>Poor Loveit, in haste to get away, returned to his friend +Hardy; but his mind was in such agitation, that he neither +talked nor moved like himself; and two or three times his +heart was so full that he was ready to burst into +tears.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[441]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i039f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i039t.jpg" alt="i039"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>'Is it poison?' exclaimed Loveit, starting back with horror.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>'How good-natured you are to me,' said he to Hardy, as he<span class="pagenum">[442]</span> +was trying vainly to entertain him; 'but if you knew——' +Here he stopped short, for the bell for evening prayer rang, +and they all took their places and knelt down. After prayers, +as they were going to bed, Loveit stopped Tarlton,—'<i>Well?</i>' +asked he, in an inquiring manner, fixing his eyes upon him. +'<i>Well?</i>' replied Tarlton, in an audacious tone, as if he meant +to set his inquiring eye at defiance. 'What do you mean to +do to-night?' 'To go to sleep, as you do, I suppose,' replied +Tarlton, turning away abruptly, and whistling as he walked off.</p> + +<p>'Oh, he has certainly changed his mind!' said Loveit to +himself, 'else he could not whistle.'</p> + +<p>About ten minutes after this, as he and Hardy were undressing, +Hardy suddenly recollected that he had left his new kite out +upon the grass. 'Oh,' said he, 'it will be quite spoiled before +morning!' 'Call Tom,' said Loveit, 'and bid him bring it in +for you in a minute.' They both went to the top of the stairs to +call Tom; no one answered. They called again louder, 'Is +Tom below?' 'I'm here,' answered he at last, coming out of +Tarlton's room with a look of mixed embarrassment and effrontery. +And as he was receiving Hardy's commission, Loveit saw +the corner of the blue handkerchief hanging out of his pocket. +This excited fresh suspicions in Loveit's mind; but, without +saying one word, he immediately stationed himself at the +window in his room, which looked out towards the lane; and, +as the moon was risen, he could see if any one passed that +way. 'What are you doing there?' said Hardy, after he had +been watching some time; 'why don't you come to bed?' +Loveit returned no answer, but continued standing at the +window. Nor did he watch long in vain. Presently he saw +Tom gliding slowly along a bypath, and get over the gate into +the lane.</p> + +<p>'He's gone to do it!' exclaimed Loveit aloud, with an emotion +which he could not command. 'Who's gone? to do what?' +cried Hardy, starting up. 'How cruel! how wicked!' continued +Loveit. 'What's cruel—what's wicked? speak out at +once!' returned Hardy, in that commanding tone which, in +moments of danger, strong minds feel themselves entitled to +assume towards weak ones. Loveit instantly, though in an incoherent +manner, explained the affair to him. Scarcely had the +words passed his lips, when Hardy sprang up and began dressing +himself without saying one syllable. 'For God's sake,<span class="pagenum">[443]</span> +what are you going to do?' said Loveit in great anxiety. +'They'll never forgive me! don't betray me! they'll never forgive! +pray, speak to me! only say you won't betray us.' 'I +will not betray you, trust to me,' said Hardy; and he left the +room, and Loveit stood in amazement; whilst, in the meantime, +Hardy, in hopes of overtaking Tom before the fate of the poor +dog was decided, ran with all possible speed across the meadow, +and then down the lane. He came up with Tom just as he +was climbing the bank into the old man's garden. Hardy, +too much out of breath to speak, seized hold of him, dragged +him down, detaining him with a firm grasp, whilst he panted +for utterance. 'What, Master Hardy, is it you? what's the +matter? what do you want?' 'I want the poisoned meat that +you have in your pocket.' 'Who told you that I had any such +thing?' said Tom, clapping his hand upon his guilty pocket. +'Give it me quietly, and I'll let you off.' 'Sir, upon my word, +I haven't! I didn't! I don't know what you mean,' said Tom, +trembling, though he was by far the stronger of the two. +'Indeed, I don't know what you mean.' 'You do,' said Hardy, +with great indignation, and a violent struggle immediately +commenced.</p> + +<p>The dog, now alarmed by the voices, began to bark outrageously. +Tom was terrified lest the old man should come out to +see what was the matter; his strength forsook him, and flinging +the handkerchief and meat over the hedge, he ran away +with all his speed. The handkerchief fell within reach of the +dog, who instantly snapped at it; luckily it did not come +untied. Hardy saw a pitchfork on a dunghill close beside +him, and, seizing upon it, stuck it into the handkerchief. The +dog pulled, tore, growled, grappled, yelled; it was impossible +to get the handkerchief from between his teeth; but the knot +was loosed, the meat, unperceived by the dog, dropped out, +and while he dragged off the handkerchief in triumph, Hardy, +with inexpressible joy, plunged the pitchfork into the poisoned +meat and bore it away.</p> + +<p>Never did hero retire with more satisfaction from a field of +battle. Full of the pleasure of successful benevolence, Hardy +tripped joyfully home, and vaulted over the window-sill, when +the first object he beheld was Mr. Power, the usher, standing +at the head of the stairs, with his candle in his hand.</p> + +<p>'Come up, whoever you are,' said Mr. William Power, in a<span class="pagenum">[444]</span> +stern voice; 'I thought I should find you out at last. Come +up, whoever you are!' Hardy obeyed without reply.—'Hardy!' +exclaimed Mr. Power, starting back with astonishment; +'is it you, Mr. Hardy?' repeated he, holding the light +to his face. 'Why, sir,' said he, in a sneering tone, 'I'm sure +if Mr. Trueman was here he wouldn't believe his own eyes; +but for my part I saw through you long since; I never liked +saints, for my share. Will you please do me the favour, sir, +if it is not too much trouble, to empty your pockets?' Hardy +obeyed in silence. 'Heyday! meat! raw meat! what next?' +'That's all,' said Hardy, emptying his pockets inside out. +'This is <i>all</i>,' said Mr. Power, taking up the meat. 'Pray, sir,' +said Hardy, eagerly, 'let that meat be burned; it is poisoned.' +'Poisoned!' cried Mr. William Power, letting it drop out of +his fingers; 'you wretch!' looking at him with a menacing +air, 'what is all this? Speak.' Hardy was silent. 'Why +don't you speak?' cried he, shaking him by the shoulder +impatiently. Still Hardy was silent. 'Down upon your knees +this minute and confess all; tell me where you've been, what +you've been doing, and who are your accomplices, for I know +there is a gang of you; so,' added he, pressing heavily upon +Hardy's shoulder, 'down upon your knees this minute, and +confess the whole, that's your only way now to get off yourself. +If you hope for <i>my</i> pardon, I can tell you it's not to be had +without asking for.'</p> + +<p>'Sir,' said Hardy, in a firm but respectful voice, 'I have no +pardon to ask, I have nothing to confess; I am innocent; but +if I were not, I would never try to get off myself by betraying +my companions.' 'Very well, sir! very well! very fine! stick +to it, stick to it, I advise you, and we shall see. And how will +you look to-morrow, Mr. Innocent, when my uncle, the doctor, +comes home?' 'As I do now, sir,' said Hardy, unmoved.</p> + +<p>His composure threw Mr. Power into a rage too great for +utterance. 'Sir,' continued Hardy, 'ever since I have been +at school, I never told a lie, and therefore, sir, I hope you will +believe me now. Upon my word and honour, sir, I have done +nothing wrong.' 'Nothing wrong? Better and better! what, +when I caught you going out at night?' '<i>That</i>, to be sure, +was wrong,' said Hardy, recollecting himself; 'but except +that——' 'Except that, sir! I will except nothing. Come +along with me, young gentleman, your time for pardon is past.'<span class="pagenum">[445]</span></p> + +<p>Saying these words, he pulled Hardy along a narrow +passage to a small closet, set apart for desperate offenders, and +usually known by the name of the <i>Black Hole</i>. 'There, sir, +take up your lodging there for to-night,' said he, pushing him +in; 'to-morrow I'll know more, or I'll know why,' added he, +double-locking the door, with a tremendous noise, upon his +prisoner, and locking also the door at the end of the passage, +so that no one could have access to him. 'So now I think I +have you safe!' said Mr. William Power to himself, stalking +off with steps which made the whole gallery resound, and +which made many a guilty heart tremble.</p> + +<p>The conversation which had passed between Hardy and Mr. +Power at the head of the stairs had been anxiously listened to; +but only a word or two here and there had been distinctly +overheard.</p> + +<p>The locking of the Black Hole door was a terrible sound—some +knew not what it portended, and others knew <i>too well</i>. +All assembled in the morning with faces of anxiety. Tarlton's +and Loveit's were the most agitated: Tarlton for himself, +Loveit for his friend, for himself, for everybody. Every one of +the party, and Tarlton at their head, surrounded him with +reproaches; and considered him as the author of the evils +which hung over them. 'How could you do so? and why did +you say anything to Hardy about it? when you had promised, +too! Oh! what shall we all do? what a scrape you have +brought us into! Loveit, it's all your fault!' '<i>All my fault!</i>' +repeated poor Loveit, with a sigh; 'well, that is hard.'</p> + +<p>'Goodness! there's the bell,' exclaimed a number of voices +at once. 'Now for it!' They all stood in a half-circle for +morning prayers. They listened—'Here he is coming! No—Yes—Here +he is!' And Mr. William Power, with a gloomy +brow, appeared and walked up to his place at the head of the +room. They knelt down to prayers, and the moment they +rose, Mr. William Power, laying his hand upon the table, +cried, 'Stand still, gentlemen, if you please.' Everybody +stood stock still; he walked out of the circle; they guessed +that he was gone for Hardy, and the whole room was in +commotion. Each with eagerness asked each what none could +answer, '<i>Has he told?</i>' '<i>What</i> has he told?' 'Who has +he told of?' 'I hope he has not told of me,' cried they. 'I'll +answer for it he has told of all of us,' said Tarlton. 'And I'll<span class="pagenum">[446]</span> +answer for it he has told of none of us,' answered Loveit, with +a sigh. 'You don't think he's such a fool, when he can get +himself off,' said Tarlton.</p> + +<p>At this instant the prisoner was led in, and as he passed +through the circle, every eye was fixed upon him. His eye +fell upon no one, not even upon Loveit, who pulled him by the +coat as he passed—every one felt almost afraid to breathe. +'Well, sir,' said Mr. Power, sitting down in Mr. Trueman's +elbow-chair, and placing the prisoner opposite to him; 'well, +sir, what have you to say to me this morning?' 'Nothing, +sir,' answered Hardy, in a decided, yet modest manner; +'nothing but what I said last night.' 'Nothing more?' +'Nothing more, sir.' 'But I have something more to say to +you, sir, then; and a great deal more, I promise you, before +I have done with you;' and then, seizing him in a fury, he +was just going to give him a severe flogging, when the schoolroom +door opened, and Mr. Trueman appeared, followed by +an old man whom Loveit immediately knew. He leaned upon +his stick as he walked, and in his other hand carried a basket +of apples. When they came within the circle, Mr. Trueman +stopped short 'Hardy!' exclaimed he, with a voice of unfeigned +surprise, whilst Mr. William Power stood with his +hand suspended. 'Ay, Hardy, sir,' repeated he. 'I told him +you'd not believe your own eyes.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Trueman advanced with a slow step. 'Now, sir, give +me leave,' said the usher, eagerly drawing him aside and +whispering.</p> + +<p>'So, sir,' said Mr. T. when the whisper was done, addressing +himself to Hardy, with a voice and manner which, had he +been guilty, must have pierced him to the heart, 'I find I have +been deceived in you; it is but three hours ago that I told +your uncle I never had a boy in my school in whom I placed +so much confidence; but, after all this show of honour and +integrity, the moment my back is turned, you are the first to +set an example of disobedience of my orders. Why do I talk +of disobeying my commands,—you are a thief!' 'I, sir?' +exclaimed Hardy, no longer able to repress his feelings. 'You, +sir,—you and some others,' said Mr. Trueman, looking round +the room with a penetrating glance—'you and some others,' +'Ay, sir,' interrupted Mr. William Power, 'get that out of him +if you can—ask him.' 'I will ask him nothing; I shall neither<span class="pagenum">[447]</span> +put his truth nor his honour to the trial; truth and honour are +not to be expected amongst thieves.' 'I am not a thief! I +have never had anything to do with thieves,' cried Hardy, +indignantly. 'Have you not robbed this old man? Don't you +know the taste of these apples?' said Mr. Trueman, taking +one out of the basket. 'No, sir; I do not. I never touched +one of that old man's apples.' 'Never touched one of them! +I suppose this is some vile equivocation; you have done worse, +you have had the barbarity, the baseness, to attempt to poison +his dog; the poisoned meat was found in your pocket last +night.' 'The poisoned meat was found in my pocket, sir; +but I never intended to poison the dog—I saved his life.' +'Lord bless him!' said the old man. 'Nonsense—cunning!' +said Mr. Power. 'I hope you won't let him impose upon +you, sir.' 'No, he cannot impose upon me; I have a proof +he is little prepared for,' said Mr. Trueman, producing the blue +handkerchief in which the meat had been wrapped.</p> + +<p>Tarlton turned pale; Hardy's countenance never changed. +'Don't you know this handkerchief, sir?' 'I do, sir.' 'Is it +not yours?' 'No, sir.' 'Don't you know whose it is?' cried +Mr. Power. Hardy was silent.</p> + +<p>'Now, gentlemen,' said Mr. Trueman, 'I am not fond of +punishing you; but when I do it, you know, it is always in +earnest. I will begin with the eldest of you; I will begin +with Hardy, and flog you with my own hands till this handkerchief +is owned.' 'I'm sure it's not mine,' and 'I'm sure it's +none of mine,' burst from every mouth, whilst they looked at +each other in dismay; for none but Hardy, Loveit, and Tarlton +knew the secret. 'My cane,' said Mr. Trueman, and Mr. +Power handed him the cane. Loveit groaned from the bottom +of his heart. Tarlton leaned back against the wall with a +black countenance. Hardy looked with a steady eye at the cane.</p> + +<p>'But first,' said Mr. Trueman, laying down the cane, 'let us +see. Perhaps we may find out the owner of this handkerchief +another way,' examining the corners. It was torn almost to +pieces; but luckily the corner that was marked +remained.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[448]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i040f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i040t.jpg" alt="i040"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>'May God bless you!'</i></p> +</div> + +<p>'J. T.!' cried Mr. Trueman. Every eye turned upon the +guilty Tarlton, who, now as pale as ashes and trembling in +every limb, sank down upon his knees, and in a whining voice +begged for mercy. 'Upon my word and honour, sir, I'll tell +you all; I should never have thought of stealing the apples if +Loveit had not first told me of them; and it was Tom who +first put the poisoning the dog into my head. It was he that +carried the meat; <i>wasn't it</i>?' said he, appealing to Hardy, +whose word he knew must be believed. 'Oh, dear sir!' continued +he as Mr. Trueman began to move towards him, 'do let +me off; do pray let me off this time! I'm not the only one, +indeed, sir! I hope you won't make me an example for the +rest. It's very hard I'm to be flogged more than they!' 'I'm +not going to flog you.' 'Thank you, sir,' said Tarlton, getting<span class="pagenum">[449]</span> +up and wiping his eyes. 'You need not thank me,' said Mr. +Trueman. 'Take your handkerchief—go out of this room—out +of this house; let me never see you more.'</p> + +<p>'If I had any hopes of him,' said Mr. Trueman, as he shut +the door after him—'if I had any hopes of him, I would have +punished him; but I have none. Punishment is meant only +to make people better; and those who have any hopes of +themselves will know how to submit to it.'</p> + +<p>At these words Loveit first, and immediately all the rest of +the guilty party, stepped out of the ranks, confessed their fault +and declared themselves ready to bear any punishment their +master thought proper.</p> + +<p>'Oh, they have been punished enough,' said the old man; +'forgive them, sir.'</p> + +<p>Hardy looked as if he wished to speak. 'Not because you +ask it,' said Mr. Trueman to the guilty penitents, 'though I +should be glad to oblige you—it wouldn't be just; but there,' +pointing to Hardy, 'there is one who has merited a reward; +the highest I can give him is that of pardoning his companions.'</p> + +<p>Hardy bowed and his face glowed with pleasure, whilst +everybody present sympathised in his feelings.</p> + +<p>'I am sure,' thought Loveit, 'this is a lesson I shall never +forget.'</p> + +<p>'Gentlemen,' said the old man, with a faltering voice, 'it +wasn't for the sake of my apples that I spoke; and you, sir,' +said he to Hardy, 'I thank you for saving my dog. If you +please, I'll plant on that mount, opposite the window, a young +apple-tree, from my old one. I will water it, and take care of +it with my own hands for your sake, as long as I am able. +And may God bless you!' laying his trembling hand on +Hardy's head; 'may God bless you—I'm sure God <i>will</i> bless +all such boys as you are.'</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[451]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="THE_BASKET-WOMAN" id="THE_BASKET-WOMAN"></a>THE BASKET-WOMAN.</h2> + +<div class="inset" style="width: 32em"> +<p class="noin"> +Toute leur étude était de se complaire et de s'entr'aider. +<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a> +<a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">41</a> +</p> +<p class="right smcap"> +Paul et Virginie. +</p> +</div> + +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">At</span> the foot of a steep, slippery, white hill, near Dunstable, in +Bedfordshire, called Chalk Hill, there is a hut, or rather a +hovel, which travellers could scarcely suppose could be inhabited, +if they did not see the smoke rising from its peaked +roof. An old woman lives in this hovel,<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">42</a> and with her a little +boy and girl, the children of a beggar who died and left these +orphans perishing with hunger. They thought themselves very +happy when the good old woman first took them into her hut +and bid them warm themselves at her small fire, and gave them +a crust of mouldy bread to eat. She had not much to give, +but what she had she gave with good-will. She was very kind +to these poor children, and worked hard at her spinning-wheel +and at her knitting, to support herself and them. She earned +money also in another way. She used to follow all the +carriages as they went up Chalk Hill, and when the horses +stopped to take breath or to rest themselves, she put stones +behind the carriage wheels to prevent them from rolling backwards +down the steep, slippery hill.</p> + +<p>The little boy and girl loved to stand beside the good-natured +old woman's spinning-wheel when she was spinning, +and to talk to her. At these times she taught them something +which, she said, she hoped they would remember all their lives. +She explained to them what is meant by telling the truth, and +what it is to be honest. She taught them to dislike idleness, +and to wish that they could be useful.</p> + +<p>One evening, as they were standing beside her, the little +<span class="pagenum">[452]</span>boy said to her, 'Grandmother,' for that was the name by +which she liked that these children should call her—'grandmother, +how often you are forced to get up from your spinning-wheel, +and to follow the chaises and coaches up that steep hill, +to put stones underneath the wheels, to hinder them from +rolling back! The people who are in the carriages give you a +halfpenny or a penny for doing this, don't they?' 'Yes, child.' +'But it is very hard work for you to go up and down that hill. +You often say that you are tired, and then you know that you +cannot spin all that time. Now if we might go up the hill, and +put the stones behind the wheels, you could sit still at your +work, and would not the people give us the halfpence? and +could not we bring them all to you? Do, pray, dear grandmother, +try us for one day—to-morrow, will you?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said the old woman; 'I will try what you can do; +but I must go up the hill along with you for the first two or +three times, for fear you should get yourselves hurt.'</p> + +<p>So, the next day, the little boy and girl went with their +grandmother, as they used to call her, up the steep hill; and +she showed the boy how to prevent the wheels from rolling +back, by putting stones behind them; and she said, 'This is +called scotching the wheels'; and she took off the boy's hat and +gave it to the little girl, to hold up to the carriage-windows, +ready for the halfpence.</p> + +<p>When she thought that the children knew how to manage +by themselves, she left them, and returned to her spinning-wheel. +A great many carriages happened to go by this day, +and the little girl received a great many halfpence. She carried +them all in her brother's hat to her grandmother in the evening; +and the old woman smiled, and thanked the children. She +said that they had been useful to her, and that her spinning +had gone on finely, because she had been able to sit still at her +wheel all day. 'But, Paul, my boy,' said she, 'what is the +matter with your hand?'</p> + +<p>'Only a pinch—only one pinch that I got, as I was putting a +stone behind a wheel of a chaise. It does not hurt me much, +grandmother; and I've thought of a good thing for to-morrow. +I shall never be hurt again, if you will only be so good as to +give me the old handle of the broken crutch, grandmother, and +the block of wood that lies in the chimney-corner, and that is +of no use. I'll make it of some use, if I may have it.'<span class="pagenum">[453]</span></p> + +<p>'Take it then, dear,' said the old woman; 'and you'll find +the handle of the broken crutch under my bed.'</p> + +<p>Paul went to work immediately, and fastened one end of the +pole into the block of wood, so as to make something like a +dry-rubbing brush. 'Look, grandmamma, look at my <i>scotcher</i>. +I call this thing my <i>scotcher</i>,' said Paul, 'because I shall always +scotch the wheels with it. I shall never pinch my fingers +again; my hands, you see, will be safe at the end of this long +stick; and, sister Anne, you need not be at the trouble of +carrying any more stones after me up the hill; we shall never +want stones any more. My scotcher will do without anything +else, I hope. I wish it was morning, and that a carriage would +come, that I might run up the hill and try my scotcher.'</p> + +<p>'And I wish that as many chaises may go by to-morrow as +there did to-day, and that we may bring you as many halfpence, +too, grandmother,' said the little girl.</p> + +<p>'So do I, my dear Anne,' said the old woman; 'for I mean +that you and your brother shall have all the money that you +get to-morrow. You may buy some gingerbread for yourselves, +or some of those ripe plums that you saw at the fruit-stall, the +other day, which is just going into Dunstable. I told you then +that I could not afford to buy such things for you; but now +that you can earn halfpence for yourselves, children, it is fair +you should taste a ripe plum and bit of gingerbread for once +and a way in your lives.'</p> + +<p>'We'll bring some of the gingerbread home to her, shan't +we, brother?' whispered little Anne. The morning came; but +no carriages were heard, though Paul and his sister had risen +at five o'clock, that they might be sure to be ready for early +travellers. Paul kept his scotcher poised upon his shoulder, +and watched eagerly at his station at the bottom of the hill. +He did not wait long before a carriage came. He followed it +up the hill; and the instant the postillion called to him, and +bid him stop the wheels, he put his scotcher behind them, and +found that it answered the purpose perfectly well.</p> + +<p>Many carriages went by this day, and Paul and Anne +received a great many halfpence from the travellers.</p> + +<p>When it grew dusk in the evening, Anne said to her brother—'I +don't think any more carriages will come by to-day. Let +us count the halfpence, and carry them home now to grandmother.'<span class="pagenum">[454]</span></p> + +<p>'No, not yet,' answered Paul, 'let them alone—let them +lie still in the hole where I have put them. I daresay more +carriages will come by before it is quite dark, and then we shall +have more halfpence.'</p> + +<p>Paul had taken the halfpence out of his hat, and he had put +them into a hole in the high bank by the roadside; and Anne +said she would not meddle with them, and that she would wait +till her brother liked to count them; and Paul said—'If you +will stay and watch here, I will go and gather some blackberries +for you in the hedge in yonder field. Stand you hereabouts, +half-way up the hill, and the moment you see any carriage +coming along the road, run as fast as you can and call me.'</p> + +<p>Anne waited a long time, or what she thought a long time; +and she saw no carriage, and she trailed her brother's scotcher +up and down till she was tired. Then she stood still, and +looked again, and she saw no carriage; so she went sorrowfully +into the field, and to the hedge where her brother was gathering +blackberries, and she said, 'Paul, I'm sadly tired, <i>sadly +tired</i>!' said she, 'and my eyes are quite strained with looking +for chaises; no more chaises will come to-night; and your +scotcher is lying there, of no use, upon the ground. Have not +I waited long enough for to-day, Paul?' 'Oh no,' said Paul; +'here are some blackberries for you; you had better wait a +little bit longer. Perhaps a carriage might go by whilst you +are standing here talking to me.'</p> + +<p>Anne, who was of a very obliging temper, and who liked to +do what she was asked to do, went back to the place where the +scotcher lay; and scarcely had she reached the spot, when she +heard the noise of a carriage. She ran to call her brother, and, +to their great joy, they now saw four chaises coming towards +them. Paul, as soon as they went up the hill, followed with +his scotcher; first he scotched the wheels of one carriage, then +of another; and Anne was so much delighted with observing +how well the scotcher stopped the wheels, and how much better +it was than stones, that she forgot to go and hold her brother's +hat to the travellers for halfpence, till she was roused by the +voice of a little rosy girl, who was looking out of the window +of one of the chaises. 'Come close to the chaise-door,' said +the little girl; 'here are some halfpence for you.'</p> + +<p>Anne held the hat; and she afterwards went on to the other +carriages. Money was thrown to her from each of them; and<span class="pagenum">[455]</span> +when they had all gotten safely to the top of the hill, she and +her brother sat down upon a large stone by the roadside, to +count their treasure. First they began by counting what was +in the hat—'One, two, three, four halfpence.'</p> + +<p>'But, oh, brother, look at this!' exclaimed Anne; 'this is +not the same as the other halfpence.'</p> + +<p>'No, indeed, it is not,' cried Paul, 'it is no halfpenny; it is +a guinea, a bright golden guinea!' 'Is it?' said Anne, who +had never seen a guinea in her life before, and who did not +know its value; 'and will it do as well as a halfpenny to buy +gingerbread? I'll run to the fruit-stall and ask the woman; +shall I?'</p> + +<p>'No, no,' said Paul, 'you need not ask any woman, or anybody +but me; I can tell you all about it, as well as anybody in +the whole world.'</p> + +<p>'The whole world! Oh, Paul, you forgot. Not so well as +my grandmother.'</p> + +<p>'Why, not so well as my grandmother, perhaps; but, Anne, +I can tell you that you must not talk yourself, Anne, but you +must listen to me quietly, or else you won't understand what I +am going to tell you, for I can assure you that I don't think I +quite understood it myself, Anne, the first time my grandmother +told it to me, though I stood stock still listening my +best.'</p> + +<p>Prepared by this speech to hear something very difficult to +be understood, Anne looked very grave, and her brother +explained to her that, with a guinea, she might buy two +hundred and fifty-two times as many plums as she could get +for a penny.</p> + +<p>'Why, Paul, you know the fruit-woman said she would give +us a dozen plums for a penny. Now, for this little guinea, +would she give us two hundred and fifty-two dozen?'</p> + +<p>'If she has so many, and if we like to have so many, to be +sure she will,' said Paul, 'but I think we should not like to +have two hundred and fifty-two dozen of plums; we could not +eat such a number.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[456]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i041f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i041t.jpg" alt="i041"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>'But, oh, brother, look at this! this is not the same as the other halfpence.'</i></p> +</div> + +<p>'But we could give some of them to my grandmother,' said +Anne. 'But still there would be too many for her, and for us +too,' said Paul, 'and when we had eaten the plums, there would +be an end to all the pleasure. But now I'll tell you what I am +thinking of, Anne, that we might buy something for my grandmother<span class="pagenum">[457]</span> +that would be very useful to her indeed, with the +guinea—something that would last a great while.'</p> + +<p>'What, brother? What sort of thing?' 'Something that +she said she wanted very much last winter, when she was so ill +with the rheumatism—something that she said yesterday, when +you were making her bed, she wished she might be able to buy +before next winter.'</p> + +<p>'I know, I know what you mean!' said Anne—'a blanket. +Oh, yes, Paul, that will be much better than plums; do let us +buy a blanket for her; how glad she will be to see it! I will +make her bed with the new blanket, and then bring her to look +at it. But, Paul, how shall we buy a blanket? Where are +blankets to be got?'</p> + +<p>'Leave that to me, I'll manage that. I know where blankets +can be got; I saw one hanging out of a shop the day I went +last to Dunstable.'</p> + +<p>'You have seen a great many things at Dunstable, brother.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, a great many; but I never saw anything there or anywhere +else that I wished for half so much as I did for the +blanket for my grandmother. Do you remember how she used +to shiver with the cold last winter? I'll buy the blanket to-morrow. +I'm going to Dunstable with her spinning.'</p> + +<p>'And you'll bring the blanket to me, and I shall make the +bed very neatly, that will be all right—all happy!' said Anne, +clapping her hands.</p> + +<p>'But stay! Hush! don't clap your hands so, Anne; it will +not be all happy, I'm afraid,' said Paul, and his countenance +changed, and he looked very grave. 'It will not be all right, +I'm afraid, for there is one thing we have neither of us thought +of, but that we ought to think about. We cannot buy the +blanket, I'm afraid.' 'Why, Paul, why?' 'Because I don't +think this guinea is honestly ours.'</p> + +<p>'Nay, brother, but I'm sure it is honestly ours. It was +given to us, and grandmother said all that was given to us to-day +was to be our own.' 'But who gave it to you, Anne?' +'Some of the people in those chaises, Paul. I don't know +which of them, but I daresay it was the little rosy girl.'</p> + +<p>'No,' said Paul, 'for when she called you to the chaise +door, she said, "Here's some halfpence for you." Now, if she +gave you the guinea, she must have given it to you by +mistake.'<span class="pagenum">[458]</span></p> + +<p>'Well, but perhaps some of the people in the other chaises +gave it to me, and did not give it to me by mistake, Paul. +There was a gentleman reading in one of the chaises and a lady, +who looked very good-naturedly at me, and then the gentleman +put down his book and put his head out of the window, and +looked at your scotcher, brother, and he asked me if that was +your own making; and when I said yes, and that I was your +sister, he smiled at me, and put his hand into his waistcoat +pocket, and threw a handful of halfpence into the hat, and I +daresay he gave us the guinea along with them because he +liked your scotcher so much.' 'Why,' said Paul, 'that might +be, to be sure, but I wish I was quite certain of it.' 'Then, as +we are not quite certain, had not we best go and ask my +grandmother what she thinks about it?'</p> + +<p>Paul thought this was excellent advice; and he was not a +silly boy, who did not like to follow good advice. He went +with his sister directly to his grandmother, showed her the +guinea, and told her how they came by it.</p> + +<p>'My dear, honest children,' said she, 'I am very glad you +told me all this. I am very glad that you did not buy either +the plums or the blanket with this guinea. I'm sure it is not +honestly ours. Those who threw it you gave it you by mistake, +I warrant; and what I would have you do is, to go to +Dunstable, and try if you can at either of the inns find out the +person who gave it to you. It is now so late in the evening +that perhaps the travellers will sleep at Dunstable, instead of +going on the next stage; and it is likely that whosoever gave +you a guinea instead of a halfpenny has found out their mistake +by this time. All you can do is to go and inquire for the +gentleman who was reading in the chaise.'</p> + +<p>'Oh!' interrupted Paul, 'I know a good way of finding him +out. I remember it was a dark green chaise with red wheels: +and I remember I read the innkeeper's name upon the chaise, +"<i>John Nelson</i>." (I am much obliged to you for teaching me +to read, grandmother.) You told me yesterday, grandmother, +that the names written upon chaises are the innkeepers to +whom they belong. I read the name of the innkeeper upon +that chaise. It was John Nelson. So Anne and I will go to +both the inns in Dunstable, and try to find out this chaise—John +Nelson's. Come, Anne, let us set out before it gets quite +dark.'<span class="pagenum">[459]</span></p> + +<p>Anne and her brother passed with great courage the tempting +stall that was covered with gingerbread and ripe plums, +and pursued their way steadily through the streets of Dunstable; +but Paul, when he came to the shop where he had seen the +blanket, stopped for a moment and said, 'It is a great pity, +Anne, that the guinea is not ours. However, we are doing +what is honest, and that is a comfort. Here, we must go +through this gateway, into the inn-yard; we are come to the +"Dun Cow."' 'Cow!' said Anne, 'I see no cow.' 'Look up, +and you'll see the cow over your head,' said Paul—'the sign—the +picture. Come, never mind looking at it now; I want to +find out the green chaise that has John Nelson's name upon it.'</p> + +<p>Paul pushed forward, through a crowded passage, till he +got into the inn-yard. There was a great noise and bustle. +The hostlers were carrying in luggage. The postillions were +rubbing down the horses, or rolling the chaises into the coachhouse.</p> + +<p>'What now? What business have you here, pray?' said +a waiter, who almost ran over Paul, as he was crossing the +yard in a great hurry to get some empty bottles from the bottle-rack. +'You've no business here, crowding up the yard. Walk +off, young gentleman, if you please.'</p> + +<p>'Pray give me leave, sir,' said Paul, 'to stay a few minutes, +to look amongst these chaises for one dark green chaise with +red wheels, that has Mr. John Nelson's name written upon it.'</p> + +<p>'What's that he says about a dark green chaise?' said one +of the postillions.</p> + +<p>'What should such a one as he is know about chaises?' +interrupted the hasty waiter, and he was going to turn Paul +out of the yard; but the hostler caught hold of his arm and +said, 'Maybe the child <i>has</i> some business here; let's know +what he has to say for himself.'</p> + +<p>The waiter was at this instant luckily obliged to leave them +to attend the bell; and Paul told his business to the hostler, +who, as soon as he saw the guinea and heard the story, shook +Paul by the hand, and said, 'Stand steady, my honest lad; +I'll find the chaise for you, if it is to be found here; but John +Nelson's chaises almost always drive to the "Black Bull."'</p> + +<p>After some difficulty, the green chaise, with John Nelson's +name upon it, and the postillion who drove that chaise, were +found; and the postillion told Paul that he was just going into<span class="pagenum">[460]</span> +the parlour to the gentleman he had driven, to be paid, and +that he would carry the guinea with him.</p> + +<p>'No,' said Paul, 'we should like to give it back ourselves.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said the hostler; 'that they have a right to do.'</p> + +<p>The postillion made no reply, but looked vexed, and went +on towards the house, desiring the children would wait in the +passage till his return. In the passage there was standing a +decent, clean, good-natured-looking woman, with two huge +straw baskets on each side of her. One of the baskets stood +a little in the way of the entrance. A man who was pushing +his way in, and carried in his hand a string of dead larks hung +to a pole, impatient at being stopped, kicked down the straw +basket, and all its contents were thrown out. Bright straw hats, +and boxes, and slippers were all thrown in disorder upon the +dirty ground.</p> + +<p>'Oh, they will be trampled upon! They will be all spoiled!' +exclaimed the woman to whom they belonged.</p> + +<p>'We'll help you to pick them up, if you will let us,' cried +Paul and Anne, and they immediately ran to her assistance.</p> + +<p>When the things were all safe in the basket again, the +children expressed a desire to know how such beautiful things +could be made of straw; but the woman had not time to answer +before the postillion came out of the parlour, and with him a +gentleman's servant, who came to Paul, and clapping him upon +the back, said, 'So, my little chap, I gave you a guinea for a +halfpenny, I hear; and I understand you've brought it back +again; that's right, give me hold of it.' 'No, brother,' said +Anne, 'this is not the gentleman that was reading.' 'Pooh, +child, I came in Mr. Nelson's green chaise. Here's the +postillion can tell you so. I and my master came in that +chaise. I and my master that was reading, as you say, and it +was he that threw the money out to you. He is going to bed; +he is tired and can't see you himself. He desires that you'll +give me the guinea.'</p> + +<p>Paul was too honest himself to suspect that this man was +telling him a falsehood; and he now readily produced his +bright guinea, and delivered it into the servant's hands. +'Here's sixpence apiece for you, children,' said he, 'and goodnight +to you.' He pushed them towards the door; but the +basket-woman whispered to them as they went out, 'Wait in +the street till I come to you.'<span class="pagenum">[461]</span></p> + +<p>'Pray, Mrs. Landlady,' cried this gentleman's servant, +addressing himself to the landlady, who just then came out of +a room where some company were at supper—'Pray, Mrs. +Landlady, please to let me have roasted larks for my supper. +You are famous for larks at Dunstable; and I make it a rule +to taste the best of everything wherever I go; and, waiter, let +me have a bottle of claret. Do you hear?'</p> + +<p>'Larks and claret for his supper,' said the basket-woman to +herself, as she looked at him from head to foot. The postillion +was still waiting, as if to speak to him; and she observed +them afterwards whispering and laughing together. '<i>No bad +hit,</i>' was a sentence which the servant pronounced several times.</p> + +<p>Now it occurred to the basket-woman that this man had +cheated the children out of the guinea to pay for the larks and +claret; and she thought that perhaps she could discover the +truth. She waited quietly in the passage.</p> + +<p>'Waiter! Joe! Joe!' cried the landlady, 'why don't you +carry in the sweetmeat-puffs and the tarts here to the company +in the best parlour?'</p> + +<p>'Coming, ma'am,' answered the waiter; and with a large +dish of tarts and puffs, the waiter came from the bar; the +landlady threw open the door of the best parlour, to let him +in; and the basket-woman had now a full view of a large +cheerful company, and amongst them several children, sitting +round a supper-table.</p> + +<p>'Ay,' whispered the landlady, as the door closed after the +waiter and the tarts, 'there are customers enough, I warrant, +for you in that room, if you had but the luck to be called in. +Pray, what would you have the conscience, I wonder now, to +charge me for these here half-dozen little mats to put under +my dishes?'</p> + +<p>'A trifle, ma'am,' said the basket-woman. She let the +landlady have the mats cheap, and the landlady then declared +she would step in and see if the company in the best parlour +had done supper. 'When they come to their wine,' added +she, 'I'll speak a good word for you, and get you called in +afore the children are sent to bed.'</p> + +<p>The landlady, after the usual speech of, '<i>I hope the supper +and everything is to your liking, ladies and gentlemen,</i>' began +with, 'If any of the young gentlemen or ladies would have a +<i>cur'osity</i> to see any of our famous Dunstable straw-work, there's<span class="pagenum">[462]</span> +a decent body without would, I daresay, be proud to show +them her pincushion-boxes, and her baskets and slippers, and +her other <i>cur'osities</i>.'</p> + +<p>The eyes of the children all turned towards their mother; +their mother smiled, and immediately their father called in the +basket-woman, and desired her to produce her <i>curiosities</i>. +The children gathered round her large pannier as it opened, +but they did not touch any of her things.</p> + +<p>'Ah, papa!' cried a little rosy girl, 'here are a pair of +straw slippers that would just fit you, I think; but would not +straw shoes wear out very soon? and would not they let in +the wet?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, my dear,' said her father, 'but these slippers are +meant——' 'For powdering-slippers, miss,' interrupted the +basket-woman. 'To wear when people are powdering their +hair,' continued the gentleman, 'that they may not spoil their +other shoes.' 'And will you buy them, papa?' 'No, I cannot +indulge myself,' said her father, 'in buying them now. I +must make amends,' said he, laughing, 'for my carelessness; +and as I threw away a guinea to-day, I must endeavour to +save sixpence at least?'</p> + +<p>'Ah, the guinea that you threw by mistake into the little +girl's hat as we were coming up Chalk Hill. Mamma, I +wonder that the little girl did not take notice of its being a +guinea, and that she did not run after the chaise to give it back +again. I should think, if she had been an honest girl, she +would have returned it.'</p> + +<p>'Miss!—ma'am!—sir!' said the basket-woman, 'if it +would not be impertinent, may I speak a word? A little boy +and girl have just been here inquiring for a gentleman who +gave them a guinea instead of a halfpenny by mistake; and +not five minutes ago I saw the boy give the guinea to a gentleman's +servant, who is there without, and who said his master +desired it should be returned to him.'</p> + +<p>'There must be some mistake, or some trick in this,' said +the gentleman. 'Are the children gone? I must see them—send +after them.' 'I'll go for them myself,' said the good-natured +basket-woman; 'I bid them wait in the street yonder, +for my mind misgave me that the man who spoke so short to +them was a cheat, with his larks and his claret.'</p> + +<p>Paul and Anne were speedily summoned, and brought back<span class="pagenum">[463]</span> +by their friend the basket-woman; and Anne, the moment she +saw the gentleman, knew that he was the very person who +smiled upon her, who admired her brother's scotcher, and who +threw a handful of halfpence into the hat; but she could not +be certain, she said, that she received the guinea from him; +she only thought it most likely that she did.</p> + +<p>'But I can be certain whether the guinea you returned be +mine or no,' said the gentleman. 'I marked the guinea; it +was a light one; the only guinea I had, which I put into my +waistcoat pocket this morning.' He rang the bell, and desired +the waiter to let the gentleman who was in the room opposite +to him know that he wished to see him. 'The gentleman in +the white parlour, sir, do you mean?' 'I mean the master of +the servant who received a guinea from this child.' 'He is a +Mr. Pembroke, sir,' said the waiter.</p> + +<p>Mr. Pembroke came; and as soon as he heard what had +happened, he desired the waiter to show him to the room +where his servant was at supper. The dishonest servant, who +was supping upon larks and claret, knew nothing of what was +going on; but his knife and fork dropped from his hand, and +he overturned a bumper of claret as he started up from the +table, in great surprise and terror, when his master came in +with a face of indignation, and demanded '<i>The guinea</i>—the +<i>guinea, sir</i>! that you got from this child; that guinea which +you said I ordered you to ask for from this child.'</p> + +<p>The servant, confounded and half-intoxicated, could only +stammer out that he had more guineas than one about him, +and that he really did not know which it was. He pulled his +money out, and spread it upon the table with trembling hands. +The marked guinea appeared. His master instantly turned +him out of his service with strong expressions of contempt.</p> + +<p>'And now, my little honest girl,' said the gentleman who +had admired her brother's scotcher, turning to Anne, 'and now +tell me who you are, and what you and your brother want or +wish for most in the world.'</p> + +<p>In the same moment Anne and Paul exclaimed, 'The thing +we wish for the most in the world is a blanket for our grandmother.' +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[464]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/i042f.jpg"> + <img border="0" src="images/i042t.jpg" alt="i042"></img> + </a> +<p class="caption"><i>His master came in with a face of indignation, and demanded</i> 'The guinea—<i>the</i> +guinea, sir!'</p> +</div> + +<p>'She is not our grandmother in reality, I believe, sir,' said +Paul; 'but she is just as good to us, and taught me to read, +and taught Anne to knit, and taught us both that we should<span class="pagenum">[465]</span> +be honest—so she has; and I wish she had a new blanket +before next winter, to keep her from the cold and the +rheumatism. She had the rheumatism sadly last winter, sir; +and there is a blanket in this street that would be just the +thing for her.'</p> + +<p>'She shall have it, then; and,' continued the gentleman, 'I +will do something more for you. Do you like to be employed +or to be idle best?'</p> + +<p>'We like to have something to do always, if we could, sir,' +said Paul; 'but we are forced to be idle sometimes, because +grandmother has not always things for us to do that we <i>can</i> +do well.'</p> + +<p>'Should you like to learn how to make such baskets as +these?' said the gentleman, pointing to one of the Dunstable +straw-baskets. 'Oh, very much!' said Paul. 'Very much!' +said Anne. 'Then I should like to teach you how to make +them,' said the basket-woman; 'for I'm sure of one thing, +that you'd behave honestly to me.'</p> + +<p>The gentleman put a guinea into the good-natured basket-woman's +hand, and told her that he knew she could not afford +to teach them her trade for nothing. 'I shall come through +Dunstable again in a few months,' added he; 'and I hope to +see that you and your scholars are going on well. If I find +that they are, I will do something more for you.' 'But,' said +Anne, 'we must tell all this to grandmother, and ask her about +it; and I'm afraid—though I'm very happy—that it is getting +very late, and that we should not stay here any longer.' 'It +is a fine moonlight night,' said the basket-woman; 'and is not +far. I'll walk with you, and see you safe home myself.'</p> + +<p>The gentleman detained them a few minutes longer, till a +messenger whom he had dispatched to purchase the much-wished-for +blanket returned.</p> + +<p>'Your grandmother will sleep well upon this good blanket, +I hope,' said the gentleman, as he gave it into Paul's opened +arms. 'It has been obtained for her by the honesty of her +adopted children.'</p> + +<p class="h3">THE END</p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h4"><i>Printed by</i> <span class="smcap">R. & R. Clark, Limited</span>, <i>Edinburgh</i>.</p> + + +<div class="trnote"> + +<p class="cen">FOOTNOTES:</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">1</span></a>A hard-hearted man.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">2</span></a> 'The proper species of rush,' says White, in his <i>Natural History of +Selborne</i>, 'seems to be the <i>Juncus effusus</i>, or common soft rush, which is +to be found in moist pastures, by the sides of streams, and under hedges. +These rushes are in best condition in the height of summer, but may be +gathered so as to serve the purpose well quite on to autumn. The largest +and longest are the best. Decayed labourers, women, and children make +it their business to procure and prepare them. As soon as they are cut, +they must be flung into water, and kept there; for otherwise they will dry +and shrink, and the peel will not run. When these <i>junci</i> are thus far +prepared, they must lie out on the grass to be bleached, and take the dew +for some nights, and afterwards be dried in the sun. Some address is +required in dipping these rushes in the scalding fat or grease; but this +knack is also to be attained by practice. A pound of common grease may +be procured for fourpence, and about six pounds of grease will dip a pound +of rushes, and one pound of rushes may be bought for one shilling; so +that a pound of rushes, medicated and ready for use, will cost three +shillings.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">3</span></a> The author has seen a pair of shoes, such as here described, made in +a few hours.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">4</span></a> <i>Goody</i> is not a word used in Ireland. <i>Collyogh</i> is the Irish appellation +of an old woman; but as <i>Collyogh</i> might sound strangely to English +ears, we have translated it by the word Goody.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">5</span></a> What are in Ireland called moats, are, in England, called Danish +mounds, or barrows.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">6</span></a> Near Kells, in Ireland, there is a round tower, which was in imminent +danger of being pulled down by an old woman's rooting at its +foundation, in hopes of finding treasure.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">7</span></a> This is a true anecdote.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">8</span></a> <i>Salt</i>, the <i>cant</i> name given by the Eton lads to the money collected at +Montem.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">9</span></a> Young noblemen at Oxford wear yellow tufts at the tops of their caps. +Hence their flatterers are said to be dead-shots at yellow-hammers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">10</span></a> From beginning to end.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">11</span></a> This is the name of a country dance.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">12</span></a> It is necessary to observe that this experiment has never been actually +tried upon raspberry-plants.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">13</span></a> Vide Priestley's <i>History of Vision</i>, chapter on coloured shadows.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">14</span></a> Lobe.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">15</span></a> This atrocious practice is now happily superseded by the use of +sweeping machines.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">16</span></a> This custom of '<span class="smcap">Barring Out</span>' was very general (especially in the +northern parts of England) during the 17th and 18th centuries, and it has +been fully described by Brand and other antiquarian writers.</p> + +<p class="noin">Dr. Johnson mentions that Addison, while under the tuition of Mr. +Shaw, master of the Lichfield Grammar School, led, and successfully conducted, +'a plan for <i>barring out</i> his master. A disorderly privilege,' says +the doctor, 'which, in his time, prevailed in the principal seminaries of +education.'</p> + +<p class="noin">In the <i>Gentleman's Magazine</i> of 1828, Dr. P. A. Nuttall, under the +signature of P. A. N., has given a spirited sketch of a '<span class="smcap">Barring Out</span>' at +the Ormskirk Grammar School, which has since been republished at length +(though without acknowledgment) by Sir Henry Ellis, in Bonn's recent +edition of Brand's <i>Popular Antiquities</i>. This operation took place early +in the present century, and is interesting from its being, perhaps, the last +attempt on record, and also from the circumstance of the writer himself +having been one of the juvenile leaders in the daring adventure, 'quorum +pars magna fuit.'—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">17</span></a> Lucifer matches were then unknown.—<span class="smcap">Ed</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">18</span></a> <i>Varieties of Literature</i>, vol. i. p. 299.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">19</span></a> Chi compra ha bisogna di cent' occhi; chi vende n' ha assai di uno.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">20</span></a> E meglio esser fortunato che savio.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">21</span></a> Butta una sardella per pigliar un luccio.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">22</span></a> See <i>antea</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">23</span></a> Il cane scottato dell' acqua calda ha paura poi della fredda.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">24</span></a> The Duc de Rochefoucault.—'On peut être plus fin qu'un autre, +mais pas plus fin que tous les autres.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">25</span></a> Chartres.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">26</span></a> Poco e spesso empie il l' orsetto.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">27</span></a> Chi te fa piu carezza che non vuole, +O ingannato t' ha, o ingannar te vuole.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">28</span></a> This word comes from two Italian words, <i>banco rotto</i>—broken bench. +Bankers and merchants used formerly to count their money and write their +bills of exchange upon benches in the streets; and when a merchant or +banker lost his credit, and was unable to pay his debts, his bench was +broken.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">30</span></a> <i>Philosophical Transactions</i>, vol. ix. p. 440.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">31</span></a> Tutte le volpi si trovano in pellicera.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">32</span></a> Assai ben balla a chi fortuna suona.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">33</span></a> Odi, vedi, taci, se vuoi viver in pace.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">34</span></a> La vita il fine,—e di loda la sera.<br /> +Compute the morn and evening of their day.—<span class="smcap">Pope.</span></p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">35</span></a> Vien presto consumato l' ingiustamente acquistato.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">36</span></a> I fatti sono maschii, le parole femmine.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">37</span></a> <i>Phil. Trans.</i> vol. ix.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">38</span></a> These facts are mentioned in Sir William Hamilton's account of an +eruption of Mount Vesuvius.—See <i>Phil. Trans.</i> 1795, first part.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">39</span></a> La mala compagnia è quella che mena uomini a la forca.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">40</span></a> Pescar col hamo d' argento.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">41</span></a>Their whole study was how to please and to help one another.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">42</span></a> This was about the close of the last century.</p></div> + +</div> +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p class="h2">Macmillan's</p> +<p class="h3">Illustrated Pocket Classics.</p> + +<p class="h3">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY</p> + +<p class="h3"><span class="smcap">HUGH THOMSON, LINLEY SAMBOURNE, CHARLES E. +BROCK, CHRIS HAMMOND, and others.</span></p> + +<p class="h3"><i>Fcap. 8vo. Cloth, 2s. net each. Leather Limp, 3s. net each.</i></p> +<br /> + +<p class="advertisement"><b>CRANFORD.</b> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Gaskell</span>. With Preface by +<span class="smcap">Anne Thackeray Ritchie</span>, and 100 Illustrations +by <span class="smcap">Hugh Thomson</span>.</p> + +<p class="advertisement"><b>OUR VILLAGE.</b> By <span class="smcap">Mary Russell Mitford</span>. +With Preface by <span class="smcap">Anne Thackeray Ritchie</span>, +and 100 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Hugh Thomson</span>.</p> + +<p class="advertisement"><b>THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD.</b> With Preface by +<span class="smcap">Austin Dobson</span>, and 182 Illustrations by +<span class="smcap">Hugh Thomson</span>.</p> + +<p class="advertisement"><b>TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS.</b> By <span class="smcap">Thomas +Hughes</span>. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">E. J. Sullivan</span>.</p> + +<p class="advertisement"><b>THE WATER BABIES: A Fairy Tale for a Land +Baby.</b> By <span class="smcap">Charles Kingsley</span>. With 100 +Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Linley Sambourne</span>.</p> + +<p class="advertisement"><b>COACHING DAYS AND COACHING WAYS.</b> By +<span class="smcap">W. Outram Tristram</span>. With Illustrations by +<span class="smcap">Hugh Thomson</span> and <span class="smcap">Herbert Railton</span>.</p> + +<p class="advertisement"><b>THE HUMOROUS POEMS OF THOMAS HOOD.</b> With +Preface by Canon <span class="smcap">Ainger</span>, and 130 Illustrations +by <span class="smcap">Charles E. Brock</span>.</p> + +<p class="advertisement"><b>OLD CHRISTMAS.</b> By <span class="smcap">Washington Irving</span>. With +Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Randolph Caldecott</span>.</p> + +<p class="advertisement"><b>BRACEBRIDGE HALL.</b> By <span class="smcap">Washington Irving</span>. +With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Randolph Caldecott</span>.</p> + +<p class="h4">MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class="smcap">Ltd.</span>, LONDON.<span class="pagenum">[468]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p class="h2">Macmillan's</p> +<p class="h3">Illustrated Pocket Classics.</p> + +<p class="h3"><i>Fcap. 8vo. Cloth, 2s. net. Leather Limp, 3s. net.</i></p> + +<p class="spacer"></p> + +<p class="h2">THE WORKS OF JANE AUSTEN</p> +<p class="h3">WITH INTRODUCTIONS BY AUSTIN DOBSON.</p> + +<p class="advertisement"><b>PRIDE AND PREJUDICE.</b> With Illustrations by +<span class="smcap">Charles E. 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