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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..85d012d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55951 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55951) diff --git a/old/55951-0.txt b/old/55951-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4b6ed17..0000000 --- a/old/55951-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7194 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wise Saws and Modern Instances, Volume 1 -(of 2), by Thomas Cooper - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Wise Saws and Modern Instances, Volume 1 (of 2) - -Author: Thomas Cooper - -Release Date: November 12, 2017 [EBook #55951] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WISE SAWS, MODERN INSTANCES, VOL 1 *** - - - - -Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Bryan Ness, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Note - - Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations - in hyphenation have been standardised but all other spelling and - punctuation remains unchanged. - - - - -WORKS - -_Preparing for Publication._ - - - LAYS AND LEGENDS OF FANCY AND FABLE. - A Collection of Oriental Tales, - ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE IMAGINATIVE CHARACTER OF DIFFERENT - AGES AND NATIONS: - - Designed to elucidate the philosophy of fiction as well as to - afford specimens of those marvels which have entered into popular - belief, and taken a permanent place in literature. The classical - inventions of the Greeks, the romantic fables of the middle ages, - the gorgeous and sometimes gloomy conceptions of the orientals, and - our own pleasing superstitions of fairy lore, will be exemplified - by specimens, and the influence of fancy on belief will be - illustrated by a variety of legends most of which have not hitherto - been brought before the English public. By W. C. TAYLOR, L.L.D. - - Adorned with Twenty beautiful line Engravings on Steel, from - pictures by British Artists, and several Woodcuts, elegantly - printed in demy 4to, and richly bound in gilt, _Price_ 21_s._ - - - THE BOOK OF ART; Or, Cartoons, Frescoes, Sculpture, and Decorative - Art, as applied to the New Houses of Parliament, as also to - building in general: with an Appendix, containing an Historical - Notice of the Exhibitions in Westminster Hall. - - The Volume, which will contain at least One Hundred Engravings, - is printing in the best manner, in royal 4to. _Price_ 15_s._ - handsomely bound. - - - _On the 1st of November, Part 1., Price Half-a-crown, to be continued - Monthly, and completed in Ten Parts_, - - WANDERINGS OF A PEN AND PENCIL; Being the results of an antiquarian - and picturesque tour through the Midland Counties of England, by F. - P. PALMER & ALFRED CROWQUILL. The illustrations will be drawn on - wood by the latter, and engraved by our best wood-cutters. - - The Book will present something of interest for those readers who - cherish the affection for antiquity, or an appreciation of manners, - customs, and legends which abound in the nooks of "Merry England." - - - _At Christmas_, - THE - HONEY STEW OF THE COUNTESS BERTHA. - A Fairy Tale. - - TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF ALEXANDER DUMAS BY - MARIANNE TAYLOR. - - With Coloured Engravings. - - - _Square Royal._ - RAMBLES IN NORMANDY. - BY JAMES HAIRBY, M.D. - - Normandy, the cradle of our monarchy and aristocracy, the last - resting-place of our early kings, and the scene of our first great - struggles against France, must ever have strong interest for - Englishmen. We find our national associations connected with its - most striking localities; and many of our leading families must - refer to the archives of this province for the antiquities of their - race. It is also as rich in natural scenery as it is in historical - associations; its peasants surpass those of the rest of France in - industry, intelligence, and comforts; while the numerous English - families who annually visit its sea-coast for the purpose of - bathing have brought it almost as close to England in alliance as - it was anciently in connection. - - This Volume will record the impressions of a two years' residence, - and sundry journeyings in the province, furnishing a useful guide - to visitors, and information for tarry-at-home travellers. The - Illustrations will consist of a variety of subjects, Costume, - Landscape, and Architecture. - - - - - WISE SAWS - AND - MODERN INSTANCES. - - VOL. I. - - - - - LONDON: - Printed by A. SPOTTISWOODE, - New-Street-Square. - - - - - WISE SAWS - AND - MODERN INSTANCES. - - BY - THOMAS COOPER, - THE CHARTIST, - AUTHOR OF - "THE PURGATORY OF SUICIDES." - - IN TWO VOLUMES. - - VOL. I. - - LONDON: - PRINTED FOR JEREMIAH HOW, - 209. PICCADILLY. - 1845. - - - - -TO -DOUGLAS JERROLD. - - - My friend, heart-homage, in this simple strain, - I yield thee for thy toil to aid the Right! - Too long hath genius, with a guilty slight, - Passed by the thousands who life's load sustain - Of scorn and indigence,—to court the vain - And foppish crowd,—or laud, in phrases dight - With fulsome flattery, some pampered wight - Who counts himself for polished porcelain,— - The poor for vulgar clay! A nobler path,— - Disdaining hireling censure, hireling praise,— - Thou, for thyself, hast chosen. Still, in faith - That thy true toil shall hasten the boon days - Of brotherhood renewed, brother, toil on!— - All upright hearts give thee blythe benison! - - - - -ADVERTISEMENT. - - -With the exception of the last three sketches, the pieces composing -these two volumes were written during the author's confinement, for -"conspiracy," in Stafford gaol, merely, as a relief from the intenser -thought exercised in the composition of his "Prison-Rhyme,"—"The -Purgatory of Suicides,"—already published. Higher merit than -naturalness combined with truth is not claimed for any of the stories: -they are, simply, such as any man may write who has the least power of -pourtraying the images which human life, in some of its humblest, least -disguised forms, has impressed on his memory,—while the heart has -formed no attachment sufficiently powerful to seduce the judgment into -a decision, that it is either wise or honest to hide these images from -the observance of others. Nearly all the homely characters sketched -are real,—some of them, in their very names; and the few adventures -allotted to them, are devoid of romance and intricacy, because they -seldom exceed fact. - -The "_Old_ Lincolnshire," so often mentioned in these simple pieces, -and endeared to the writer of them by the associations of thirty -years of his life, is likely soon to disappear before the social -changes of that _New_ Lincolnshire which railway "civilisation" -will summon into existence:—would that the manufacturing-misery of -the modern Leicestershire, outlined in two or three uncoloured and -painfully-veritable pictures, might, as speedily, evanish! - -Of the three concluding sketches, the writer feels it right to state -that the first is merely a slight alteration of a series of paragraphs -furnished to the _Stamford Mercury_, in 1838, and records strict facts -which were then occurring in Lincolnshire; while the two remaining -fragments were intended to form parts of a novel, in some degree -autobiographical,—but the completion of which was relinquished, at -first, from a toilful engagement with the sterner business of life, and -at length from a growing preference for other subjects. - - _134, Blackfriars' Road, - London, Nov. 1. 1845._ - - - - -CONTENTS -OF -THE FIRST VOLUME. - - - PAGE - - KUCKY SARSON, THE BARBER; OR, THE DISCIPLE OF - EQUALITY 1 - - RAVEN DICK, THE POACHER; OR, "WHO SCRATCHED THE - BULL?" 20 - - TIM SWALLOW-WHISTLE, THE TAILOR; OR, "EVERY DOG - HAS HIS DAY" 38 - - DAVY LIDGITT, THE CARRIER; OR, THE MAN WHO - BROUGHT HIS NINEPENCE TO NOUGHT 57 - - THE FISHERMAN AND THE FIDDLER; OR, "DON'T SAY SO - TILL YOU ARE SURE" 72 - - MASTER ZERUBBABEL, THE ANTIQUARY; AND HOW HE - FOUND OUT THE "NOOSE LARNING" 104 - - THE BEGGARED GENTLEMAN, AND HIS CROOKED STICK 127 - - THE NURTURE OF A YOUNG SAILOR; OR, THE HISTORY OF - COCKLE TOM 142 - - THE LAST DAYS OF AN OLD SAILOR; OR, "BUTTER YOUR - SHIRT! SING TANTARA-BOBUS, MAKE SHIFT!" 159 - - DOROTHY PYECROFT'S PREACHING; OR, "CHARITY BEGINS - AT HOME" 177 - - THE MINISTER OF MERCY 189 - - "MERRIE ENGLAND"—NO MORE! 201 - - SETH THOMPSON, THE STOCKINGER; OR, "WHEN THINGS - ARE AT THE WORST, THEY BEGIN TO MEND" 218 - - SAM SIMKINS, THE RUN-AWAY; OR, VILLAINY AS A - REFUGE FROM THE TORTURES OF SOUR-GODLINESS 235 - - - - -KUCKY SARSON, THE BARBER; -OR, -THE DISCIPLE OF EQUALITY. - - -Once upon a time—and that was when "French principles," as they were -called, were beginning to spread in England, and here and there one -began to profess admiration of the new republic,—there lived in the -little town of Caistor, in North Lincolnshire, a notable barber of the -name of Habakkuk Sarson,—but "Kucky" was the name by which he was -familiarly known; for Lincolnshire folk are a plain folk, and don't -like, nor ever did, to trouble themselves with uttering long cramp -names. - -It would be difficult to say how it was exactly, but somehow or other, -in spite of the alarm which landowners and tenantry alike felt at the -broaching of Jacobinism,"—that _terror terrorum_ to the squirearchy -and farmers,—Kucky Sarson contrived to keep a fair share of custom -in the matter of clipping hair and scraping beards. Scarcely an hour -of the day but Kucky had a customer; or if customers scanted, he was -sure to have company for gossip. Perhaps it was chiefly owing to the -frank-heartedness and real courtesy of manner which the barber mingled -with his earnest speech—for he was a very great talker, and a good one -too,—that he was respected by almost all who knew him, notwithstanding -his open profession of the principles of "equality." - -Indeed, it was a maxim of Kucky Sarson, that, "if you believed all men -to be equal, you ought to treat every man like a gentleman." "That is -the especial hinderance to the spread of first principles, sir," said -Kucky to a customer one day. "Democrats foolishly imagine, sir, that -democracy consists in barking like a bull-dog, or growling like a bear, -at every man they meet; when, the fact is, that that is just the way to -repel a sensible man from both yourself and your principles. Don't you -think so, sir?" - -Kucky's customer would have answered, but Kucky held him at that -moment by the nose, and was applying a keen razor to his upper lip. -The earnest shaver did not think of this, but supposed, since his -customer was a stranger, that he was either modest or unacquainted with -politics; and, in the latter case, Kucky was too true an enthusiast to -omit the opportunity of trying to make a convert—so he resumed, after -clearing his throat with a loud "a-hem!" - -"If the beautiful principles of equality do not spread, sir," he -said, resolving to show his best graces of conversational style to -a well-dressed stranger, "in my humble opinion, it will be chiefly -attributable to the miscalculating rudeness of those who affect to -advocate them. These principles, in themselves, are so self-evidently -true, and so happily calculated to ensure the felicity of the human -family, that it is impossible for any unprejudiced man to——" - -"Pardon me, friend," said the stranger, extricating his nose from the -barber's fingers somewhat dexterously, "there may be considerable -doubt about the self-evident truth of the principles you are speaking -of: you seem to me to be somewhat too hasty in concluding that every -one, from even a candid review of them, must acknowledge them to be -incontrovertible. Give me leave to say, my good friend, that nothing -will be more stoutly controverted than these same doctrines of human -equality." - -"Men may controvert them, sir," rejoined the barber, with some shade -of an approach to asperity of manner, "but I cannot, in my conscience, -give them credit for sincerity. Who was ever born into the world with -a star on his breast or his shoulder, to signify that he ought to rule -his fellows solely by his own will?—or who was ever created with a -crook on his knee, to signify that he ought to bow down to the caprice -of others? No, sir, the doctrines of equality are as clear as daylight -when opposed to the darkness of slavery and mastership. In short, sir, -'Right is every man's, but wrong is no man's right,' was a maxim of my -grandfather,—and I think it settles the question." - -"Indeed!" exclaimed the stranger, staring at the barber's last words, -and opening his lips till the lather ran into his mouth. - -"Yes, sir—I think so," repeated Kucky, striving to look as confident -as before, but evidently somewhat doubtful, on second thought, of the -conclusiveness of his own odd logic,—"I think so, sir; for, as I hold -it to be a natural right for every man to be governed only by his own -consent, so I conclude it to be wrong for any other man to attempt to -rule him without first asking his will or waiting his choice. I think -those two points are as clear as twice two makes four: the first is a -right, and belongs to every man, and the second is a wrong that should -be practised by no man. Does not my grandfather's precept mean the same -thing—'Right is every man's, but wrong is no man's right?'" - -"Pardon me, my friend," replied the gentleman, unable entirely to -suppress a smile, "if I say that I admire your sincerity more than your -logic. Allow me further to say——" - -"Oh, allow, sir!" exclaimed the barber, bowing very low, and spreading -out his hands,—"to be sure, I allow every man to judge for himself, -sir. It would be extremely inconsistent in me, who claim the fullest -freedom of opinion myself, to refuse others the liberty of thought, -sir. I pray you, sir, forgive me if I have been a little too positive -in my manner: I will assure you, sir, I am not a bigot,—indeed, I am -not——" - -"Stay, stay, my friend!" cried the stranger, puzzled and bothered with -the superlative politeness of him of the razor, "if you will finish -your operation upon my chin, we will have half-an-hour's talk on these -subjects afterwards. In the mean time, believe me, I am happy to find -you are so truly tolerant of other men's opinions: if we all cultivated -that spirit, this world would speedily be much happier than it is." - -"Excellent—excellent, sir!" exclaimed the honest and enthusiastic -barber, resuming his shaving, but too much excited to leave his -favourite theme—"you speak like a true gentleman, sir. I see we really -agree, although we may seem to differ; for you have just maintained a -sentiment which is purely in accordance with the principles I profess. -Some great man once said, 'No man was ever born with a saddle on his -back, nor was any other man brought into the world ready booted and -spurred to ride him.' That was a very true and striking saying: do you -recollect it, sir?" - -"I recollect it, and admire it much," answered the gentleman; "but I do -not just now remember whose it is." - -"Nor I, sir," rejoined the garrulous barber; "but that is of little -consequence, sir: truths are valuable solely for their own weight, and -not for the sake of those who utter them." - -"There, again, we differ," observed the stranger. "I think that many -truths are doubly valuable;—first, for their intrinsic excellence, -and often, secondarily, for the sake of the great and the good men -who utter them. For instance, the striking saying you have just -quoted becomes, to my mind, as a passionate lover of his own country, -increasedly valuable, when I remember that it is attributed to the -illustrious patriot-martyr, Algernon Sydney." - -"Why, sir," resumed Kucky Sarson, who was the soul of ingenuity -at an argument, "the man, and the truth he utters, are very often -one, essentially. Some men's lives—nay, their very deaths,—are -great truths in themselves,—like the life and death of the noble -commonwealthsman you have just mentioned: in such cases the man becomes -so closely and entirely identified with the truths he utters, that he -and they may be said to be one." - -"You are now really becoming too refined for me, my friend," replied -the gentleman, laughing. "But give me the pleasure of your company for -a couple of hours at my inn, if you please, and I will do my best to -discuss these points with you, good-humouredly and charitably, over a -glass of wine." - -The barber was making his politest acknowledgments, and was assuring -the gentleman that he felt highly honoured and gratified by his -handsome invitation, when old Farmer Garbutt, a regular customer -of Kucky's for more than thirty years past, although a stout -"church-and-king" man, pushed his burly person in at the little shop -door, and gruffly bidding the barber "good-morning," sat down in the -shaving-chair, which the gentleman had just quitted. Farmer Garbutt -could not have come at a moment when he was less welcome; but Bucky -Sarson could not decline to shave a beard he had shorn for so long a -period, and therefore politely assured the strange gentleman that he -would be with him, at his inn, in the course of a quarter of an hour. - -Ere the farmer's beard was cleansed, however, more than one additional -chin had gathered round the chair; and what was most vexing to Kucky, -in his impatient mood, was the "striking fact" that all the chins -and their beards belonged to the most extreme and sturdy opposers of -Kucky's republican principles to be found among his regular customers. -With all his acquirement of _suave_ manners, the poor barber was -greatly in danger of going into a passion, as he heard, first one, and -then another, allude, jeeringly, to the persecution that was commencing -against Kucky's favourite doctrines. Yet he kept down the rising storm -within, though with a considerable struggle:— - -"Ay, ay—they'll soon hang all the levellers out o' the way, I'll -warrant 'em!" said gruff Garbutt, rolling his eye in wicked waggery at -his neighbours, and then threateningly at Kucky. - -"What else can folk expect that side with cutting off kings' heads?" -cried Bobby Sparrow, a dapper little master-tailor, who made and -repaired habits for the parson, and all the genteel people, of Caistor -and its vicinity. - -"More by token—such folk as would pull down all the parish churches, -and murder all the Protestants!" added old Davy Gregson, a fat little -retired man of business, who liked to enjoy his joke,—sitting in a -corner of the old shop, and thrusting his tongue grotesquely into his -cheek,—although he was nearly fourscore. - -"You will please to remember, gentlemen," interjected the barber, -driven to the extremity of his temper, "that _I_ am _not_ an advocate -either for cutting off kings' heads, or pulling down parish churches, -or murdering people of any religion, much more my own." - -"But ye take part with rogues that do, neighbour Kucky," said Bobby -Sparrow, with provoking pertness,—"and the more's the shame to you!" - -"Ay, marry, good faith—that he does!" exclaimed old Davy Gregson, -enjoying the barber's apparent soreness; "and it has always been held -that the abettor is as bad as the thief or the murderer!" - -"If you mean to be respected, Kucky Sarson," growled old farmer Garbutt, -"be advised, and give up all your Jacobin notions. The Squire says it -would be ruin for this country to be without a king and an established -church. I had a famous talk with him on all these things at the rent-day; -and so he said: and if such gentlefolk as Squire Pelham don't know what -belongs to good government, I should like to know who does." - -"Squire Pelham's great-grandfather was of a somewhat different -opinion," answered the barber: "Peregrine Pelham was his name; and he -signed the death-warrant of Charles Stuart." - -"The Lord be merciful to us!" exclaimed old Davy, beginning to look -really alarmed—"why, that was in the time of the awful troubles that -my grandmother used to talk so sorrowfully about!—Surely you don't -wish that such grievous days were come again, do you, Kucky Sarson?" - -"God forbid!" ejaculated farmer Garbutt, solemnly. - -"You all _know_ I don't, before you ask me," answered the barber, with -some show of dignity. "I defy any one of you to say that there is a -quieter and more upright citizen in England than I am. Who can say that -I ever injured him? who dares say that I ever cheated any man of one -farthing—ay, or that I owe him one? And do I ever try to compel any -man to think as I think? Speak!—any one of you that can charge me with -an act of wrongfulness, or a single speech of intolerance!" - -"Well, well—excuse us, Kucky! We all regard you as an excellent -neighbour. But you seem more short about taking a joke than usual," -answered the dapper little master-tailor. - -The barber merely bowed, and said, "Well, well—never mind, never -mind, neighbours! we are none the worse friends for a joke." But he -was conscious that he felt short-tempered, and heartily wished his -customers would shorten their stay, in order that he might visit -the gentleman at his inn. Agreeably to his wish, the farmer, the -master-tailor, and the retired man of business each shook hands -heartily with Kucky, after a few more sentences of restorative -kindness, and bid him "good-day." The barber forthwith doffed his apron -and fore-pocket, adjusted his neckerchief, brushed his hat, exchanged -his shop jacket for his holiday-coat, and crying "Shop, my dear!" to -his wife, hurried away towards the inn, where, according to the strange -gentleman's request, Kucky had promised to meet him. - -To the barber's great mortification, when he arrived at the inn the -gentleman had been called out, and had left word that he would be -happy to receive his new acquaintance at six in the evening. Kucky -Sarson felt half disposed to be unhappy with disappointment; for he -feared that he would be unable to leave his shop at that busy hour of -the evening. He was hastening homeward, and striving to banish this -unpleasant feeling, when, passing by the end of a narrow street or -lane, he suddenly saw the strange gentleman in close conversation with -a ragged, dirty-looking female, who seemed by her uncouth garb and -sun-burnt complexion to belong to the wandering race of the gypsies. -The barber stopped short and gazed in astonishment at what he saw. The -woman bent her keen eyes upon him; but the strange gentleman seemed too -much absorbed in looking at and talking to the gypsy to be aware that -he was discovered. - -The barber passed on to his shop, pondering much upon what he had -observed.—"What in the name of prudence and propriety!" soliloquised -Kucky, "can such a person have to do with a houseless out-cast and -vagabond of a gypsy?" The more he thought upon it, the more he -wondered; till, in the course of an hour, seeing that no one stepped -into the shop, he felt so exquisitely curious to know the meaning of -what he had seen, that he once more doffed his apron and shop-coat, -put on his holiday covering, and sallied forth again in search of the -strange gentleman's secret. - -Turning the first corner of the street, he suddenly ran hard against -his old gossip, Davy Gregson, and nearly knocked him down in his haste. - -"Hey-day, Kucky!" exclaimed Davy, "what a hurry you are in!—I reckon -you are posting away to see the gentleman dance with the gypsy!" - -Davy Gregson's exclamation operated like lightning upon the barber: he -took to his heels and ran, in the direction from whence Davy came, with -all the mettle he possessed. Just as he was crossing the way, however, -at the end of one street with the intent to run down another, he was -suddenly seized by little Bobby Sparrow, the dapper master-tailor. - -"What the dickens are you running so for, Kucky?" asked the little man; -"you'll be too late to see the gentleman huddle the gypsy—it's all -over, and——" - -"Huddle the gypsy!" exclaimed Kucky, "I thought he was dancing with -her?" - -"So he was: but he fell to kissing and huddling her after that," -answered Sparrow. - -"For Heaven's sake let me go see," cried the barber; and bolted away -again at the hazard of tearing his coat, which the tailor had kept hold -of. But before he had stretched one hundred yards, he was once more -stopped; and this time it was by the strong and effectual gripe of -gruff farmer Garbutt. - -"Art thou mad, Kucky Sarson?" asked the farmer, "or what is the reason -that thou art scampering away at such a hare-brained rate?" - -"The gypsy!" gasped the barber, still striving to run,—"the gypsy and -the gentleman!" - -"Pshaw, man!—the gentleman has suddenly found his sister who was -stolen when she was young," said the farmer: "the gentleman has -explained it all himself, and has taken the young woman into the -Pelham's Arms, where he puts up. I thought thou hadst had more sense, -Kucky, than to run after any crowd that gathered in the street." - -"Crowd!" echoed the barber, "was there a crowd then? - -"A crowd!" repeated the farmer, "that was there, I assure thee. There: -good-bye, Kucky!" and so saying he loosed hold of his neighbour, who -was now in some degree cooled down. - -Kucky Sarson did not set off to run again; but walked musingly on -towards the Pelham's Arms Inn, resolved, if possible, to get at the -bottom of the curious incidents just related. He was shown into the -strange gentleman's room at once, when he had intimated that it would -be inconvenient for him to call at six in the evening. And now the -barber felt completely embarrassed, and quite ashamed of his own -curiosity, in having forced himself upon the stranger so suddenly after -the affecting occurrence he had just been informed of by old farmer -Garbutt. In fact, Kucky had begun to stammer forth very odd apologies, -and was backing out of the room with a profusion of bows and scrapes, -when the gentleman rose, and leading his newly-recovered relative by -the hand, introduced her to his humble visitor. Kucky Sarson recognised -her face for the same he had seen in the narrow street a short time -before; but the altered dress and demeanour of the female caused him to -take her hand with much greater reverence than he would have shown had -that hand been offered him when he first saw its owner. - -"I saw you a short time ago, when my brother had just discovered me," -observed the female, as the barber took her hand. - -"You did, madam," replied he, stammering with confusion, and surprised -at the peculiar grace wherewith, he now thought, the gypsy conducted -herself. - -"No doubt you felt greatly surprised when you saw us," observed the -gentleman. - -"I must say I did," answered the barber, still looking very bashful. - -"Did you witness any of my capers in the street, my friend? I am -fearful that I have played a somewhat foolish part, for my elation -well nigh drove me out of my senses. Come, my good friend," concluded -the gentleman, noting the shy look of the barber, "let us sit down, -and, over a comfortable glass of wine, talk over this matter;—not -forgetting your family adage of 'Right is every man's, but Wrong is no -man's right.'" - -They were seated accordingly; and the barber, having been plied -with a couple of glasses of claret, and his shame-facedness having -vanished, the gentleman renewed the conversation, with a look of great -good-humour. - -"My good friend," said he, "I remember an observation of yours which, -it strikes me, you cannot always bring to bear upon your mind with the -force of a maxim, although you profess to have made it one: it was -that 'When we believe all men to be equal, we ought to treat every -man like a gentleman.' Now, tell me, frankly, did you not completely -forget your principles of equality at the moment you saw me with this -my beloved and only sister, in the guise of a vagabond gypsy?" The -gentleman took the hand of his recovered relative once more in his own, -and they looked with joy and love upon each other. - -The barber felt conscience-stricken with the inconsistency between his -philosophy and his practice, in this notable instance, and, despite his -natural loquacity, remained dumb. - -"Nay, my good friend," resumed the stranger; "do not think yourself -unlike other people. Let me see you rally, and display the spirit you -did this morning: all the world is too prone to fail in the act of -applying principles and professions to practice." - -"I do, indeed, feel," said the barber at length, but still hanging down -his head, "that I have _not_ felt and acted as a disciple of the great -doctrine of equality ought to have felt and acted this day." - -"And I think you will not fail to draw this great lesson from your -own experience, my friend," rejoined the gentleman, "that, however -intrinsically true it may be that we are all equal in the eye of Him -who made us, yet our birth, our early associations, our habits,—in -brief, the whole complexity of circumstances with which we are every -hour, nay, every moment, surrounded, renders it absolutely impossible -for any of us to act at all times, or even generally, upon the -conviction of that most undeniable and solemn truth." - -"You are perfectly right, sir," replied the barber, conscious that the -stranger spoke the language of common sense, and feeling humbled into -willing discipleship. - -"And, granting the doctrine of equality to be strictly true," continued -the gentleman, "yet how long, how very long must it be, ere the race -of mankind shall be able to throw off their prejudices—their present -artificial condition, shall we call it?—so completely as to reinduce -and reinstate that universal equality we have just agreed to be -natural." - -"Very sensible, sir," interjected Kucky Sarson; "but I am just -thinking," he added, feeling some return of his usual confidence, "that -equality never will be reinstated, unless we spread its great doctrines -by all the means in our power. Equality must be enuntiated, maintained, -and defended, sir; or, like other truths which have lain hid for ages, -it will not produce any fruit." - -"True, my good friend," answered the gentleman; "but permit me to -remind you that practice is more powerful than precept. If we each -sought to act towards our fellow-creatures as if they were really our -brethren and sisters, the principles of a true equality would soon gain -a citadel in each human heart. It is the putting into practice of this -deep conviction of our common brotherhood which is really most worthy -of our endeavours. We may contend against the artificial distinctions -which are established among men till doomsday; but if we do not, on -all occasions, display brotherly feeling towards our fellows, our -contention will produce no salutary effect." - -"Indeed, sir," said the barber, "I feel you are by far the more -consistent philosopher of the two——" - -"Nay," said the gentleman, cutting short the barber's strain of -intended panegyric; "I would not have you suppose that I am a perfect -practiser of the maxims I am recommending. I never yet found a man -who fulfilled his own definition of a philanthropist, a patriot, -or a philosopher,—that is, if his definition were worthy of being -termed one. I only press this fact upon your notice, my friend: -that I was once in the habit of talking as loudly about equality as -yourself,—nay, even dogmatically about it, and that is _not_ like -your way of talking; but I have ceased to talk about the name, and am -now endeavouring to spread the spirit of it. I try to do all the good -I can, to make every one as happy as I can, to banish all the misery -I can. I cannot always keep in mind that every human being I meet -is my brother or sister; for the force of old habit is such that a -pernicious aristocracy moves within me sometimes, but I try to keep it -down. My friend, I am preaching _to_ you, rather than conversing _with_ -you; but we will now leave this subject for some lighter theme, if -you please; only permit me to say, in conclusion, that you must never -believe yourself to be a thorough disciple of Equality while a grain -of offence arises in your mind on seeing a gentleman converse with a -gypsy." - -It would be tiresome to pursue any further the conversation of the -barber and the strange gentleman. Suffice it to say that Kucky Sarson -was an altered man from that day, though he never saw the gentleman -again. He subdued the habit of expressing his convictions in terms -which he knew must give offence and create prejudice, rather than -advance truth, couch them as courteously as he might in the flourish -of politeness. He turned his efforts, in the humble sphere of his -conventional existence, rather towards preparing the world for rigid -truth, than towards impelling the people into the acknowledgment -and practice of principles of which they had not as yet learned the -alphabet. These changes, to Kucky Sarson's honour be it spoken, came -over his spirit, not through cowardice,—for he possessed enough -of strength of mind and principle to have braved a prison, had he -thought his lot cast in the fitting and becoming time: it was honest -conviction which acted as a mollifier of Kucky's manners, and the -usefulness of the change in him was evidenced by the greater good he -effected in his modified character. He preserved his grandfather's -favourite saying to the last day of his life; and, as no one sought -more ardently to fulfil the character of an humble philanthropist,—to -alleviate distress wherever he found it,—to soften and dissipate -asperity of temper, and to create the genuine feeling of brotherhood, -and the practice of self-sacrifice among all men,—so his name and -favourite adage were remembered after his death; insomuch that when -a word tending to difference arose among the plain inhabitants of -Caistor-in-Lindsey, it was usually succeeded, and the difference -prevented, by some one observing, "Why, neighbours, what's the use of -wrangling? You know what good Kucky Sarson used to say,—'Right is -every man's, and Wrong is no man's right.'" - - - - -RAVEN DICK, THE POACHER; -OR, -"WHO SCRATCHED THE BULL?" - - -Kiah Dobson,—they always called him Kiah "for shortness sake," as we -used to say in Lincolnshire; but his full name was Hezekiah,—Kiah -Dobson was a hearty buck of a farmer, who ploughed about fifty acres, -and fed sheep and bullocks on about fifty others. He was a tenant of -good old Squire Anderson, the ancestor of the Yarboroughs, who are -called Lords in these new-fashioned times. Lindsey and its largest -landlord presented, it need scarcely be said, very different features -sixty years ago to those they present now. Squire Anderson kept a -coach, but he had not three or four, like his successor, the peer: he -had one good house at Manby, but he had not that and a much grander -one at Brocklesby, another at Appuldercome, in the Isle of Wight, and -another in town. - -The farmers of Lindsey kept each a good nag, for market service, and -so forth; but it was a very, very scarce thing to find a blood horse -in their stables; and when their dames went to market, it was on the -pillion-seat, behind the farmer himself, and not in the modern kickshaw -gig. There were none of your strongholds of starvation, which the -famishing thousands call "Bastiles," in those days; and a horn of good -humming ale, and a motherly slice of bread and cheese, awaited the -acceptance of any poor man who happened to be journeying, and called -either at the hall of the squire or at the cottages of any of the -farmers on his extensive estates. - -Kiah Dobson was nearing his cottage one November evening, a little -before dusk, when a figure caught his eye, the sight of which roused -his gall,—and yet Kiah was by no means a choleric or hasty-tempered -man. It was Raven Dick, the poacher, that the farmer was so wroth to -see; for Dick was beheld as the farmer had beheld him nearly fifty -times before,—with a bundle of dead hares under his arm. The farmer -turned to cross the home-close in another direction, willing, as it -seemed, to give Dick another fair opportunity of getting safely away. -But "the devil was in Dick for impudence," as Kiah used often to -say,—"if you gave him an inch, he would be sure to take an ell!" Not -content with imposing on farmer Dobson's good-nature forty-nine times -in the course of his harum-scarum life, he must e'en "try it on" for -the fiftieth, and so made the experiment just once too often. - -"Farmer! how d'ye feel yoursen?" said Dick, striding up to Kiah Dobson, -and looking him full in the face, as bold as a bull-dog. - -"Better than thou'lt feel, scapegrace! when thou gets thy hempen collar -on!" replied the farmer, snarling as angrily as a mastiff when he -doesn't like you. - -"May be the thread of it isn't spun yet," retorted Dick, mocking the -farmer's angry tone. - -"Surely, old Nick himself isn't more impudent than his children that -wear his own colour!" exclaimed Kiah, darting a withering look at -Dick's black face, for Dick's skin was even swarthier than a gypsy's; -and I might as well say now as at any other time, that the sable shade -of Dick's countenance, coupled with their knowledge of his wild way of -life, were the emphatic reasons why his neighbours gave him the epithet -of "Raven." - -Now, above all things, Dick did not like these reflections on his -unfair colour; so, with something in the shape of an oath, Dick -turned his heel in dudgeon, and seemed, not at all to the farmer's -displeasure, to be bent on making his way home. - -Dame Dobson, who was a stout country-wife, and was labouring lustily -at her churn, and scolding one of her maids, who had been idling, just -as her husband entered the cottage, caught a sight of the well-known -poacher with the hares under his arm ere the farmer could close the -door, and, with the anger that her maid had kindled, was ill prepared -to brook new provocation. - -"Shame on thee, Kiah, for letting that rascal escape so often!" -she exclaimed, screaming so loudly that Dick could hear her words -distinctly, though nearly half way over the close; "it will come to the -Squire's ears at long-last, thou may depend on't! and then thou knowst -what will follow!" - -"Hang the villain!" said Kiah, "he really deserves nabbing; and I've -half a mind to go after him and collar him; for, confound him! he grows -more brazenly impudent than a miller's horse! he's getting worse than -come-out!" - -"You'll ha' no need to do that," said the incorrigibly idle maiden, -who had gone to the window to peep at the poacher, in spite of her -mistress's fierce scolding, "he's turned again, and has been listening -to you, and now he's coming hither as fast as shanks' horse can carry -him!" - -And so it was, for Dick had changed his intent; and, with a perverse -will, now strode, at full stretch, towards the door of the farm house. - -"Curse his gallows-neck!" exclaimed farmer Dobson, between his teeth, -when he heard the maiden's words: "has he such a brass-face as that -comes to? I'll nab him this time, or I'm a Dutchman else!" - -Raven Dick's foot was on the grunsel almost before the farmer had -finished this last sentence; and throwing himself on a chair in the -kitchen, and the hares on the cottage floor, alike with the air and -impudence of one who braves the gallows, he asked for a horn of ale -and a lump of bread and cheese with as little ceremony as if he had -been a squire in his own mansion. Dick's audacity, however, had now -overstretched its mark. The farmer's strong fist was on Dick's frock -collar in a moment; the next, the farmer had dragged him from his seat; -and, in the third, Dick was prostrate on the cottage floor. Unluckily, -Kiah Dobson's anger overbalanced his caution; and, with the impetuosity -of his own force upon the poacher, Kiah brought himself, also, to the -floor. - -Dick had so long careered it over the farmer's fields, by day and by -night, and had so often "snickled," or noosed the hares, as one may -say, under the farmer's nose, and the farmer had all the while taken -it so mildly, that the poacher was never more surprised in his life -than at this portentous assault upon his person by mild, good-natured -Kiah Dobson. Had it not been for his imaginary security of feeling, the -poacher would not so easily have been overthrown. And, as it was, Dick -was not disposed to believe that all was over with him; he speedily -succeeded in wriggling his body from under the farmer's weight, and, -in the course of a few minutes, had his knee upon Kiah's breast, and -began to grab the farmer so tightly by the throat that he soon grew -blacker than Dick himself. Luckily Dame Dobson's churn staff came to -the rescue. She pommelled the hard head of the poacher so soundly, -and her strokes came so thick and fast after each other, that he was -compelled to loose his hold on the farmer's throat, in order to catch -the churn-staff from the farmer's wife. The engagement, however, now -became more furious. Poor Kiah lay gasping on the floor, for some -moments, unable to rise, much less to aim a blow at the adversary; -but the war was at its height between Raven Dick and the dame, and -two stout maidens of her service. Mops, brooms, and brushes were -successively impelled with no playful force towards the seasoned skull -of the poacher, but were shivered with the rapidity of lightning, as -he dexterously caught hold of them, and wrested them from the hands of -his clamorous assailants. The din of female tongues was scarcely less -than the noise of blows; and when the more effective ammunition was all -expended, the discharge was confined, at last, to the small shot of -epithets, poured in every imaginable shape, from the fair musketry of -the three female belligerents' mouths. - -The scene had now become as laughable as previously it had been -serious. Raven Dick stood on a chair in the middle of the floor, -drawing his face into the most whimsical forms and mocking the women, -while they stood around him, each with hands on hip, and tearing -their throats with the effort to abuse and irritate, or otherwise to -shame him. The farmer, seeing what turn the war had taken, had seated -himself on a chair, and forgetting his anger, was shaking his sides -with laughter at the ludicrous and unwonted scene presented that night -in his kitchen. The affray at length shrank into silence; the women's -tongues were fairly wearied; they each sat down to rest; and so Dick -sat down, likewise. - -"Dang it Dick, thou'rt a good woolled 'un!" said the hearty farmer; -"but thou art an idle rogue, after all." - -"How so, Maister Kiah?" asked the saucy poacher; "why do you call me an -idle rogue?" - -"Because thou art fonder of stealing than working," quickly replied the -farmer. - -"Stealing, say you?" rejoined Dick, his brows knitting together; "I -scorn your words, Kiah Dobson!—You lie in your throat!—What do I -steal?" - -"The 'squire's hares, by dozens, thou saucy varlet," answered Kiah. - -"How come they to be the 'squire's hares?" asked Dick, fixing his eyes -very keenly on the farmer. - -"By feeding and breeding on his land," answered Kiah Dobson. - -"But don't _you_ plough the land, Farmer Dobson?" - -"To be sure I do——" - -"And don't _you_ buy the seed to sow upon the land?" - -"Sartainly I do——" - -"And don't _you_ sow the seed when you have bought it?" - -"Ay, and I can sow a breadth with here and there a fellow in any——" - -"Pshaw!—don't _you_ watch the corn while it is growing, weed it, and -attend to it till it is ripe? and do not _you_, with the sweat of your -own brow, and the help of those you hire with your own purse, reap the -corn, and gather it into the stack-yard?—and don't _you_, afterwards, -pay many a shilling in wages for Roger Brown, and Tim Wilson, and -others, to thrash your corn for you?—and don't you consider the corn -_yours_ when you are taking it to market?—and don't you think _you_ -have a right to receive the money for which you sell it?" - -"Ay, and I would fain be knowing, Dick, who besides has so good a right -to it as I have," replied the farmer, starting to his feet with warmth, -and not apprehending the drift of Dick's queries. - -"Then the corn which these poor hares have eaten during the summer," -said Dick, pointing to the dead animals which lay on the floor, "was -_your_ corn, and _not_ the 'squire's, for you pay him his rent, don't -you, Kiah?" - -"Zounds, ay! to the very day," instantly and proudly replied the farmer. - -"And yet _you_ durst not kill a hare, and be seen in doing it," said -Dick, not permitting a moment's pause to take place. - -"Me kill a hare!" exclaimed Kiah, scratching his head, and colouring -very deeply; "Lord! you know, Dick, I've no licence; and, besides, the -'squire always reckons the hares his own, you know." - -"Does he?" said Dick, with a peculiar sneer, "then he's a fool for so -doing.—Why, Farmer Dobson, don't you remember how, last latter-end, -three persons came from Lincoln, and went shooting like wild devils -over the whole estate, murdering and bagging all they could see? And -it's more than likely you'll have a greater number of the Lincoln -Minster Jackdaws, as the 'squire called 'em, this month than you had -last November; and will the 'squire be such a fool as to call the hares -his own then, when the black thieves are packing off with them, think -you?" - -"Dang it! thou talks very odd, Dick!" said the farmer, sitting down -very quietly, fixing his eyes on the floor, and scratching his head -harder than before; "thou talks very odd, but what thou say'st is as -true as the gospel, for all that." - -"That it is, as sure as eggs are eggs," added the dame, into whose mind -conviction had been entering a little more quickly than into that of -her husband. - -"There now!" exclaimed Dick, springing from his seat, and feeling proud -of the power of his argumentation, when he saw both the farmer and his -wife brought over so triumphantly to his side of the question. "There -now, you see, Kiah Dobson, a man may be judged very wrongly, and be -condemned for a thief and a rogue by many who are either—saving your -presence, farmer—thorough fools or rogues themselves, and yet, all -the while, he may be quite as honest as his neighbours. Now, don't you -think it hard, Kiah, under all the circumstances, that _you_ are not -allowed to kill a hare when you like?" - -"I'm not thinking so much about that," replied Farmer Dobson, his eyes -still bent very thoughtfully downward—"I'm not thinking so much about -that, as I am wondering how, in the name of Old Nick, these things came -to be as they are. You see, Dick, it was the same in my father's time, -though I've heard him say that my grandfather used to tell how, in -the time of the great troubles, folks killed game when and where they -liked; but that was only owing to the unsettled state of things, for -these laws about the game were made before that time I take it, Dick." - -"According to what I've learned about it," said Dick, looking still -more proud than before, and feeling himself superior in information to -the rest of the company, "these Game Laws, as they are called, began -with William the Conqueror, the king that I dare say you've heard of, -farmer, that came from beyond the sea, and got possession of this -country, when——" - -"Likely, likely," said the farmer, yawning, and growing wearied of -Dick's learning; "I don't care two straws who first made such laws, -Dick; but I'm sure of one thing—that it must be wrong, when one thinks -on it, that the great folk should claim the wild creatures God Almighty -makes himself as their own, when, all the while, they have no more -right to 'em than other folk." - -"To be sure it's wrong, farmer," said Dick. "What right could any man -have, whether he were a king, or a 'squire, or a parson, to say to -all the people of this country, or any other country, 'You shall none -of you kill a stag, or a hare, or a pheasant, under pain of losing a -hand, or going to prison?' The only wonder is, farmer, that people have -submitted to these laws so long and so quietly." - -"Why, you see, Dick," continued the farmer, whose common sense was of -a more solid character than Dick's, though his perceptions were not -quite so acute at the outset of an enquiry—"you see, Dick, this law -is contrived, like most other laws, to draw a number of folk into the -love and the liking of it: it isn't simply _one_ man _now_, whatever it -might have been formerly, that is interested in keeping up these Game -Laws. Rich folks generally think they ought to do no other but uphold -'em. They say, that all the game would soon be destroyed if every body -was allowed to kill hares and pheasants when and where they like. -The 'squire, too, sends presents, you know, to his acquaintances the -great folk in London, and elsewhere; and if hares and pheasants and -partridges were as common with poor folk as with rich, why, the great -folk would soon scorn to have 'em on their tables. 'There are wheels -within wheels,' as the miller says, Dick. Rich folk are sure to hang -together on their side of the wheat-sack; and that is the reason—more -than their money, Dick, mind ye! more than their money—why they are -so much more powerful than the poor. And for the self-same reason that -they _are_ so powerful, Dick," concluded the farmer, seeming determined -to finish his speech in spite of the poacher's evident dislike to it, -"I think it is far better for all who love peace and quietness, and a -whole skin, to keep out of harm's way. You understand me, Dick! Come, -dame, fill us a good jug of ale, and let us have a bit of bread and -cheese, or a mouthful of bacon, and Dick and I will talk these things -over a bit, just in a quiet and sensible way." - -The dame hasted to set her hospitality before her spouse and the -poacher; and it soon became hard to say which most excelled in the -act of doing justice to it. The strong ale, however, was most freely -partaken by the poacher, and, under its potency, Dick's tongue soon -began to indulge itself with a tolerably large licence. - -"I' faith, farmer," he said, "you gave me a roughish reception when I -crossed your threshold; you must do things gentlier another time, when -you're disposed for a cramp: it's only a fool-hardy sort of a thing to -take a bull by the horns: it's ten times wiser, when he makes a butt at -you, to scratch him a bit, and coax him, and smooth him down." - -The farmer was a little nettled by Raven Dick's taunting tone and the -devilry of his eye; but he thought one scuffle enough for a day, and -so replied with a somewhat forced look of good humour, "I hardly think -it's wisest at all times, Dick. I think, for my own part, the only way -sometimes is to take a bull by the horns. And besides, Dick, whoever -heard o' such a thing as scratching a bull? You may scratch an angry -cur, you know, Dick," he concluded with a laugh, "but a bull!—no, no, -Dick, scratching a bull won't do at all!" - -"I know what I say, Farmer Dobson," cried Dick aloud, thumping one -hand upon the table, and pouring the ale on the outside of the horn, -instead of into it, with the other, "I know what I say,—and I say -_scratching_!" - -"Speak in the house, Dick!" retorted the farmer, colouring, "thou wilt -not talk better sense for shouting. I tell thee that that bull's only a -fool of a bull that will stand scratching! Wilt thou make me believe, -think'st thou, that any body would be such a goose, for instance, as to -try to scratch my old white bull in the second home close? Thou won't -venture to scratch him, I'm pretty sartain, Dick, with all thy brag and -bluster to boot!" - -"Won't I?" cried Dick, fiercely; "why, what do ye fancy is to hinder -me, eh! old clod-pate?" - -"Dick, Dick!" said the farmer, cooling himself with the remembrance -that the poacher was a much younger and inexperienced man than himself, -and tapping the wild youth admonishingly on the shoulder, "it is far -wiser for a man to go steadily about getting his bread, than either -to scratch bulls, or to snickle hares, depend on't. I don't say but -that you have as much right to practise one as t'other, if you feel -inclined; only, you are almost sure to repent it in the end, in either -case: you understand me, Dick?" - -"'Od dang it!" hiccupped Dick, setting his ragged hat on one side, and -looking at the farmer as if he intended him to understand he was no -ordinary hero, "do ye think, Kiah Dobson, that I fear aught that may -happen? I say I _will scratch_ your bull; ay, and I'll tame him, too, -as I've tamed you?" - -"Better not," replied the farmer drily; "better go quietly home, Dick, -and try to earn thy living honestly, like thy father and thy brother -Ned." - -"To Jericho with 'em both!" roared Raven Dick, bouncing up from his -seat: "they're fools both of 'em! I don't intend to slave for ever, and -never have any fun, like them. No, no! I'll have a hare when I like; -ay, and I'll scratch a bull when I like, too!—so here goes!" and out -sallied the intoxicated poacher, snatching up the dead hares as he -went, and placing them under his arm as before. Farmer Dobson and the -dame followed, for their curiosity was, naturally, too highly excited -to permit their remaining behind. - -Just as Dick vaulted over the first hedge, for he was in too heroic a -vein to think of taking the stile, though it was close by, Dick met -one who was no stranger to him. It was the squire's gamekeeper. The -moon shone brightly, and the gamekeeper looked hard at Dick, and still -harder at the hares under his arm. But although the gamekeeper had his -gun with him as usual, he most likely felt unwilling to encounter one -so strong, and withal so reckless as he knew Raven Dick to be, for he -did not speak to him. Dick spoke to the gamekeeper, notwithstanding. - -"Heigho!" said he, "brother poacher! how are you for fun? just stop -and look at me, while I scratch Kiah Dobson's old bull, will ye?" -and off he went along the hedge-row in quest of his new game, while -the gamekeeper and the farmer and his wife stood gazing after him in -astonishment. - -Scarcely sooner said than done! Dick came up to the bull as he lay in -the pasture, quietly and unsuspectingly chewing the cud, and Dick began -to scratch the bull. It need hardly be said that if Dick thought this -very funny, the horned beast's thoughts were of another complexion. -The bull rose, blurred, and ran bang upon Dick, goring his ribs, -throwing him up, and, bounding to the other side of the field, left -the scratcher senseless upon the grass, and all before you could have -found breath to say, "Jack Robinson!" had you been looking on, like the -gamekeeper and farmer and dame Dobson. - -Nothing in the wide world could have given the gamekeeper greater -pleasure than Dick's overthrow. "Farmer Dobson," said he, "now is the -time to nab the rascal: fetch your wheelbarrow, and we'll put him into -it, and take him away to the next constable's, and he shall put him -into the close-hole, till justice can be had upon him: it will do the -Squire's heart good, I'm sure, to learn that we have noosed the Raven -at last, after he has noosed so many score brace o' game." - -Kiah Dobson's heart felt reluctant to assist in imprisoning Dick, -'scapegrace, although he knew him to be: but how could he refuse -compliance with the request of the squire's gamekeeper, for there lay -the hares by the poacher's side? Besides, as Kiah often used to say, -when he related the story in after years, he reflected that although -Dick was so good a logician on the evils of the Game Laws, yet he had -become so outrageously daring in bidding defiance to danger, that he -feared ill would come on it, if a timely check were not given to his -course. So Kiah went and fetched the barrow, and he and the gamekeeper -lifted Dick into it, and away they wheeled him to the next constable's -house. A surgeon attended to Dick's wounds, when he had brought him to -his senses a little; and, the next week, the squire himself, sitting -in judicial state at the hall of Manby, committed Dick to the House of -Correction for six months. - -Dick found the labour of knocking hemp—the usual employ of prisoners -in the gaols of North Lincolnshire at that period—to be but pitiful -"fun." And when he reflected that he would be likely to come there -again, or to some worse place, if he ever afterwards ventured to renew -his practice of "snickling" hares, he steadily resolved to "work like -his father and his brother Ned," as Farmer Dobson advised. Dick's views -on the Game Laws never altered; but he felt, after this sorrowful -experience, it would be worse than folly to dream of violating them -with impunity, in a country where "the rich all hung together on their -own side of the wheat sack," as Kiah Dobson had observed. Now and -then, when he happened to have shaken hands too freely with his old -acquaintance Sir John Barleycorn, even years after his imprisonment, -Raven Dick would be liable to relapse into some shade of his old -feeling, and putting on a "gallows-look," as the landlord of the -Harrows and Plough, in Froddingham, used to call it, he would threaten -to return to his old trade. But there was one saying which, when -"passed about" on the long settle of the public-house, was always sure -to raise a hearty chorus of laughter at Dick's expense, and to have the -effect of dispelling, in a twinkling, all Dick's dreams of having more -"fun:" it was—"Who scratched the Bull?" - - - - -TIM SWALLOW-WHISTLE, THE TAILOR; -OR, -"EVERY DOG HAS HIS DAY." - - -Tim Swallow-whistle, the tailor, lived at Horncastle, a thriving little -agricultural town in the centre of Lincolnshire, and now well-known -even to the verge of Europe for its prodigious yearly horse fair, to -which Russ and Pruss, Netherlander and Austrian, Frenchman, Swiss, -and Italian, with even, at times, the turban'd Turk, may be beheld -flocking to purchase from the rare show of steeds: "but let that -pass!" Tim was not one of your fashionable tailors, it is true, but he -was reckoned an "uncommon neat hand" at his trade. Indeed, old Cocky -Davy, who was a very emperor among the Lincolnshire tailors, always -declared Tim to be the cleverest apprentice that ever received his -indentures at his hands. Old Cocky—he was so termed on account of the -particular loftiness of his carriage—Old Cocky had one especial maxim; -it was, "Strike your needle dead, you dog; and make your thread cry -'twang!'"—and no one apprentice that ever sat upon Davy's shop-board -so fully gratified his master by the gallant and complete style in -which he fulfilled this maxim, as did Tim Swallow-whistle. Cocky Davy -was often heard to say—ay, and to swear it too, when in his cups—that -it did his heart good to see the masterly manner in which Tim used -to strike the cloth. And then, for finishing a button-hole, "Good -heavens!"—Cocky Davy would declare in the White Swan parlour, when the -clock was on the stroke of twelve—"why, Tim could turn the thing off -his fingers with every cast of the thread as regular and exact as if -he had worked it by geometry;" and then Cocky would thump his pewter -tankard with vehement force upon mine host's white wooden table, and -call to have it refilled for the last time that night. - -It may easily be guessed that Tim Swallow-whistle was not only a clever -hand, but a hard-working lad, while an apprentice, or otherwise he -would not have worn such excelling commendations from a master who -was quite as frequently found in the parlour of the White Swan as in -his own shop, and therefore found it of incalculable value to himself -to possess an apprentice who would work hard while his master played. -Now, as a loitering apprentice usually makes a worthless, idle man, so -a diligent lad is almost invariably found to carry his early habits -of industry into mature life, and to make a stirring and prosperous -citizen, unless some untoward circumstances arise to bereave him -of the power for exertion, or to deprive him of its legitimate and -well-deserved fruits. - -Tim Swallow-whistle did not belie the promise of his youth. He was full -forty years old when the incidents occurred we are about to relate; -and up to that time, as he used himself to say, "Nobody could ever say -he had an idle bone in his skin." But, let a man be as industrious -and well-disposed as he may, ten to one but somebody or other in this -crooked world will be found determined to find fault with him. So it -was with Tim: he "minded his own business" most emphatically; for he -was regularly found on his shop-board every morning, winter or summer, -as the clock struck five; and he seldom quitted it before seven at -night, unless on some special holiday occasion: he "paid every one -their own"—that is to say, he kept no scores, either at the baker's, -the butcher's, the grocer's, or at the alehouse: he had a whole coat -on his back—though there was, here and there, a patch in it of his -own neatest style of repair: and, to conclude the catalogue of his -competency in his own language, "he had always something to eat when -other folk went to dinner." - -Tim contrived to keep up to this standard of comparative comfort, too, -in spite of a breeding wife, who had stocked his cottage with nine -"small children," though he was not married till he was thirty. With -so many excellences, who could have thought that any one would be bad -enough to attempt to mar Tim's well-earned happiness? But the world -is, what we have just termed it, a crooked world; and so poor Tim was -doomed to meet with undeserved annoyance. - -Just opposite Tim's little shop lived a great professor of -sour-godliness. Unluckily, he was not only of the same homely trade -with Tim, but was enabled to hold up his head more loftily among his -fellow-tradesmen, by reason that a maiden aunt happened to die and -leave him a neat little freehold that brought him in 50_l._ a-year, in -addition to his earnings by the shears, needle, and thimble. Jedediah -Prim—for so was this fortunate tailor called—was adjudged by his -neighbours to be ill-disposed towards his poorer brother snip, solely -because Tim had always sufficient employ for himself and an apprentice, -whereas Prim's manners were so uninviting, and his character so mean, -that he barely ensured occupation for his own solitary needle. - -Since Prim, at heart, was a worshipper of Mammon above all other -gods, it was not at all wonderful that he felt envious at his -neighbour's trade. Nevertheless, Prim ever affected the greatest -scorn of these neighbourly charges of avarice and envy, and most -piously averred that he had no other distaste to "the man over the -way," as he called Tim, than that which was created in his soul by -"the ungodly man's profaneness!" "He is every day selling his soul -to Satan by the whistling of the Evil One's own tunes!" was Prim's -godly lamentation over the evil ways of his neighbour. This was a -severe hit at the only kind of recreation in which poor Tim indulged. -He had been a hard whistler, as well as a hard worker, from a lad; -and from the peculiarity of his way of whistling, which very much -resembled an endless twitter, Tim caught the curious _soubriquet_ of -"Swallow-whistle" among his fellow-apprentices at Cocky Davy's, and -kept it to his dying day. - -Now, whistling or twittering are but very humble kinds of melody, but -I care not however lowly or merely imitative may be the degree of the -divine faculty of music that a human creature may be endowed with, I'll -warrant him, there will be something like real nobility of heart or -mind about him, let his vocation and whereabouts in this ill-arranged -world be what it may. And truly, so much might, without hesitancy, -be affirmed of twittering Tim the tailor of Horncastle. With all his -knowledge of the ill-will borne towards him by Prim the puritan, Tim -Swallow-whistle would have sprung off his shop-board like a bounding -fawn, and with a bounding heart of joy, to have done the envious -Jedediah a good turn. Yet, with all his bountiful good-nature, Tim -possessed a fair share of shrewdness. He had lived long enough to learn -that over-weening envy usually overshoots its mark, and most severely -punishes its own voluntary slaves. Thus, of all men in the little town -of Horncastle, Tim Swallow-whistle was least disturbed at what every -one talked of as a scandalous matter, namely, the envy and malevolence -of Jedediah Prim, the religious tailor. "Never mind; 'every dog has his -day!'" Tim would reply, and twitter away again, to every successive -tale his neighbours brought him, about what Prim said, and what Prim -did: for you never knew of two neighbours being "at outs" in your life, -but a host of voluntary messengers, on either side, could be found to -fetch and carry fuel to maintain the heat between them. - -What moved Tim Swallow-whistle more than any other event in his life -was the fact of Prim the puritan being made overseer of the poor, and -throwing Tim's poor old grandmother entirely upon his maintenance. The -aged woman had nearly reached a century of years; and, at the mere -cost of half-a-crown per week to the parish, was nursed in her second -childhood by Tim's widowed mother, who lived in a little cottage, hard -by her son. Tim had willingly, nay eagerly, contributed to supply the -wants of the two aged women through all the difficulties felt by a man -situated as he was, with an increasing family, for there was not a -grain of sordidness in his noble nature; but it was no joke for poor -Tim to have the entire weight of the burthen cast upon him. For several -days after the announcement was formally made him—and pious Prim took -care to have the devilish satisfaction of performing the annoying -business himself—poor Tim suspended his twittering, and "struck his -needle dead" in a savage mood of reflection. Tim's reflection ended, -however, in the way that, with such a heart, it was natural for it -to end,—in the manly resolve that he would work the very skin off -his fingers, and go without a meal every day in the week, rather -than permit his old grandmother to want. "Every dog has his day!" -echoed Tim, recovering his wonted elasticity of spirits; "Jedediah -Prim will not be overseer of the poor for the parish of Horncastle -to all eternity;" and away he burst into a mellifluous twitter that -floated, in the form of "Merrily danced the Quakers," gaily across the -street, and entered into the very "porches of the ears" of Prim the -puritan, much to the deadly annoyance of that heart of envy. During -the continuance of Tim's overture for the day, there entered into his -cottage a travelling tinker, who besought leave of the tailor to light -his pipe. - -"Ay, lad, and welcome," blithely answered Tim; and away he went -twittering his old burthen of "Merrily danced the Quakers." - -"Marry, good faith, maister!" said the tinker, folding his arms and -looking as if he felt inclined for 'a bit of chat,' as they say in -Lincolnshire; "why, that was the very tune my poor old mother was so -fond of! I can't help feeling fond on't, d'ye know, maister; for my -mother was a good mother to me—the Lord rest her soul!" and the -hardy tinker's voice faltered in a way that showed his heart had its -tender place, notwithstanding his rough exterior. Tim's twittering was -arrested; the tinker had touched him on a tender chord, and his whole -heart vibrated, sympathetically. - -"Sit you down a while, friend, and smoke your pipe quietly," said Tim, -pointing to a seat near his shop-board; "I'll tell our Becky to get out -the copper kettle for you to mend as soon as she comes down stairs; we -haven't used it these three years for want o'mending." - -"And times have been too hard for you to have it mended before, I -reckon, maister," said the tinker. - -"Nay, as for that," replied Tim with a smile and a shake of the head, -"they're not much mended now; I find it to be only a cross-grained -world, I'll assure you, friend; but I always make it a maxim to take -things as easy as I can; for, as I always say, 'Every dog has his day,' -and among the rest of the poor dogs one doesn't know but one's own turn -to have a day may come yet." - -"Right, maister, right!" ejaculated the tinker, drawing a full breath -at his pipe, and puffing out a full cloud of satisfaction; "there's -sartainly a comfort in thinking so: yet it isn't a pleasing thing to be -striving to do one's best, and to pay every one their own, and yet to -be trampled upon, as poor folks too commonly are in this world." - -"Very true, friend," chimed in Tim Swallow-whistle, assenting readily -to a remark that reminded him so strikingly of his own experience; -"very true: there's nothing that gives an honest man any uneasiness -equal to that: for my part, I've no wish to be richer or loftier than -my neighbours; but I must say the man must feel it hard who's ill-used, -after striving to do the best he can for everybody as well as himself." - -"Well, you see, maister, it shows that what the Scripter says is true, -'that money is the root of all evil,'" rejoined the tinker; "for you'll -always observe that a man begins to trample upon you as soon as he -happens to begin to get on in the world a little better than yourself." - -"'Tis too often the case, friend," said Tim, not fully approving of the -tinker's sweeping remark, but still feeling the forceful truth of it in -his own case; "and yet I can't understand how it should be so." - -"At any rate, maister," said the tinker, interrupting the other, "one -can understand one thing: that if things could be put more on a level -in this world, there wouldn't be such foul dealings as we see now; for -if one man wasn't allowed to be so much stronger in the pocket than -another, all men would be more likely to gain respect; all this bowing -and scraping of poor to rich would be at an end, I mean." - -"Why, yes," interjected the tailor, stopping his needle when it was but -half way through the cloth and feeling a disposition to be abstracted; -"that's true enough—true enough, friend: but for my part I don't -see how the vast difference between the rich and the poor is to be -remedied. You see it's the nat'ral course of things: some folk are -idle, and others unlucky; while money makes money, when a man once gets -hold on't—that is, if he tries to turn it over, and takes care of it -as it gathers." - -"Just so, maister; that's all very true as far as it goes," rejoined -the tinker; "but I think that's not exactly what the parson calls the -end o' the chapter. I'm but a plain man, and no great scholar; but I -always take Brimmijem and Sheffield in my yearly round, and one hears a -bit o' long headed-talk, maister, now and then in such places: you'll -excuse me if I tell you a little of what I think about these things." - -"Prythee, don't mention that, in that sort of a way," said Tim, -hastily; "I'll assure thee that there's nobody likes a man that speaks -his mind better than I do." - -"Thank ye, maister," continued the tinker; "then I'll tell you what I -think: I think there ought to be a law to compel folk that make money -so fast to use it in making their fellow-creatures happy, instead of -spending it on finery and foolishness." - -"Why, you would make folks kind and good by law then, friend! Hum! I -can't see," disputed Tim, again suspending his needle, and looking -very metaphysically upon the corner pane of his shop window, "I can't -see how that scheme would be likely to succeed. Excuse me, friend, but -I think you are talking about may-be's that'll never fly." - -"Look ye, now, maister," resumed the tinker, laying down his pipe, -raising his hand with the fore-finger pointed, and looking greatly in -earnest to substantiate his theory; "this is my point: God Almighty -made us all of the same flesh and blood, not some of china and the -rest of brown marl: he made us to live like brothers; and if one had -better wit than the rest, it was his duty to use it for the benefit of -all his brothers and sisters, as well as for his own benefit. So, if a -man by money makes money, since he can't do that without the help of -other folk, I maintain that that money ought to be distributed, and all -that it will buy, for the benefit of all, but more especially for the -comfort of those whom the money-maker made use of in making his money." - -"You mean, if I understand you," said Tim Swallow-whistle, looking as -much like a logician as he knew how, in order to keep the tinker in -countenance—"you mean, my friend, that when men with full pockets -employ men with empty ones, and by the labour of the poor make their -full pockets flow over, there ought to be a fairer division of the -profit." - -"That's exactly what I mean, maister," answered the tinker, smiling -with enthusiasm, "you have hit the nail on the head, completely: I -think there ought to be a law, ay, and I think it's more needed than -any other law, to prevent the rich from employing the poor just for -what wages they please, and to so order things that every man who makes -money by other men's labour shall be compelled to give his workmen such -a share of his profits as will enable them and their wives and children -to live in decency and comfort, instead of rich men being allowed to -grow richer and wantoner every day, while their poor slaves go, often, -with naked backs and hungry bellies. Ah, maister," concluded the tinker -in a tone where the heart was heard, "you know little about the real -suffering there is in England; but I can tell you one thing,—and that -is, that in the manufacturing places, where this pinch-gut system is -most felt, thousands say they won't stand it much longer!" - -The tinker ended this speech in a tone of voice so loud that Tim -Swallow-whistle felt prompted to look round him for listeners. To his -great chagrin, Prim the Puritan stood pricking his ears, but a few -yards from Tim's door, with his back turned towards it, but evidently -collecting every seditious syllable uttered by the travelling tinker. -Tim placed his fore-finger significantly to his lips; and the tinker, -marking the direction of Tim's eyes, took the hint, and immediately -turned the conversation to the subject of the copper tea-kettle. The -tailor's wife was called down-stairs; the kettle was produced; the -bargain was readily struck; and the tinker proceeded, out of doors, -with his vocation. Tim Swallow-whistle, meanwhile, being left to -uninterrupted reflection, turned over and over again, in his mind, the -weighty thoughts which had been started by the traveller. Tim could -not easily quell the indignation against money-making oppression which -the tinker's tale had raised within him; and the plain man's plain -reasoning, respecting the rights of the labouring poor, appeared to him -uncontradictable; yet all his sympathies for the distressed yielded, -at length, to the strength of his common sense, and the consciousness -that, care as much as he might, he could not alter the state of the -oppressed:— - -"The world is _as it is_," said Tim to himself, mustering up as much -wisdom as he was master of; "it has not been right this many a long -year, if all that our forefathers said can be true: and, what's worse, -one doesn't see much chance of its being speedily set to rights. But -what's the use of grumbling at it, day after day? that would only -whitter the flesh off one's poor bones. No, no; what the man says is -true enough, no doubt," concluded the soliloquising Swallow-whistle; -"but I will not make myself uneasy about what I can't mend: at least I -won't any further than I can help. Let the world wag! I'll try to make -myself as easy as I can in it, with all its awkwardness. Every dog has -his day,—and perhaps mine will come yet." - -This was no elevated moral channel in which Tim's thoughts were running -when the tinker re-entered; but it was one which had served to drain -Tim's heart from the troublous inundation of discontent, amid the toils -and difficulties of his whole mature life. Tim invited the tinker to -take another pipe, and entered on the old subject in a way that showed -his mind was made up. - -"Well, my good friend," he began, "I have been thinking about what has -fallen to your lot to see; and I must take the liberty to tell you, -that although I cannot help feeling grieved for the distress of others, -yet I very much doubt the wisdom of a man dwelling on these thoughts of -sorrow till he feels a disposition to be discontented with every thing -around him." - -"So do I, maister," chimed in the tinker, interrupting Tim,—"so do I: -but when one sees and hears of things that one knows to be wrong, one -can hardly prevent one's sen, you know, from turning 'em over in one's -mind, and trying to think how they could be righted. I'm not a man -given to low spirits, mysen, maister; I contrive to keep my heart up, -and go on; though I don't think the world's quite right, for all that." - -"I'm glad to hear what you said just now," continued Tim: "I assure you -I've some little rough usage to bear; but I always find cheerfulness, -and a disposition to make the best o'things, by far the wisest way of -living." - -"So do I, maister," again burst in the tinker, very much to the -annoyance of the tailor, who wanted to come to the end of his "say," -without interruption—"so do I; only, you know there's no harm in -talking about these things, now and then. And, besides, maister, you -know, the world never will be any better, if we all shut our eyes, and -say we see no wrong in it." - -"Right, very right," replied Tim, a little bit put out of the path -he had intended to take, but still resolved to make direct for his -point, if he could; "I don't deny that: but how long will it be -before the world is bettered, even if we keep our eyes open, and tell -aloud of all the wrong we know in it? You and I are not the first -who have discovered the world to be wrong, depend on't. Tinkers and -tailors," continued Tim, smiling as he proceeded, "have been found -in many countries, as far as my little book-larning informs me, who -have imagined they could repair the rents in the world; but, in too -many cases, these fellows were the very greatest practisers upon the -helplessness of their weaker brethren. As for the few who have been in -earnest, they have usually been silenced, in one way or other, by those -whose interest it was to keep up the wrong in the world. That the world -never will be better," concluded Tim, "I will not undertake to say; -but the day, I fear, is so far distant, my good friend, that you and I -will neither of us be likely to live to see it. Don't take it amiss; -but I can't help thinking so." - -The tinker was ready with an answer; but two customers of Tim's here -came in, and the travelling tinker, thinking that it would be both -ill-mannered and wearisome to the tailor for him to stay, and attempt -to renew the conversation, wished Tim "Good day," and prepared to set -out again on his journey. Tim extended his hand, and returned the -tinker's friendly gripe in a way that told the traveller his few strong -hints would be thought of on another day. - -With all Tim Swallow-whistle's shrewdness, he was perfectly free -from craft. The thoughts created in his mind by this conversation -with the travelling tinker naturally found their way, now and then, -into his exchanges of opinion with his customers. Prim the Puritan -was not slow in learning this: in fact, his evil nature had plotted -Tim's destruction from the moment that he overheard the conversation -between Tim and the tinker. Spies were sent to draw the tailor out; -and, eventually, poor Tim was set down in the day-book of every -influential man in Horncastle as a "dangerous and seditious fellow." -From that day, poor Tim Swallow-whistle's business began to decline. -The trial was a bitter one to Tim; for his aged grandmother sank -to the grave, beholding the clouds of adversity gather around her -grandchild's dwelling; but, in the serenity of death, steadfastly -directed her weeping descendant to trust in uprightness, and it would -be his comfort. Then his mother sickened and died,—yielding, after a -hard struggle, to the Last Enemy, but expiring with an exultant smile, -after assuring her child that her own greatest consolation was that she -had been dutiful to her mother, and she was confident he would yet see -bright days as the reward of his spotless filial piety. - -In vain Tim asked for parochial relief in the hour of his sore -straitness, when his wife's health failed with the labour of waiting -upon her sick relatives, and when Tim's earnings dwindled to a starving -pittance by reason of his being compelled to wait upon those around -him that could not help themselves. Prim held the purse-strings of the -parish tight. Tim fasted often when his neighbours fed, and fed well: -but he never despaired. "Every dog has his day," he still thought, but -refrained from saying much, and still battled with thoughts that would -have unmanned him. - -Tim was repeating to himself his old adage one afternoon, about six -months after his mother's death, when the clergyman of the parish -entered his cottage, and, to Tim's indescribable surprise, desired Tim -to take the measure of him for a new suit! Now the fact was, that the -clergyman was, necessarily, more than once in Tim's dwelling during -the successive illnesses of his grandmother and mother; and, although -prejudiced against the tailor, from the reports circulated to his -detriment, yet he was too sensible a man not to use his opportunities -of scrutinising Tim's real character, and too much a gentleman, in the -best sense of the word, to permit a poor but worthy man to suffer if his -own help could avail to relieve him. The clergyman saw that Tim wore his -heart too much on the outside of his waistcoat to be a rogue; and the -clergyman determined to help Tim by his patronage and his "good word." - -The prejudices against Tim, however, were not dispelled all at once, -though many began to look upon him with new eyes when they heard that -the town-parson had actually given him orders for a new suit. The -climax of the poor tailor's sorrows was now, however, gone by; and the -future was preparing for him its triumphs and joys. One event gave him -some trouble; but what kind of trouble? Ah! it was of that kind which -is most truly troublous to a heart which has struggled to train itself -into correctness. The termination of Prim's two years of overseership -arrived, and the parish vestry would not pass his accounts, having -discovered him to be guilty of an immense embezzlement! Tim had real -trouble with his own heart throughout the whole of the day on which he -first learnt this fact. Exultation over his old enemy was the feeling -that strove to be uppermost; but Tim virtuously kept it down. - -Succeeding years displayed a striking contrast in the lives of Tim -Swallow-whistle and Prim the Puritan. The houses which the cheating -overseer had recently bought with the fruits of his fraud were sold to -raise law-expenses; even his aunt's freehold went to the hammer for the -same purpose: and Prim only escaped a prison by some technical flaw in -the wording of the proceedings taken out against him. He was ruined, -however, and became comparatively a beggar, while his character sank -for life. Tim's honesty and industry, on the other hand, raised him -daily in the estimation of his neighbours. Competence, amounting, at -length, well-nigh to wealth, beamed upon him, and, ere his grey hairs -went down to the grave, he lived to leave a crown-piece, often, at the -door of the ragged and wretched man who was once his envious persecutor -and the oppressive overseer.—Tim Swallow-whistle preserved, even to -his dying day, that nobility of heart which forbade him to triumph -over a fallen enemy; but he would often repeat, half mechanically, -to himself, when passing from the poverty-stricken door of Prim the -Puritan, "_Every dog has his day_." - - - - -DAVY LIDGITT, THE CARRIER; -OR, -THE MAN WHO BROUGHT HIS NINEPENCE TO NOUGHT. - - -Louth, sixty years ago, as now, was the handsomest as well as the -largest town in the north of Lincolnshire, though you would not -then have seen in it, as you may now, if you go that way, a dashing -mail-coach, with a dashing red-coated and gold-laced guard, dash off -and dash in daily to and from Rasen, and Gainsborough, and Sheffield. -"Long" Ludforth, too—(they spell it "Ludford" on the maps; but, -doubtless, they who live there know better the name of the place -than your mere map-makers!)—Long Ludforth, too, was nearly as -deserving of its name, then, as now. And, in default of all other -means of conveyance for goods and passengers, Davy Lidgitt, the -carrier, traversed the ten miles of distance between the village and -market-town "every Wednesday and Saturday—twice a week, regular," -as the inscription read on the front of his neat tilted cart; for -your new-fangled way of sticking the carrier's name on one side of -his vehicle had not then been invented by the tax-making gentry at -head-quarters. - -Davy Lidgitt was excelled in diligence and punctuality by never a -carrier, even in those diligent and punctual times, and gained the -universal respect of his employers, and, what was of more solid value, -a neat little independence, to boot, as the reward of his life of -industry and uprightness. Davy,—it should be "Old Davy;" for that -was the name by which he was known for the greater part of his public -life,—Old Davy would have felt himself to be a happy man could he have -regarded young Davy, his son, as one who was likely to tread, morally -as well as physically, in his steps. But Old Davy Lidgitt, like all -other mortals, lacked the single ingredient in his cup which could give -it the power of making his bliss complete on this side the grave. - -Not that young Davy was idle, or profligate, or devoid of wit, -according to some people's acceptation of the term. In fact, the -majority of the plain villagers of Long Ludforth agreed that, "if -aught, young Davy Lidgitt had ower much wit for one of his calling." -And, for activity, few could match young Davy. From a mere child he -aspired to wield his father's long whip, and at ten years old could -manage the brown mare and the black horse that composed the carrier's -team as well as Old Davy himself could manage them. Moreover, he was -always to be found about the cart or the stable, at the market-town, -when the goods were delivered, and could never be tempted to spend -either his time, health, or money at the ale-tap. Up to the age of -five-and-twenty,—when Old Davy, at sixty, fully retired to enjoy -the brief remnant of life in the snug but small cottage he had -purchased,—young Davy had not failed to accompany his father as -regularly as Wednesday and Saturday returned in each week to Louth -and back, attending so rigidly and cleverly to every item of parcel -and package, letter and message, that the villagers would one and all -declare "young Davy Lidgitt had a head like an almanack!" - -"Why, what in the world, then, could it be," you will ask, "that caused -old Davy to look upon a lad, with his son's commendations, in the light -of disparagement?" If the truth must be told, we must begin at the -beginning. Young Davy showed sundry symptoms of a disposition that his -father did not like, even when a child: he would hook the gears one day -in one mode and another day in another, often to the provocation of -some such harsh exclamation on the part of the senior Lidgitt, as—"'Od -rabbet thee! thou'st been at thy kickshaw tricks again, with the old -mare's belly-band: she'll be kicking thy busy brains out some of these -days!" And many a kick, to say troth, young Davy received for these -"kickshaw" tricks: but he persevered, with the belief that the way of -harnessing a cart-horse might be improved. Yet his father could never -discern that either in this or any other of his displays of genius, -such as clipping or tying the manes of the horses in whimsical forms, -or hanging their collars, and halters, and so forth, in "apple-pie -order," as the old man called it, in the home stable—I say, old Davy -could never arrive at the conclusion that young Davy, in any of these -intended "improvements" ever effected a real one. - -"But, Lord love thee, Davy!" Betty Lidgitt would usually say, when -her spouse had been relating his boy's latest whim, in her ears, at -supper-time,—"Lord love thee, Davy, he's only a child; and thou knaws -childer will be childer: one can't set old heads upo' young shouthers: -he'll give over with his meagrims when he grows older: thou wants -patientness, Davy,—patientness! Thou knaws I tell'd thee so, before we -were married!" - -These pleasant motherly excuses for the lad quieted the father for some -years; but, one day, when the young "Reformer" had proceeded so far as -to take away the horse-shoe from the door-jamb,—that mystic surety of -good luck to the cottage by the opinions of every inhabitant of Long -Ludforth, and which the parson had never said was wrong,—old Davy -could forbear no longer to put into execution a resolve that had been -for some months forming in his mind. - -"Betty! I'll take him to Wise Tom, and have his planet ruled!" said he, -"for I feel sartain and sewer some'at isn't right about the lad: he's -the very devil for mischief! Lord ha' marcy on us, if the young varment -hasn't tucken the horse-shoe away now! some'at will be happening us I'm -sewer!" - -And, on the following Monday morning, when his team had rested a day -after their usual Saturday's travel, old Davy Lidgitt arose betimes, -and, calling up his son, set forth with him on the way to Welton, to -visit the astrologer. - -It will be long before the memory of old Tom Cussitt, "the wise man of -Welton," will be forgot in Lindsey. "Cusworth" was his proper name, -but old Lindsey folk made it a rule to shorten folks' names when they -had to use them often, and there were few names more frequently in -a peasant's mouth, at that time of the day, for twenty miles round -Louth, than that of "Tom Cussitt." Good Lord! if one were to tell all -the stories one has heard of his discoveries of stolen goods by the -stars; of the marks he was wont to put on the thieves, that the owners -of the goods might know the rogues when they saw 'em; of the wondrous -way in which he could show a love-sick maiden her future husband in the -old-fashioned witch-looking mirror that hung in his darkened room; and -of the strange facts he foretold to some people, when he "cast their -nativities,"—that mystic process in which he never erred a hair's -breadth,—why, it would take a twelvemonth to go through the labour! -But, to attend to old and young Davy. It was but half-a-dozen miles -from Long Ludforth to Welton, and so they and their little team were -soon there. - -Young Davy, it may be guessed, gazed hard at the "Wise Man," and -thought him an awful-looking personage, though Tom Cussitt was, at that -time of day, a somewhat handsome-looking man. His fine clear blue eye -was not, as yet, overhung with those bushy, unsightly brows that marked -him in old age; his fair, ruddy skin was not, as yet, disfigured and -concealed by the filthy long gray beard he afterwards wore; nor had -his fine manly height yet contracted a stoop. Old Davy had often seen -Wise Tom before, having frequently conveyed customers to his cottage, -and therefore he did not stare at him with wonder or surprise, like the -lad. As for Tom, he, of course, stared at neither father nor son, being -quite prepared, like Sidrophel, to say to every comer— - - "I did expect you here, and knew, - Before you spake, your business, too." - -Not that Tom Cussitt was one of your ordinary conjurers,—your mere -schemers who take up the trade to scrape a shilling from the gulls -among mankind. Many a rich man has gone from Tom's door without being -able, although he proffered pounds to the star-gazer, to obtain one -syllable from him in solution of the great problem of futurity which -the rich man desired so much to know. Nor did Tom usually set about -the process of solving a "horary question," or "telling a fortune," -with the imposing forms of books and almanacks. On some special -occasions he would resort, like other clerks of the starry craft, to -these learned appearances; but, more customarily, a single strong -pithy remark, or two, delivered over his pipe, and in the course of a -general conversation in which he engaged his visitors, comprised the -gist of his prophecy respecting the future life of an inquirer, or of -his direction for the recovery of stolen goods or chattels. Whatever -might be the wise man's own confidence in the rules of prognostication -by the stars, every shrewd observer noted that the prophet delivered -his oracles rather by the gauge and admeasurement which his strong -common sense enabled him to form of human character, and the accuracy -by which it enabled him to judge of circumstances, than by any exercise -of mathematical or other description of learned skill. - -Old Davy was too full with the budget of young Davy's vagaries to need -much craft on the part of one who wished to draw him out. The Wise Man -quickly kenned what kind of stuff the young chap was made of, and did -not feel that it required any great exercise of his wisdom to ken it, -either. Old Davy, however, with all his fears for the lad's capricious -inclinations, and their probable consequences when he himself might -be lain in the grave, was scarcely prepared for the stunning severity -of the single definitive sentence wherewith Wise Tom summed up his -prophecy of young Davy's "fortune." - -"Well, then, Maister Cussitt," said Davy the elder, taking his pipe -from his mouth, after the lapse of an hour's chat, "and so what do you -think of him? I've tell'd you the day, I'm sewer, quite exact; and I've -told you the hour at which Betty brought him into the world, as near as -I can remember." - -"Reach us a spell, my lad!" said Cussitt to the younger Davy, and -pointed to a neat wire case that hung against the wall, and contained -long strips of paper wrapped up for pipe-lighters. - -"You'll want two," said the very sharp lad, "for my fayther's pipe's -out, an' all!" - -"Is it, lad?" said old Davy, looking eagerly into the head of his -pipe. "Lord! what eyes thou hast! there's nothing can 'scape thee, I -declare!" And he chuckled with pleasure at his boy's acuteness. - -"And so what think you, then," he asked again—"what think you, Maister -Cussitt, will be our Davy's luck?" - -Young Davy had just lighted the two spells, had held them to the pipes, -severally, and had thrown the papers, neither of them half consumed, -upon the fire. - -"Think!" exclaimed the wise man, eyeing the youngster fiercely, and -glancing at the father with a look that seemed to ask if there was now -any need to tell what he thought—"think!" said he; "why, that he'll -bring his ninepence to nought!" And he thrust his middle finger into -the pipe-head to put out the fire in the tobacco, and placed the pipe, -sternly, on the mantle-piece. - -Old Davy's face fell; and he also laid down his pipe. Tom Cussitt -took his large-skirted hat from the peg, called to his maid for the -milking-kit, and prepared, according to his wont, to go forth and milk -his cows; for he followed husbandry in humble and industrious style -during the greater part of his life, notwithstanding his astrological -profession. "Good morning, Davy Lidgitt!" he said; and left father and -son, alike wonder-stricken, by the fire-side. - -There, however, they did not remain many minutes, but were on their -way to Ludforth; and a melancholy way it seemed to old Davy. Betty -Lidgitt felt as melancholy as her husband when he had related Tom -Cussitt's laconic prophecy. Yet she strove to comfort her spouse with -the encouraging remembrance, that "the Wise Man had not said much; and, -for the little that he did say, why, belike, it was meant more for -caution than aught worse." Old Davy was willing to think so, but could -not succeed in persuading himself of it; and, indeed, young Davy showed -"too much of the cloven foot," as his father somewhat sourly said, at -times, "to lead a body to think that the imp of mischief would ever -leave him;" so that, to his dying day, poor old Davy would, ever and -anon, sigh over his remembrance of Tom Cussitt's short but sorrowfully -significant saying. - -The story would become tiresome by going over the catalogue of a -thousandth part of young Davy Lidgitt's doings in the "improving way," -during the dozen years that intervened between the visit to the Wise -man of Welton and old Davy's retirement from business as a carrier. -Nor is it needful to chronicle similar deeds of the son that occurred -from that period to the day of the father's death,—though some of -these latter sorely harassed the old man's temper,—especially young -Davy's purchase of coloured collars for the horses, and a fancy tilt, -that cost thrice the price of the old one, and let in the rain! It was -when old Davy was "safe under the sod," as the sexton said when he had -finished the covering of his grave, and clapped it soundly with his -spade in token of admiration for his own work,—it was then that young -Davy began to let all the world in Long Ludforth see there was a man -amongst them that possessed brains. - -First, the "reformer" pulled down his father's low cottage, and engaged -a swaggering builder to erect a tall four-storied house of brick, -with a slated roof, on the same spot, taking in the little spot that -had glowed so delightfully for many a year with roses, and pansies, -and marigolds. True, the purse of two hundred spade-aces, left by his -economical parent, did not suffice to finish the house in the style he -had devised; so he warned the bricklayer to stop at three stories, -and to leave out some of the fantastic stone ornaments he had procured -at Louth. He sold the ornaments and some of the other extra materials -which had already been brought upon his premises; but he permitted a -tradesman to take them on credit, and was never paid for them. Then, -finding the house was likely to remain unroofed for lack of money, he -was constrained to go a-borrowing; but the errand and the reception he -met reminded him strongly of one of his old father's sayings, which -he used to think very simple when the old man was alive,—"He that -goes a-borrowing goes a-sorrowing!"—but young Davy did not think the -proverb quite so simple, now. The farmers shook their heads at him, -wherever he went, and said "No;" without a syllable of preface or -addenda. And as for the monied men at Louth, they had all taken their -gauge of young Davy Lidgitt, as well as the Wise Man of Welton; and the -"man of improvements" could only borrow on a hard mortgage. - -"And who are you to put into this new house when it is finished, -_Mister_ Lidgitt?" asked Grumley, the grocer, of Louth, very politely, -one day, as he was riding past, and saw young Davy standing by to look -at the builders. - -Young Davy looked foolish at the question; for, having neither father -nor mother, brother nor sister, in the world, he could only answer -that he had no one to put into it but himself. - -The grocer earnestly begged his company to dinner, when he next -came to Louth; and young Davy felt so much flattered by so unusual -an invitation, that he instantly accepted it. And young Davy found -Mr. Grumley very cordial, and Mrs. Grumley exceedingly kind,—but, -above all, the _Misses_ Grumley were the most interesting creatures -he had ever seen! The eldest, especially, won his respect,—or, he -did not exactly know what to call it,—for he had thought more about -improvements in horses, and carts, and stables, and houses, than -aught else, all his life. But the eldest Miss—_the_ Miss Grumley, by -emphasis of courtesy—talked so sensibly about the clever improvements -that young Mr. Brown had made in his farm-house, at Raithby, now his -father was dead; and how he had married Miss Green, the chandler's -daughter, and had bought such a nice gig! - -To tell the reader at once, what he plainly sees is about coming to -pass, young _Mister_ Davy Lidgitt married _Miss_ Grumley; and he also -bought a nice gig—but it was bought on credit! - -Proceeding with his "reforms" and "improvements," Davy turned _daily_ -carrier from Long Ludforth to Louth, in a smart, light van, having -disposed of his father's old cart. But now young Davy began _to -think_,—not willingly, but perforce,—for bills were pouring in -upon him that he could not pay. But Mr. Grumley was ready to _join in -a note_, since young Davy had already performed that kindness, more -than once, for his father-in-law. Still young Davy was compelled to -think; for, more than once, his grand _daily_ trip in the new van to -Louth did not afford freightage enough to cover the expense of the two -toll-gates which "improvement" had set up between Long Ludforth and -Louth market-place. So Davy fell off to "every other day" as a carrier. -This was his first retrograde "reform," but, alas! it was not his last. - -Expenses daily became heavier. Mrs. Lidgitt was gay when a grocer's -daughter in a market town; but she felt it requisite and becoming to -"take the lead" in dress, since her settlement in a village, where the -affair, too, was so comparatively easy. And then, in the course of -two years, two little Lidgitts were squalling about the house; and, -in addition to one regular maid-servant, and an occasional help from -a stable-boy, a nurse was introduced as a constant member of Davy's -household establishment. - -The visit of a lawyer, one day, put the family into a flutter. Davy was -taken aside, and informed that Mr. So-and-so had resolved to call in -his mortgage. Davy's heart sunk, until he thought he must have dropped; -but how overjoyed he became when Lawyer Gripple so cheerfully offered -himself as mortgagee to succeed his client Mr. So-and-so! Yet, when -the new mortgage-deed was completed, Davy found himself, somehow or -other, a hundred pounds more in debt for his house than before! - -Young Davy Lidgitt now began to _think_ more deeply, and proposed -some curtailments of weekly expenditure to his wife; but she wept -so passionately at the mention of them, that Davy's heart smote -him for his cruelty. Then he tried to resolve on lessening his own -"appearances;" but pride gat the better of him, and he dashed along, -till at the end of one more year, Lawyer Gripple suddenly "called in -his money," and followed up the call ere Davy could answer it, or -procure another friend, by taking possession of Davy's house, and -telling him that thenceforth he ceased to be any thing but a tenant, -and for that title must pay him—Lawyer Gripple—twenty pounds a-year. - -Before Davy could recover his surprise at this rapacious deed, Mr. -Grumley failed in very heavy responsibilities, with very small assets, -and young Davy was sent to prison for the debts to which he had pledged -himself on account of his father-in-law. - -To end a sorrowful story as speedily as possible, it remains but -to say, that when poor Davy got out of gaol he found his wife and -her children nearly starving and in rags, and living in a scanty, -down-coming cottage, not half the size of that wherein his father and -mother had lived so many years in contentment and prosperity—his house -was not only entirely gone, but his van and horses were sold, and his -business had passed, months before, into the hands of an industrious -stranger. - -Penniless, sick, and wretched, poor Davy Lidgitt was compelled to apply -to the parish for bread, and he had no alternative but to obey their -direction, and break stones on the road! - -He was beheld in that employ for many years after—a fallen, -broken-spirited man;—and often would the aged women observe to each -other,—as they passed him by to work in the fields, and remembered -Tom Cussitt's prophecy, to which Davy's father would so often recur in -his neighbours' hearing,—"So much for the man who hath brought his -ninepence to nought!" - - - - -THE FISHERMAN AND THE FIDDLER; -OR, -"DON'T SAY SO TILL YOU ARE SURE." - - -It is a long day since Zed Marrowby and Phil Garrett passed quietly -away from this wilderness of confusion and wrong, and their names are -well-nigh forgotten. But they were, each of them, so unlike other folk -in their way of life, and in their old-fashioned habits of thinking and -talking, that there is no wonder they have slipped out of the world's -memory as well as out of the world itself. Two odd old fellows they -were deemed for many a year, albeit there are few happier old fellows, -upon the whole, than they were. And who were they? - -Zed was an humble fishermen on the Trent, and never knew what it was -to be possessed, at once, of twenty shillings in his life. His father -was called Zedekiah, but the son never reached that long-name dignity. -Zed was taught the art and mystery of fishing with an angle, fishing -with set lines and hooks, fishing with nets—in brief, all kinds of -fresh-water fishing, when a boy, by his father,—whose father and -grandfather before him were each and all fishermen. Zed was a bachelor -all his life long, and that means fourscore and five; and Zed never had -but one bosom-friend, and that was blind Phil Garrett the fiddler. - -Phil could not trace his ancestry in an uninterrupted line for several -generations like his friend Zed. In fact, it may seem strange to a -world so wise as the world is now-a-days, but Phil Garrett never knew -who was his own father! His earliest recollections were of hard usage -by all around him save his mother, who herself died of hard usage, and -left him to the ruthless world, a blind orphan at a tender age. There -was as great doubt about Phil's true Christian name as there was about -his parentage: some said it was Philip, and others said it ought to be -Philander; here and there one contended it must be Philibert, while his -godmother, Abigail, inclined to believe it was Philemon, but even she -could not justly remember—for, as she used to say, "the parson quite -took away her recollection of it, by hemming and hawing, and being so -long about the trifling matter of sprinking the child—and all the -while she was pretty sartain the christening-cake would be burnt under -the wood-ashes, for she made it herself, and placed it under the dish -at the last moment, in order that it might not be spoilt while they -were at church." However, Phil contrived to teach himself to play on -the fiddle when a boy, and thereby managed to win his own living, -without ever seeing the sun, or knowing exactly, either his own name, -or the name of his father. - -Zed and Phil were nearly of an age, and became attached to each other -when they were in their teens: indeed, from that period of life they -were inseparable, except on special occasions. It was a singular -companionship, was that of Zed Marrowby, the fisherman, and blind Phil -Garrett, the fiddler. As soon as day broke, through spring, summer, -and autumn, Zed might be seen wending his way among the osiers, on the -banks of old Trent, towards his small narrow boat; and blind Phil, -with his fiddle-case under his arm, might be seen leaning on Zed's -left shoulder, and hurrying along with him. No matter how heavily it -rained, or strongly it blew, the two happy old fellows were as constant -in their time of rising, and of their embarkation, as the sun was in -mounting above the east, unless Phil happened to be engaged for a -wedding or a wake, for the blind fiddler was in high request for all -the rustic rejoicings around Torksey, where the singular companions -lived—I mean, at Marton, and Sturton, and Fenton, and Newton, on -the Lincolnshire side of the Trent; and not less at Laneham, and -Dunham, and Drayton, and Rampton, and Leverton, on the side of merry -Nottinghamshire. - -Winter, you would say, would be but a dreary season for the two old -cronies, since it would put a stop to their voyaging, and, by confining -them within doors, would make them impish and melancholy. But you are -wrong, if you say so. There were nets and lines to make and to mend, -and the past to recount, and the future to reckon upon; and Phil would -play on his fiddle while Zed would sing, and when Phil's arm was weary -with scraping, and Zed's throat was sore with piping, Zed would listen -till he fell asleep with Phil telling ghost-stories and fairy-tales, -and love-ditties and robber-ventures,—all of which he had learned -from his godmother, old Abigail Cullsimple, at once the most famous -herb-woman, midwife, and tale-teller, in her own day and generation, -for threescore miles round about ancient Torksey on the Trent,—nay, -it were perilous to assert that she ever had an equal, in these three -combined qualifications, throughout the whole region of Lindsey. - -It would take some thousands of pages to narrate half the adventures -in rain and fair weather, of the fisherman and fiddler, during their -threescore years of friendship. Let it suffice to take up their -life-story for some two or three days of the last summer they spent -together in this world, commencing with a fine morning in which they -unmoored their little boat somewhat earlier than usual, in order to -reach Littleborough for a wedding, before the turn of the tide. The -morning was such a delicious one, that, old as they were, the two old -voyagers could not restrain their feeling of pleasure at the balmy -and refreshing effect it had upon their weather-beaten frames; and, -blind as poor Phil was, you could not have failed, had you seen his -expressive face when under very pleasurable emotion, to discern that -it scarcely needs the language of eyes to demonstrate the heart's -happiness. Their little skiff darted like a fowl along the stream, so -finely did opening nature seem to nerve the old men's arms, and puff -their little sail; the very fishes seemed scarcely to have time to take -alarm while the oars plashed amid the liquid silver, but darted and -gambolled after each other,—the rapid dace and the delicate bleak, and -the golden-finned perch,—every moment to the surface of the stream, -exulting, as it seemed, in the solar glory. It was a morning to fill -with music every human soul that has any music in itself. The sweet -matin lute of the lark thrilled through the heavens, and the still -sweeter voice of the blythe milk-maid, as she tripped it, fresh and -rosy, over the lea, was heard waking the echoes with her plaintive -love-melody. Zed and Phil were too true children of Nature to disobey -her influences, and thus chanted their hearts' sedate joy, as they bent -at the oar:— - - - "Merrily we go, my man— - Merrily with the tide! - Catch the breezes while you can— - Here we'll not abide! - - Storm and calm will soon be o'er— - Spread the flowing sail! - Lift thy heart with sorrow sore— - Catch the fav'ring gale! - - Wouldst thou weep till set of sun— - From the break of day? - This life's stream will soon be run— - Laugh, then, while you may! - - Mariners in life's frail boat— - Sighs and tears are vain! - Cheerily let's onward float— - Soon the port we'll gain! - - Merrily we go, my man— - Merrily with the tide! - Catch the breezes while you can— - Merrily onward glide!" - -Again and again they doubled the last verse, those brave old voyagers! -until many a milk-maid came up the banks of Trent, leaving her cows -on the lea, to listen more nearly to the merry song they had so often -heard before from the two quaint companions of the fishing-boat. - -The little ferry of Littleborough was at length gained, and Zed leaped -as gaily on shore as if he were yet in his youth, and then handed Phil -out, with his fiddle-case under his arm; and when the skiff was moored, -away they hasted to the "Ferry Boat Inn," as the humble public-house -was loftily termed, and where the intended wedding and merry-making -was about to be held. After half-a-dozen hearty gripes of the hand, -and as many congratulations on their good looks, the two old men were -zealously pressed to "eat and drink, and not spare," by the bluff -landlord. And, nothing loth, Zed and Phil sat down on the long-settle, -and made free with a good hearty beef-steak pie, and a tankard of ale; -and the landlord was ready to fill again ere the latter was fairly -empty. "Don't ye be dainty about it, my hearties," said he, "for the -youngsters will be down-stairs soon; they've been dressing this I don't -know how long; and you'll ha' plenty to do, I warrant ye, when they -happen to find that you're come: so do justice to your fare!" - -And anon the bride that was to be was brought down-stairs by a crowd -of laughing lasses, and, blushing like the May, was placed in a chair -adorned with flowers; and soon the lads burst in with the bridegroom, -all in best array of plush and velveteen; and when he stepped up to -the chaired beauty for a morning's buss, the lads pulled him away -and said "nay;" and then all clapped their hands with delight when -they first saw Zed and Phil in the corner, and all shouted, as if -they were mad, for a good thumping ditty that would put mettle in -their heels. So Phil struck up first "Malbrook's gone to battle," -and then "Gee-ho, Dobbin," and then "Grist the Miller," and then -"She will and she won't," and then, "Nelly is gone to be married;" -and each lad took his lass, and led up or followed the dance to the -capers of Phil's bow, till "The parson's come!" resounded through the -kitchen; and the marriage-procession was immediately formed, and the -kitchen was deserted, for even Zed and Phil went off, the one to -see, and the other to hear, lovely Polly of the Ferry-Boat Inn given -away to sprightly and honest young farmer Brown that morning, at the -neighbouring parish church of Sturton-le-Steeple. - -The ceremony over, and the kitchen regained, feasting, fun, and frolic, -were the order of the day. Phil's fiddle and Zed's throat were worked -till the owners of them could scarcely work longer; and oh, the tales -that Phil told, and the songs that Zed sung, in the course of that -merry wedding-day! why, the like of 'em could not be said or sung by -man or maid, wife or widow, within all Christendom! - -Don't imagine, either, that the fun and frolic were partaken of merely -by the younkers: let me tell you, that even the fat landlord himself, -although verging on fourscore, caught so much of the spirit of the -time, that he jumped up, all of a sudden, after watching the nodding -head and smirking face of Dame Dinah Brown, the grandmother of the -bridegroom, and discerning how she began to fidget, like himself,—I -say he jumped up all of a sudden, and, seizing her hand, whirled her -away, not in the least unwilling, to show the young lads and lasses -that they had not forgotten a quick step, and all that, as old as they -were. And, by Jingo! how all-alive did Phil look, while he screwed up -his catgut for a new strain; and never was any thing seen in mortal -man more wonderful than the ecstatic changes of his blind face, while -he struck up "Green leaves all grow sere!" as an accompaniment to -the frisking feet of Dame Dinah and the fat old landlord. And then -he changed the strain for one of rich merriment, while his sightless -and strangely expressive countenance depicted every shade of wild and -wilder glee, and vibrated throughout its whole surface with every -thrill of the melody and gambol of the bow; insomuch that more than -one youth forgot every thing around, and stood gazing at Phil's face, -thinking they would never forget how it looked, if they lived even to -be as old as Methusaleh. - -On and on the aged dancers skipped, and "crossed" and "set," looking -as gleeful as if they had never known what it was to be grave, until, -streaming with sweat, and fairly wearied out with the mad employment -they had been giving their heels, and to which they had been strangers -for many a long year, they were constrained to sit down, avowing, -meanwhile, that "they only wished they were young again, for then they -would show the youngsters what a bit o' dancing was in their time!" - -When the sun had set, Zed began to feel some degree of uneasiness to -be gone. There was the Trent to voyage, for at least three miles, in -order to reach their home at Torksey, and Zed knew the stream would be -somewhat swollen, but much more he feared the state of his own upper -story, since he had not been able to resist the pressing invitations -and challenges, first of one and then of another, and, consequently, -his potations had been somewhat numerous. Having given Phil the hint, -Phil began to complain of exhaustion as to his tale-budget, and of -the power of his nerves to direct the bow; but it was long ere this -would avail, and many a roaring ditty was launched forth from the -thunder of Phil's catgut, amid the thundering heels of the country -lads and lasses, before the two aged cronies could manage to obtain -leave, once more, to launch their little boat, and strike off for home. -The farewell chords were at last struck, the fiddle was boxed; and, -accompanied to the water's edge by a merry company, Zed and Phil pushed -off from shore amidst the hearty cheers of the merry-makers. Then, each -taking his oar, as usual, away they went with the tide, that now swept -up the river's course. - -Much as they had sung that merry day, the two brave old fellows, -nevertheless, trolled forth more than one ditty before they reached -Torksey; and neither of them suffered any depression of spirits or -strength as they prosecuted their homeward voyage. Zed Marrowby, -especially—and, in good faith his alacrity must be fairly confessed to -have owed its greater intensity to his most frequent potations—Zed, -especially, sprung on shore with the nimbleness of a lad of twenty, as -soon as they arrived in front of the ruins of old Torksey castle, which -stands like a blighted, and yet beautiful thing of the past, beside -the very brink of the noble stream. - -"As sure as a gun, Phil," cried the mellow old fellow, stamping with -vehemence, as he was leading Phil under a propped fragment of the old -fabric, "we'll not go to bed to-night till we've seen whether there be -any gold in these vaults, as the story goes! I've heard you tell the -tale about folks hiding their coin here, in the time of bloody Oliver, -until my patience is worn out. I'm determined, Phil, to know whether -any money can be found here, or not!" - -"Why, zowks, Zed!" exclaimed Phil Garrett, "you're not so mad with that -glass o' rum they gave you before you pushed off as to have taken it -into your head to——" - -"Don't bother me, Phil!" said the fisherman in a pet, "I'm determined -to fish up the gold out of these old vaults before midnight, as late as -it is, and that's the long and short on't!" - -"'Don't say so till you're sure!'" cried Phil, uttering an old saying -that he was very fond of; "how will you dig up the gold, Zed? you have -never a shovel nor a pick-axe, you know." - -"Then I'll soon have both," replied Zed; "you sit down here on this -stone, Phil, and I'll go and slive into the Talbot yard, and I'll -warrant it I'll soon have a pick-axe and a shovel." And off Zed -scampered as fast as his old heels, impelled by his heated head, could -carry him. - -"Bring the dark lanthorn with you!" cried Phil, shouting after him as -loudly as he dared to shout; and then, sitting down on the grass in -lieu of the hard stone, began to think of the oddness and suddenness of -Zed's resolution. "What a fool Zed always becomes when he gets a drop -of rum!" thought Phil to himself; "and, confound it! I feel queerish, -somehow, myself. I wish I had not drunk that tipler o'rum. It was very -foolish of me, for I always tell Zed to stick to good old Sir John -Barleycorn, and then no great harm can come on it. But what's the use -of grumbling and growling at one's self when it's done? I'll e'en make -the best on't, since it is so." And Phil was about to troll forth -another merry ditty, when he remembered that it was near midnight, that -it must be thereabouts pitch dark, and that he was among the ruins of -Torksey Castle, where, according to a queer skin-freezing story he was -wont to tell himself, the lady without the head was often seen to walk -at midnight! So Phil, too muddled to remember that he could not have -seen the headless lady if she had appeared, held his peace, and thought -it was better to keep quiet in such a queer place and at such a queer -time of night. - -Phil had not long to wait for the return of his eccentric companion. -Zed soon was at Phil's side, and, grasping his hand, assured him they -would soon be as rich as Jews with the buried gold. - -"'Don't say so till you're sure!'" again cried Phil: but Zed took no -notice of it, and upheaving the pick-axe, without spending a moment in -considering whereabouts he ought to begin, struck at the ground with -all his might, assisted, not a little, at the first, by his invisible -but potent friend, Dr. Alcohol. - -"Have you begun so soon, Zed?" asked Phil. - -"Ay, to be sure," replied Zed, "I'm in earnest, man, and mean to have -this gold, depend on't." - -"I'faith, it seems as though you did," returned Phil, feeling disposed -to roast his old friend, as they say; "do you find aught yet?" - -"Pooh!" answered Zed, "let me get another foot or so deeper, and then -ask me." - -"Oh, I'm in no hurry," said Phil; "only I thought I might as well be -knowing. But are you tired so soon, Zed?" - -"I'm only just resting a moment," replied Zed; but he was up, and was -working away again with the pick-axe the next minute. Then he took the -shovel and began to clear away the loose earth, so as to be able to -see, by the light of the lanthorn, how deeply he had penetrated the -ground. - -"Do you see aught yet?" asked Phil with a slight titter which he -suppressed as well as he could. - -"Don't be in such a confounded hurry! I didn't think a bit o'gold would -ha' made you so covetous to get at it!" answered Zed, throwing down -the pick-axe, and pretending to be in a pet, though, in reality, it -was the tremendous ache in his back that caused him to throw down an -instrument of labour to which his aged hands were quite unused. - -"Nay, nay, I tell you, I'm in no hurry at all," again retorted Phil; -"only, as I said before, I thought I might as well be knowing." - -"All right, Phil!" cried Zed, in a twinkling of time, "here goes -again!" and struck more savagely at the ground this time than ever; -for, in spite of his affected coolness, the old fisherman began to -feel very impatient. In the course of a very few minutes, however, -Zed was again unable, from sheer weariness, to proceed, and, although -he changed his implement again for the spade, yet his back ached too -violently for him to go on with his gold-finding, so he sat down once -more to rest, and wiped the streaming perspiration from his aged face -with a hand that trembled, as indeed he trembled all over, like an -aspen leaf. - -"Mercy on us!" cried Phil, "how you puff and blow, Zed! Do you begin to -feel ill with your hard work?" - -"Pshaw! how old-womanish you talk!" retorted the fisherman, and started -up again, like a young blood of four-and-twenty. But, somehow or other, -Zed found it quite impossible to get on, the ache in his old back was -so violent. - -"I say, Phil," he said, pausing suddenly, and looking very cunning at -the fiddler,—though the fiddler could not see either the sly wink of -his eye or any other of the signs by which the old fisherman intended -it to be understood that a very shrewd thought had struck him,—"I say, -Phil, what d'ye suppose I'm just now thinking about?" - -"Can't tell exactly," replied Phil, though he had a somewhat knowing -idea of what was coming, for all that. - -"Why, I was thinking——Oh!" said the poor old fisherman, feeling a -twinge in his back so dreadfully excruciating that it forced him to cry -out before he was aware— - -"What! have you found the gold?" asked Phil, bursting into a titter; -"have you found it, Zed?" - -"Found the devil!" exclaimed Zed, growing really ill-tempered at being -thus coolly roasted by his old companion. - -"For Heaven's sake, take care, Zed; or we _may_ find him, with a -witness, in this queer place, and at this queer time o'night!" rejoined -the fiddler; "but what may you be thinking about, after all, Zed?" - -"Why, I was thinking we might cover up this hole, so that no notice -would be taken of it, and then come and finish the job another time," -replied Zed, who felt so much ashamed of what pain compelled him to -say, that he could with difficulty get through his speech. - -"Come, now, sit you down a bit, Zed," said Phil, in a tone of hearty -kindness, that always came over Zed's more boisterous nature with the -power of a sweet lull after a squall,—"sit you down a bit, and let's -have a bit o'talk, while you rest yourself, for I'm sure your old bones -must ache with pain and weariness. Now, I say, Zed, just tell me, will -you, what would you do with this gold if you found it?" - -"Do with it!" exclaimed Zed, staring at the fiddler, though the fiddler -could not stare at him; "what would I do with it, Phil?" - -"Ay, what would you do with it? Are you tired of the old boat, after -we've cruised in her so many long years?" - -"Tired of her! God forbid!" answered Zed, with warmth rendered -ludicrous by his insobriety; "no, Phil! you and I will never forsake -the old boat until our own poor old timbers fall fairly in pieces!" - -"I thought you could not be thinking about that," said Phil; "but what, -then, I say, Zed,—what could you contrive to do with this gold, if you -found it?" - -"We could comfort the hearts of poor Dick Toller's motherless and -fatherless children, and poor Bob Wilson's and Joe Martin's widows with -it, you know, Phil," answered the old fisherman. - -"God bless your old heart, Zed!" cried Phil, grasping his old comrade's -hand, while his voice faltered with deep emotion, "that's spoken just -like you! But I tell you, Zed, it is but a wild scheme to be killing -yourself with trying to find this gold." - -"To speak truth," said Zed, interrupting the other, "I begin to think -so, too: only, you see, Phil, this old head o'mine always turns so wild -when I happen to be such a fool as to take rum when they offer it me. -As you always say, Phil, if one could but have the resolution to stick -to Sir John Barleycorn instead of——" - -"Well, well, Zed, say no more about it," said Phil, remembering that -the transgression was not entirely confined to his friend; "shovel in -the moulds as soon as you can, and let us be making our way home, for -yon's twelve by the church clock, and we mustn't be after sunrise, you -know, to-morrow; 'twill be bad luck if we be, depend on't." - -So Zed shovelled in the earth as fast as his aches and pains would -permit him; and at length Phil threw the pick-axe over his shoulder, -and Zed bearing the fiddle-box, and shovel, and lanthorn, without -spending more time in talking, they hied them home as nimbly as they -could, dropping the pick-axe and shovel over the Talbot yard wall as -they went by, and speedily throwing themselves on their joint bed, when -they had reached it, fell asleep almost in a moment. - -Before the sun arose, however, they were up and in the open air; but -Zed groaned heavily, more than once, as they went along towards the -Trent bank, for his aged bones were very stiff at the joints, as he -said, and he often called himself a fool, inwardly, as he thought of -his wild, money-digging freak of the preceding night. His melancholy, -however, was but transitory. The merry-hearted old men were soon on -their favourite element; the sun began to throw its cheering beams once -more upon the rippling waters; and, as the willows on the banks of the -noble Trent waved in the gentle breeze, and the rich meadows on the -border of the river sent forth their reviving fragrance, Zed lifted up -his head, while his hand plied the oar, and in the fulness of a happy -heart thus opened the conversation for the day:— - -"Well, I wouldn't change places with the king on his throne, Phil; -I don't believe there's a happier pair than you and I, Phil, in the -wide world. And yet, now, as wild a scheme as that was of mine last -night, I cannot help wishing, this morning, that we had some o' that -gold at this moment. I could like to try my hand, Phil, as old and -inexperienced as it is in such work, at making some part of the world -happier." - -"And so could I, Zed," said Phil; "and now don't you think that my -godmother's grandfather's plan of dividing the land would be a good -one, and tend to make the world happier, if it were carried into -effect?" - -"The deuce is in you, Phil, for always bringing up that plan of your -godmother's grandfather!" said old Zed; "why, the plan may be good -enough, Phil; but how can it be brought about?" - -"How can you get the gold?" retorted Phil. - -"Good!" said Zed, with a hearty laugh; "i'faith, Phil, one scheme is as -likely to be brought about as the other: but, take hold of that end o' -the net, Phil, for I see a famous pike or two, darting about; and, you -know, we must try to get something to-day." - -The net was thrown out, but failed; and, what was most unusual, the -labour of Zed and Phil was continued for several hours without the -capture even of a solitary eel. Phil often thought Zed threw out the -net very wildly, and imagined the liquor he took at the wedding had not -yet spent its effects on him; but the blind man could not be sure, for -Zed seemed resolutely taciturn. - -'Twas about ten in the forenoon that Phil felt the little boat was -"brought up,"—he thought in an inlet, or small creek, on the Lindsey -side of the Trent, after they had laboured with nets and lines ever -since a little after sunrise, and all without a single instance of -success.—— - -"Phil, d'ye know why I've pulled in here this morning?" said Zed, as he -was mooring the skiff. - -"No, by'r leddy!" answered the old-fashioned fiddler, "I can't tell, -for the life of me! but it seems to me that you've pulled in at Burton -Folly,—have you not, Zed? and what's the meaning of it?" - -"Look sharp, Phil!" said Zed, briskly helping Phil out of the boat, -"we've had hard luck in the water this morning, but we'll try our luck -on land for once: we'll have one or two of 'Squire Hutton's pheasants -before we leave the holt." - -"'Don't say so till you're sure!'" said Phil, for that was a common -saying with him, as I hinted before; "I wish I could _look sharp_, as -you bid me, Zed,—for I'll be hanged if you are not tearing my poor -legs among the whins, like old pork, as the saying goes." - -"The deuce I am!" exclaimed Zed, slackening his pace; "I wouldn't hurt -you, for all the world, Phil: but you know it's worth while trying to -catch a pheasant or two,—they're such fine game." - -"I don't know, Zed," rejoined Phil, "whether it be worth while or not: -we may get into a scrape by it, as old as we are, and——" - -"Pshaw!" cried Zed, with an air of resolute contempt; "come along, -Phil!—come along!" - -"O come along, ay!" said Phil; "I shall go with you, if you go to -the very devil!—but then I don't see what's the use of going there, -yet,—as old 'Squire Pimpleface used to say, when he gave up playing -cards at Saturday midnight, and refused, ever after to play on Sunday -mornings——" - -"Hush!" said Zed, stopping short,—"my eyes! why, that must be the -gamekeeper! No, it isn't:—but we had better lie down, Phil." - -"Down be it then!" said Phil, prostrating himself among the long grass, -while the old fisherman followed his example. - -"Now, tell me," continued the fiddler, in a whisper, as they lay -along among the grass, and the fisherman was anxiously keeping the -look-out,—"tell me how you intend to catch the pheasants, Zed: -you know you've no gun; and you can't catch 'em with a net in open -day,—besides you haven't brought the net out of the boat, have you?" - -"Pooh!" replied Zed, "why, I've heard my father say that 'Squire -Hutton's pheasants used to be as tame as bantam cocks, even in his -time. We may catch 'em, bless your soul! ay, easily! And, if not, I'm -sure I could hit one and knock it down with my hat." - -The blind fiddler burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter on -hearing this artless declaration from his ancient companion. - -"Zowks, Zed!" he exclaimed at last, "thou hast got some wild maggots, -for sure, into thy head this morning! prythee look out again, and see -if the coast be clear; for the sooner we shove off in the boat again -the better, I'm very sartain." - -"Confound that fellow! he's coming this way," said Zed, in a voice of -alarm. And, indeed, there now seemed to be cause for fear, seeing that -a tall man, with a gun on his shoulder, was hastening down the hill, -apparently in a direction towards the foolish hiding-place of the -fiddler and the fisherman. - -"What shall we do, Phil?" asked Zed, in the next breath. - -"Cut and run!" cried Phil, and sprung up as nimbly as a hare when you -stumble upon her seat. - -"Come along, then!" said Zed; and, seizing his blind companion by the -hand, away they galloped, as fast as their old limbs would wag down the -declivity, to the boat. - -Zed pushed Phil, head over heels, into the skiff, and, jumping in -himself, scudded away out of the creek as fast as he could possibly -"scull," or turn the oar, at the boat's stern, after the manner of -a screw, in the water. The gamekeeper came up the water-side, and -approached within a few yards of the boat, before the adventurers could -make their way back into the broad Trent. - -"You are two very old men," said he, lifting up his hand in a warning -manner, "or I would certainly detain you, and have you indicted for -trespass. Take care you are never found here again!" - -Neither of the old men made a word of reply; and the gamekeeper walked -away. - -"Detained us!—would he?" said Zed, in a low, but contemptuous tone, as -soon as they had gained the breadth of the river, and the gamekeeper -was sufficiently out of hearing,—"how could he have done that, if he -had tried, think you, Phil?" - -"Never mind talking about that, Zed,—let us be content with having -got out of a scrape," answered blind Phil: "but now tell me, Zed," he -continued, putting an oar on one side of the boat, and taking his -share of labour with as easy naturalness as if he had possessed the -most perfect eyesight,—"what it could be that put such a wild notion -into your head as to lead you to think of catching a pheasant with your -hand, or of knocking it down with your hat:—why didn't you take a bit -o' salt to throw on its tail, Zed?" concluded the fiddler, and burst -into another fit of helpless laughter. - -"He—he—he!" said the fisherman, forcing a faint laugh, to conceal -his shame and vexation;—"never mind,—never mind that, Phil!" he -said,—"my old head gets weak, or I might ha' been sure it would be a -fool's errand. Was not it a mighty piece of impudence in that thief -of a gamekeeper, think you, to tell us he had a mind to indict us for -'trespass,' as the Jack-in-office called it?—what harm could we do, -Phil, by just trampling among the grass for a few minutes?" - -"Poor folks are not allowed to tread upon rich folks' land, you know, -Zed, without their leave," said the fiddler. - -"No; but isn't it hard that there should be such a law, Phil?" said the -fisherman. - -"Why, as for that, Zed," replied Phil, "my godmother's -grandfather,—who, my godmother used to tell me, was a famous scholar -in his day,—used to say that all the land belonged to every body, and -that nobody ought ever to have called an acre his own, in particular. -If that had been the case, you see, Zed, the gamekeeper could not have -threatened to indict you and me for trespass this morning." - -"No more he could, Phil," rejoined Zed; "but, then, if the land -belonged to every body,—in such a way that nobody could say an acre -belonged to him, only,—why, how would the land be ploughed and the -grain sown,—for you know the old saying, Phil, 'What's every body's -business is nobody's business?'" - -"My godmother's grandfather used to say that people ought to join in -companies to do it," replied Phil: "it's a subject I am not master of -to the extent he was, by all account; but I feel sure of one thing, -Zed,—that the world could not have been much worse divided than it is -at present, since the rich have so much land among them, and the poor -have none." - -"You are right there, Phil, beyond a grain o'doubt," rejoined Zed. - -"And my godmother's grandfather used to say besides," continued the -fiddler, "that God Almighty gave the world to every body, and that the -rich had stolen the poor's share of the land—for God Almighty never -left them destitute." - -"Then, in that case, Phil," said the fisherman, "there is a share, -each, belonging to you and to me: and then it seems doubly hard to be -told, when your own share has been stolen from you, that you shall be -indicted for trespassing upon the land of one that has more than his -share—doesn't it, Phil?" - -"Right, Zed, right!" returned Phil; "I'm pleased to find you relish -a bit of sensible talk, now and then; and can you deny, now, that -that plan of my godmother's grandfather would be a real good one, and -tend to make every body happy. Place all the folks in the world on a -level, Zed,—and let every man take his fair share in ploughing and -tilling, you know, Zed,—and then let every man share in cutting the -corn,—and all would have a fair title to eat it. You must see this to -be fair—quite fair, Zed?" - -"Fair enough, no doubt," replied the fisherman; "but then, Phil,—as I -always ask you, but you never answer me,—how can you contrive to bring -all this about?" - -"Nay, now, you don't argue fair!" answered Phil; and it was the only -answer he had, like many more learned proposers of good theories. - -"A plague on all such gibberish!" exclaimed Zed, "we shall want but a -small share of any thing long, and if we don't get our fair six feet -of land when we have done sailing, why, we can rest very well in Davy -Jones's locker. Where's the use of bothering our old brains with such -crabbed matters?" - -"Ods bobs and bodikins!" replied Phil, "but I think you are about -right, Zed: I must own it's only a simple sort of a thing for you and -I to be troubling our heads about great folks and their lands." - -"I' faith, you talk sense, Phil!" said Zed; "confound the great folks! -let 'em take their land! We've managed to push along through threescore -summers and more, and we can manage to get through, I think, now. But, -swape in, Phil! for we're just alongside Littleborough again, and I'm -so hungry that I feel inclined to step on shore, and ask for a bite of -the wedding-cake this morning: I'll warrant 'em they'll be keeping up -the merriment yet." - -"Promise me one thing, though, Zed," said Phil,—"that you'll take no -more rum, if they offer it you, and that you won't stay longer than a -couple of hours or so." - -"Don't think I shall play the fool twice over!" retorted Zed; "I'll -warrant it I'll come away as sober as a judge this time, and take no -more fool's tricks into my head to-day." - -"'Don't say so till you're sure!'" observed Phil, in his usual sly way; -but Zed did not answer, for they were now at shore, and the fisherman -had leaped out, and was once more mooring the little boat. - -It is hardly necessary to relate that Zed found it impossible to keep -his hasty promise of a very short stay, seeing that the "Weddingers" -were "keeping it up" in true old-fashioned style, and Phil's fiddle -became, right soon, the very soul of their merriment. Phil, however, -had made his mind up, and succeeded, though with great effort, in -getting his old companion once more fairly afloat and on the way home -about an hour before sunset. Although Zed had, indeed, the virtue to -refuse the parting cup of rum, when it was offered, yet his old noddle -was far from being its own perfect master, by reason of his frequent -revisitations of the ale-pottle; and the first mile on the water was -all music of the most gleeful nature with the old voyagers. "Indeed," -as Phil himself used to say, when talking about it, "we had each of us -whetted our whistles till will-ye, nil-ye, we must pipe, and couldn't -help it!" They were trolling forth, for the last time, their old -burthen of - - "Says I to myself, says I, - Though I can't laugh, I won't cry; - Let 'em kill us that dare; they're all fools that care: - We all shall live till we die!" - -when the report of a gun, and the sudden flight of a drooping heron -across the Trent, arrested their music. - -"By Jingo! she's a dead bird, in three minutes!" exclaimed Zed; "mark -how her right wing droops, Phil!" - -"I wish I could mark it," said Phil; "but you always forget that my -poor old eyes are blanks, when you've——" - -"There she goes, plop among the osiers!" cried Zed, in an ecstasy; -"pull away to the larboard, Phil. I'll have her in a twink." - -"'Don't say so till you're sure!'" observed Phil, but pulled away like -a dragon in the direction recommended by his companion, nevertheless. - -Zed leaped out of the boat in a confounded hurry, when he thought it -was near enough for him to gain the shore; but he leaped out too soon, -for he fell flat on his face among the "warp," as the mud of the Trent -is called in Lincolnshire, and floundered like a flat fish when it has -been left by the water in a situation where it cannot get away. - -"Holloa! what, in the name o' bad luck, are you about?" cried Phil, -hearing poor Zed make a mighty scuffle among the mud. - -Zed made no answer, but kept struggling on; for the fact was, that he -was so eager to secure the bird, that he had succeeded in laying hold -of one of its legs, and, keeping hold, prevented himself from rising. -The heron and Zed made a desperate flapping and floundering, insomuch -that Phil roared out, more than once,— - -"What, in the name of heaven and earth, are you about, I say, Zed?" - -"Keep the boat in shore," cried Zed, with his mouth half filled with -mud; "I shall have her in another minute." - -"'Don't say so till you're sure!'" retorted Phil again; and just then -the sportsman who had shot the heron jumped out of his boat on a firmer -part of the strand, and, running along the bank, arrived at the spot -where Zed was struggling with the bird. He struck off Zed's hold of -the fowl with a slight blow from his fowling-piece, and bore away -the bird in triumph. Zed slipped into the Trent, and went souse over -head, but rose instantly, and clambered into the boat. He vented his -disappointment and vexation against the sportsman in no very gentle -terms, while the sportsman mocked him from the bank; and, when the -captor of the heron stepped into his boat, Zed urged Phil to pull away, -that they might capsize the fellow, and give him a ducking, as he said -in his foolish haste. But Phil was always Zed's better angel, though he -was but a blind old fiddler. "No, no, Zed," he cried, "you shall not go -that way. Let us make for home, that you may get to the fire-side. I -say you shall _not_ go—and I mean it, too." - -Nobody in the world could control Zed Marrowby but Phil Garret, when -old Zed was in his fuddled freaks; and even Phil could not always -succeed; but Zed's wet shirt helped to cool his choler in this instance. - -"To old Nick with the fellow, and his heron-sue!" cried Zed, pulling in -the same direction with Phil; "I'll e'en let him take his live lumber: -what good will it do him?" - -"Just as the fox said of the grapes, when he couldn't reach 'em—'Hang -'em! they're as sour as crabs!'" rejoined Phil; "but that was what I -said to myself, when you were struggling so hard to get the useless -fowl; and what good would it have done you, Zed?" - -"Hang me, if I know, exactly!" replied Zed, looking foolish, and -wishing himself in a corner. - -"You wouldn't like to eat a heron-sue, for they're as rank as stinking -fish, I've heard say," continued Phil; "and what else you would have -done with it I'm quite at a loss to guess: but never mind, Zed, you've -got a cooler, now,—and I think you won't be so hot again for some time -to come." - -"Well, well, it's all in our lifetime," said Zed, resolving to be -cheerful; "only pull away, and let us get to our own fire-side, that I -may dry my old skin, there's a jolly fellow!" - -"So I will, Zed," replied Phil, and doubled the force of his strokes at -the oar; "but I hope you'll promise me not to resume your gold-digging -when we land under the old castle-walls." - -"I will, I will, Phil,—and so don't banter me any more; I shall be a -cooler man for some time to come, after this, depend on't," answered -Zed, with his teeth chattering. - -And Zed spoke as truly as ever a prophet spoke, and much more truly -than many; for, although he got well warmed ere he went to bed, yet his -participation of so much extra liquor at the wedding, his foolish freak -at money-digging the preceding night, and his cold bath to conclude, -operating together upon his aged frame, produced rheumatic effects -which never left him. - -Zed Marrowby and Phil Garrett left their voyaging at the close of -that summer. True, they made all fit and industrious preparation for -the next spring; and Zed's heart was gleefully bent on resuming their -old cruises on their beloved Trent, and in their beloved old boat; -but Phil listened with a foreboding heart to the deep cough which -shook Zed's old body through the winter, and often interrupted his -fervid utterances of what pleasure he expected when summer should come -again. And when Zed Marrowby would exclaim, "We shall have another -merry summer's cruise yet, Phil!" Phil Garret would answer with more -solemnity, much more, than was his wont to put on, "Don't say so till -you're are sure. I think, Zed, we shall cruise no more in this world; -and I hope our next port will be in a better land." Zed poohed and -pshawed, for some time, at this "solemn way o' talking," as he called -it; but at length he began to feel that Phil was right—he grew feebler -as the spring drew nearer, and when it came, feeling the expectation -to be vain of ever stepping again into the beloved old boat, he took -Phil's advice—for he said he always thought it worth more than the -parson's—and strove to fix his mind on reaching the happy port in the -better land. - -Zed Marrowby's end was calm and peaceful; and so was that of Phil -Garret, his faithful companion, who was also laid under the green sod -in old Torksey churchyard within six months after. The memory of their -names and lives is well-nigh lost in the rural locality where they -lived; but there is not a saying more common in old Lincolnshire to -this day than that quaint caution so often uttered by the blind fiddler -to his less grave comrade, "Don't say so till you are sure!" - - - - -MASTER ZERUBBABEL, -THE ANTIQUARY; -AND -HOW HE FOUND OUT THE "NOOSE LARNING." - - -Antiquaries are scarce now-a-days. Don't mistake me, reader; I know -that there is an abundance of writers on things which are ancient—ay, -and more, that certain pragmatical folk pretend now to know more -exactly how every thing went on two thousand years ago, nay four -thousand years ago, than was known a few generations since by the -first scholars in Europe. But don't say I question the likelihood of -people knowing more about the ancients the farther time removes us -from them,—because that would be literary heresy, and would bring -upon an unlucky wight the hot persecution of the orthodox. But—I -repeat it—Antiquaries are scarce now-a-days. I mean, your real -thorough-bred ones, if I may say so—the fine old fellows who forgot -their breakfasts and dinners, walked out in their night-caps, went -to bed in their inexpressibles,—in brief, did all manner of queer -absent things by reason that they were ever present, in mind, with the -long bearded Druids, or the starched Romans, or the waggish Athenians, -or the broth-supping Spartans, or some other of the peoples who have -been dead and buried hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Talk of -antiquaries!—where are your lean, skeleton, paragons of patience now, -who can dwell seven years, with ecstasy, on the contemplation of a nail -proven to have been attached to a horse-shoe of ten centuries old,—or -who will write you, fasting, twenty folio sheets on the discovery of an -urn of Roman coins, or the opening of a British tumulus? The race is -now extinct: it has been driven out of existence by the newer and more -civilised race of the gentlemen antiquaries,—just as the aborigines of -New Holland and North America are following where the Peruvians have -already gone, into the realm of nought, before the European grasp-alls. - -One of the latest existing specimens of the genuine antiquary was to -be found in the little county town of Oakham, in little Rutland, some -seventy years bygone. Zerubbabel Dickinson was his name, and he was -proud of it;—and many an unwilling and loitering urchin had he whipt -through the nouns and verbs, and the "Propria quæ maribus," into the -"As in præsenti," in his time, for he kept the best school in the town, -during his best days;—and when his vigour declined, and his eyes and -ears grew somewhat dim, he still continued to exert his skill and -intelligence in the induction of a more contracted number of pupils -into the porches of classic learning. But then he no longer enjoyed -the high gratification of being addressed in his full, imposing name, -alike by peasant, tradesman, or gentleman: Zerubbabel sunk to "Hubby," -as the fine old pedagogue's shoulders declined in their stately height, -and his slower sense rendered it less certain that he heard distinctly -every syllable which was uttered by his acquaintances. Yet there was -no acidity of motive, no ill-naturedness, in the use of this familiar -abbreviation, for Hubby Dickinson was as much beloved, if he were -not quite so stiffly respected, as "Master Zerubbabel" had been. And -that shows, almost beyond the necessity of telling, that the fine old -antiquary had contracted no rust of the heart among the rusty coins -he had turned over so oft and so ecstatically; but, rather, that his -excellent nature had mellowed and become more loveable with age, though -it had shrunk from its former somewhat pride-blown proportions. - -Self-complacence Hubby Dickinson had felt, in his day,—and he must -have been a philosopher, indeed, could he have utterly subdued such a -feeling,—seeing that his learning was esteemed, by gentle and simple, -a thing so ponderous and vast, that every body wondered how Master -Zerubbabel's brain could hold it, or his shoulders bear the burthen -of it. Certes, there was not even a clergyman in the neighbourhood, -despite his Oxford or Cambridge matriculation, but what resorted -to the humble abode of the great antiquarian schoolmaster for the -interpretation of difficult Greek or Hebrew texts; not an ancient -will or parchment ever puzzled a Rutland lawyer, but it was brought -to Master Zerubbabel Dickinson to decipher it; and not a ploughboy or -a hedger or ditcher found a rust-eaten coin, or an ancient key, or a -mysterious-looking fragment of pottery beneath the earth's surface, -but they would forthwith journey to the dwelling of the "high-larnt" -Oakham schoolmaster to learn the meaning, or the use, or the value of -their discovery. Coins the illustrious Zerubbabel possessed of all -ages, and almost all countries—at least, so he believed,—and keys -of the most ornate Saxon fashion; and spear-heads and arrow-heads -of the most primitive Keltic rudeness; beaking-bills of the age of -Alfred, and daggers of the reign of Canute; fragments of steel-shirts -that had been worn in the Crusades; and hilts and crosses of swords -which had done service in Cressy or Agincourt: and all these were -so learnedly arranged, that their order, itself, proclaimed the -antiquary's incomparable erudition; while the syllables he would utter -in illustration of their uses, and ages, and owners, and concomitants -innumerable, left you in a perfect whirl of wonder! - -Now, of all these, the priceless contents of his precious museum, -Zerubbabel had written folio upon folio; and still continued to write -thereon, feeling that it behoved him to say all that possibly could -be said, on topics of such surpassing magnitude and importance, ere -he ventured to give his lucubrations to the world. Nevertheless, -these were minor labours, which, compared with one great and grand -undertaking that occupied nine-tenths of every leisure hour of his more -advanced life, were but as so many ant-hills to a pyramid. - -Reader, hast thou ever seen the old castle of Oakham? If thou hast not, -and opportunity will serve, prythee, go thither, and feast thy eyes -with the wondrous array—not of breathing sculptures, or matchless -pictures; not of antique folios or curiously carven cabinets; not of -storied tapestries or blazing heraldries—but of horse-shoes: ay, -horse-shoes of all sorts and sizes, that adorn the walls of that -singular old Saxon hall,—supported by its "antique pillars massy -proof,"—and stretching its primitive roof overhead. A sight it is, -pregnant with abundant reflection, that curious monument of feudalism; -and many and marvellous are the stories they tell you about its origin: -but, chiefly, they report that Ferrers—the Earl now, but simply, the -_ferrier_, or farrier, to the victorious Norman—obtained, with this -fief, authority to demand a horse-shoe of any knight, baron, or earl, -who rode for the first time through his manor of Oakham. And many a -veritable shoe taken from the foot of the steed of proud baron, or -chivalrous knight,—his name obliterated by the rust of ages,—you -behold on those walls; but therewith now mingle the mock-shoes of the -modern great: a semblance, merely, put up at a great price, in some -instances, they say. Gigantic shapes, some of these modern things are: -such are those bearing the inscriptions "H. R. H. the Prince Regent," -and "H. R. H. the Duchess of Kent," which latter hath a more diminutive -one beside it, inscribed "the Princess Victoria." Of the judges, who -here hold the courts of assize, the modern monuments of this curious -kind are the most numerous; and if you listen to a sly Oakhamer he will -not fail to tell you how often that model of political consistency, -of generosity, liberality, integrity, impartiality, gentleness, and -all the enlightened virtues—the ever-to-be-commemorated Abinger—was -_dunned_ for his five pounds, and how often he contrived to slip, like -an eel, through the fingers of those whose office or privilege it is to -claim the shoe or the price of it, before he was finally caught. Yet -_there is_ the shoe of the stainless and exalted legal functionary on -the wall,—so that he _was_ caught at last! - -Pardon, reader, this most unseemly wandering from the illustrious -subject of our present biography, the erudite Zerubbabel Dickinson. -Now it was in the contemplation of this unique monument of baronial -greatness,—it was in the collection and collocation of manuscripts -relative to the identity of the several shoes,—it was in the array of -the pedigrees of those in whose names they were put up,—it was in -brushing away the rust (not from the shoes, for the discerning Dickinson -would have adjudged him a pagan, of a verity, and no Christian, who -dared to disturb a grain of it!)—the rust of uncertainty that hung -about the names and memories of those to whom the more ancient furniture -of horses' feet belonged,—it was in this mine profound of all that was -important, and noble, and useful, and great, and grand, about the -countless catalogue of horse-shoes that were nailed to the walls of the -great hall in the castle of Oakham, that the learned and laborious -Zerubbabel dug and delved,—it was on these themes, I say (and I -scarcely know how to express myself worthily on so magnitudinous a -matter), that the indefatigable and magnanimous schoolmaster-antiquary -expended the choicest energies of his untiring intellect. - -This, courteous reader, was the prime labour—the _opus majus_ of -Master Zerubbabel Dickinson. The work was to have been entituled -"_Tallagium illustrissimum; seu Catalogus solearum ferrearum_"—with I -know not how many more _ums_ and _arums_, besides. _Was_ to have been? -Yes; for let it not be supposed that so stupendous a work was ever -finished. It was the opinion of the laborious Zerubbabel himself that -it never could be finished, so transcendent was the _beau-idéal_ of -such a work that he had conceived. - -But enough of a subject which, in this degenerate age, will never -be placed at its right value. This slender fragment of a biographic -memorial was not commenced so much with the view of showing how truly -great a man was the erudite Master Zerubbabel,—since we would despair -as deeply of doing justice to so immense a subject as Zerubbabel -himself despaired of completing the leviathan folios of the mighty -"Tallagium illustrissimum:" we have a more philosophic purpose in -view—namely, the proof, by history, of the striking moral truism, that -the greatest men are very little men when you take them out of their -accustomed sphere: in other words, that the wisest men are fools when -you talk to them about things with which, in spite of their wisdom, -they are not conversant. But why prove a truism? Ah, my friend, these -same truisms, as the world calls them, for the greater part, are just -the very things that want proving——. - -"Master Hubby," said a jolly fat farmer who called, with his fat wife -and her egg-basket, at the schoolmaster's door, towards five of the -clock on a market afternoon, "we've browt ye a queer, odd-fashionedish -sort on a thing, here, that we f'un i'th' home clooas tuther day; can -ye tell us what it is?" and the farmer produced an ancient fragment of -ironwork of a crooked form, but so unlike any modern utensil of any -kind, that any one but an antiquary might well be puzzled with it. -Nay, the profoundly erudite Zerubbabel himself was nonplused for the -moment! He turned it over and over, and put on his spectacles, and then -took them off again, and wiped them, and re-adjusted them to the most -perfect distance for his natural optics—that is to say, he placed -them as near to the very tip of his nose as they would remain without -falling off,—but all his delays for consideration would not do: he was -compelled to confess that he did not know what it was! - -"Why dooant ye, indeed?" cried the farmer with a stare. - -"The Lord ha' marcy on us! you dooant say so, Master Hubby, do ye?" -echoed the farmer's wife, perfectly electrified with the thought that -there was any thing ancient which Hubby did not understand; and she set -down her basket of eggs, and drew out her spectacle-case, and put on -her spectacles also, to gaze at Hubby in his. - -And so there stood the odd trio at the learned schoolmaster's door: -the man of ancient learning, barnacled to the nose-tip, and holding up -the curious crooked rusty piece of iron with a gaze of indescribable -eagerness; and the farmer with open mouth, and hands buried in the -profound pockets of the plush waistcoat that enveloped the goodly -rotundity of his person; and the farmer's wife, with the basket -at her feet, her arms a-kimbo, and her eyes directed with intense -earnestness through her spectacles on the movements of the illustrious -Zerubbabel's countenance. - -There was a perfect silence of full three minutes, and still the trio -gazed on. - -"Where found ye it?" asked Hubby, at last, not knowing what other -question to adventure. - -"At Hambleton on th' hill," replied the farmer; "and what think ye to't -then now, Master Hubby?" he asked again. - -Zerubbabel shook his head, and there was again a profound and perfect -silence. - -"You know, Davy," said the farmer's wife, at length, "young Bob -Rakeabout said he was somehow of a mind it was——" - -"Pooh, woman!" said the impatient farmer; "where's the use and sense of -telling what such a rattle-scallion as he thinks?" - -"Nay, but, Davy," reiterated the spouse, "it may be of use, for they -say he's book-larnt." - -"Book-larnt! ay, mally good faith, I think as much: and noose-larnt, -too," replied the farmer; "and I wish, when his last noose is tied, he -may be allowed benefit o' clargy!" and he burst into a loud laugh at -his own wit. - -"Well, howsomever," said the wife, "young Bob said he could swear it -was a spur, and nowt else." - -"_Calcar equitis Romani_, of a verity!" exclaimed Zerubbabel, and danced -with ecstasy, till the farmer and his wife stared harder than ever. - -"Ha! ye f'un' it out?" cried the farmer's wife: "Lord! maister Hubby, -do tell us what ye think it is." - -"A spur, good neighbours, a spur it is, no doubt, and hath belonged to -some valorous Roman knight many ages ago," replied Hubby. - -"Why, zowks, then, Bob was right," said the farmer; "and pray ye, -Maister Hubby, accept a dozen o' pullets' eggs with it, for it is not -worth having by itself." - -Zerubbabel was of a very different opinion, but very thankfully -received the eggs, notwithstanding; and his homely visitors bade him -good afternoon. - -And now did the deeply learned man retire into the very penetralia of -reflection, and meditation, and thought, and consideration, and so -forth; yet the "vasty cavern" of his mind displayed other and more -profound concernments than admiration of the invaluable Roman spur. -"_Noose-larnt_"—that was the singular word which riveted his thought. -"Noose-larnt!"—what could it mean? That was the great question which -the great Zerubbabel asked of himself—for he knew no higher authority -on such high matters—at least one hundred times before he went to bed; -but he slept—answerless! Again, on the succeeding day—ay, and on the -day succeeding that day—Hubby Dickinson pondered on the same profound -problem; and, on the third night, when he had extended his cogitations -to the stroke of twelve, and his sole remaining candle was reduced to -one inch of tallow, and four of black wick, curling through and through -the struggling bit of flame, and spreading gloom rather than light over -Hubby's little studium—then it was that Hubby Dickinson, feeling one -thought go through him like a flash of lightning, suddenly sprang up, -crying out, "Eureka—eureka!" and plucked an ancient volume from its -shelf to satisfy himself of the correctness of his thought. - -The searcher for enlightenment snuffed the candle with a speed and -dexterity which few could equal,—performing the act with Nature's -snuffers, his fingers,—feeling that the vastitude and urgency of the -inquiry did not permit the delay of employing the aid of man's mechanic -invention,—and then, and then—opening the ancient volume, and turning -to the name he contemplated, and fixing his spectacles, once again, in -the most advantageous position—the ardent and delighted antiquary read -out aloud to himself the following passage from the said ancient tome:— - -"Anaxagoras, the disciple of Anaximenes, was surnamed _Nous_, which -signifieth _intelligence_, by reason of his excelling quickness of -parts, and a certain, I know not what, of instant perception or -discernment of nice difficulties in a twinkling. For whereas other -wise men went round about to survey the questions to them proponed, on -this side and that, and, after much nice calculation and naming of -postulates, drew from the balance of probabilities what they affirmed -to be a correct answer, this philosopher manifested a strength and -clearness of judgment, and swiftness of reasoning, which might be said -to partake of intuition,—a faculty which the gods themselves only -possess in its perfection: and thus it came to pass that Anaxagoras was -called, in the Hellenistic tongue, _Nous_, or intelligence." - -That was the passage he read; and when he had read it he closed the -heavy quarto with a noise like the report of a gun, and again cried out -that "he had found it" with all his power of lungs. And then, feeling -that he had done business enough for one night, in having made so -transcendentally-sagacious a discovery, he put out the small remnant -of candle, groped his way to his bedside, and, while he performed the -prefatory work of unclothing, thus he soliloquised:— - -"Yea, of a verity, this is the true interpretation of the mystery. This -'Noose-larnt' young man is some great natural genius,—some miracle of -mother wit,—some second Anacharis the Scythian, who would very likely -beat all the wise men of this time, although he never entered the pale -of the schools,—nay, perhaps, hath never passed beyond the limits -of the lordship of Hambleton-on-the-hill. I have no doubt of it; for -none but such a genius could have determined, without witchcraft, that -this curiously shapen piece of ancient armour pertained to the heel. -It is strange that my friend, the parson of Hambleton,—who must have -given the young man this expressive epithet, seeing that the rural -people understand no Greek,—it is strange that he never told me of -the existence of this youth. But I will essay to find him out, if I be -spared till the morning light! O Hubby Dickinson! though few now call -you Zerubbabel, yet you may have lived to this age for a high purpose, -even to bring to light the name and singular endowments of this -'Noose-larnt' youth! Why, the discovery may even ennoble you beyond the -composition of the grand Tallagium!" And then Hubby fell asleep, and -dreamt delightfully; but the delight itself, of his dream awoke him, -and again he began to soliloquise amid the darkness:— - -"Why, it is as clear and luminous as the sun at noon to my mind," he -said to himself: "nothing less than the possession of a high degree of -the faculty of intuition could have enabled this youth to announce such -a truth. Verily, there is no wonder the rude peasant people entertain -suspicions that he hath a familiar, or is a wizard: and that they do -entertain such ideas is evident from that strange exclamation, or -rather optation, of Gaffer Davy—he wished when the youth's last noose -was tied he might find benefit o'clergy. There, is an allusion to the -ancient privilege of escape from the halter by a neck-verse, which I -have illustrated in the Tallagium. Doubtless, the farmers and ploughmen -believe this singular youth to be one who deals in the black art, and -think his mal-practices may bring him to the gallows. Ah, it is the way -in which the lights of the world have been treated in all ages! I will -find out the abode of this miracle of nature, that I will!" he said, -and again fell asleep. - -The morning broke, Hubby opened his eyes, and forthwith arose to renew -his self-congratulations. "Ah, Hubby," said he to himself, "you will -live to be called Master Zerubbabel again, by gentle and simple; for -you are destined, this day, to achieve a great work!" And then he went -over the roll of his reasonings again, and, feeling more assured than -ever of the certitude of them, he again congratulated himself. "Ay, -as old as I am, I have not lost my power of penetrating a matter," he -said; "tell me who, in the whole county of Rutland, except myself, -could have found this out from the simple premises on which it was -given me to erect my sagacious hypothesis?" - -Reader,—was Hubby Dickinson a very silly old fellow to talk and -think thus? Ah, how many of your great philosophers have reared their -world-admired hypotheses from premises as slight; and yet how long it -was before the folly of many of them was found out! - -Well, there was now but one step to be taken as a preliminary to the -commencement of Hubby's journey to Hambleton, which, he was sure, would -be memorable while the world lasted: it was—to give his scholars a -holiday. - -Reader,—talk of potentates by whatever name you will; but your -schoolmaster is your only emperor! Can he not make laws—break -laws—bind his subjects—set them free—and, in one word, do what -he listeth? I tell thee, reader, that his is the true _imperium in -imperio_: his will is law, and who can gainsay it? Thou knowest of no -potentate so truly imperial as the village schoolmaster. - -And Hubby Dickinson—had he not power in himself, and of himself—to -give his boys a holiday? That he had; and when the word was given, -ye powers! what a rush was there over benches, and what a scampering -for hats; and then the huzza! when the threshold was passed and the -plans for fun throughout the livelong day that were formed! Woe worth -the world! one owes it a grudge, one is tempted to think, since it -hath taken away from our lips the nectared chalice of childhood, and -giveth us now, from day to day, no other draught but this unsavoury -minglement, wherein one scarcely knows whether the bitterness or the -insipidity most prevails! - -It was but three short miles from Oakham to Hambleton; and Hubby -Dickinson's eagerness of desire gave such strength and speed to his -limbs that he soon reached the village. - -"Pray, my good friend," said he to a farmer on horseback, as he entered -the place, "can you say where I shall find the singularly endowed youth -who is familiarly called Bob Rakeabout, the Noose-larnt?" - -Poor Hubby! how he stared, and how loftily indignant he felt, when the -farmer returned him a broad horse-laugh for an answer, and, setting -spurs to his horse, rode away! He was not to be driven from his -purpose, however, and put the same question to a pedestrian, next. -The man, who was a ditcher with a shovel on his shoulder, touched, or -rather nipped, his hat skirts, and asked what the gentleman said; and -when he clearly understood that Bob Rakeabout was wanted, his reply -was, that he knew not where he would be found, unless at the alehouse. -Hubby thanked his informant, but was sure within himself that there was -some mistake arising from the man's dulness, for it could not be that -a genius of so magnificent a grade as the human being he was seeking -could be found loitering in a vulgar alehouse. So on Hubby strode, -looking at the ground, and thinking, and thinking,—till, at last, he -was accosted by a very dark-visaged and singularly dressed man, who -stood by a tent in a lane, on the other side of the village—for the -thinker had passed quite through it, unconsciously. - -"Fine weather, sir," said the man; "you seem to be in a brown study." - -"Pray, my friend," said Hubby, instantly, "know you one Bob Rakeabout, -a singularly gifted youth who, I am informed, hath obtained the -significant epithet of the 'Noose-larnt?'" - -The man took his short black pipe from his mouth, and stared agape for -a few seconds, and then said, with a smothered laugh,— - -"Oh, Bob! Ay, I know him well: he's famous for noose-larning!" - -Hubby Dickinson's heart leaped within him, and he bounded from the side -of the road into the centre of the lane, and, grasping the man's hand, -conjured him to lead him to the youth's presence. By this time, three -or four more dark faces had gathered at the entrance of the tent. - -"Come in a bit," said the man to whom the antiquary had addressed -himself. And, winking at his companions, the gipsy led Hubby into the -tent. - -Hubby was placed upon a sack that covered a clump of wood, and was -invited to partake some bread and cheese,—while a boy ran into the -village to fetch Bob Rakeabout. Having, in his eagerness, utterly -forgot his breakfast at home, Hubby felt nothing loth when he saw the -food, and accordingly accepted a "good farrantly piece," as the gipsies -called it. A humming horn of ale followed, and then another, and -another. Indeed, the contents of the huge black earthen bottle were -passed about rather freely. Endless questions followed, and strange -answers were given; and sometimes the gipsies stared, and at others -they smiled, and often they were in danger of laughing outright. - -At length the boy returned, and, behold! immediately afterwards Bob -Rakeabout, the "Noose-larnt" himself, entered the tent! Hubby rose to -receive him, bareheaded; but, he knew not how it was, it was somewhat -difficult for him to stand, and so he sat down again. As for the great -natural phenomenon himself, he stretched his brawny hand to each of the -gipsies, and they shook it with remarkable good-humour. Then, seizing -the black earthen bottle, he applied it to his mouth, without either -using the horn or waiting for invitation to drink. - -Hubby's thinkings were becoming somewhat confused; but he turned, -inwardly, to the fact that Diogenes threw away his dish when he saw the -boy drink out of his hand. "Of a verity, the youth is one of Nature's -own miracles!" said he to himself. - -Forthwith, Bob Rakeabout rakishly laughed as he took out a large pouch, -composed of mole-skins, and filled with tobacco. He laid it open on the -floor of the tent, filled his own short pipe from it, and the gipsies -immediately followed his example. Hubby, as yet, had scarcely spoken to -Bob; but when the whole company began to smoke, and the antiquary was -again pressed to drink, for more than one reason he quietly remarked -that he much wished to converse with this youth alone. - -"Oh, ay," replied the gipsy, whom Hubby had seen first, "Bob will have -no objection to that:—you can show this gentleman some noose-larning, -can't you, Bob?" - -The gipsies tittered,—but Bob understood the question,—for much had -been said by himself and the gipsies in the peculiar slang of their -tribe, which Hubby had not comprehended. - -"Take another horn, sir," said Bob; "and give us another ten minutes to -smoke our pipes out, and I'll show ye some noose-larning, in a twink." - -Hubby's head swum partly with pleasure, but much more with the strong -ale, to which he was unused; but he drank off the other horn, in eager -expectation of such a mental feast to follow it as he had never yet -tasted. - -"Come along wi' me, sir!" cried Bob, springing up, suddenly, at the end -of less than ten minutes; "come along wi' me, and I'll show ye some -noose-larning!" - -"Are ye really off, Bob?" asked the gipsies, all together. - -"Ay, ay," he answered, "kick up a roaster, and set on iron-jack against -I come back." - -Hubby thought this strange talk; but he had not time to think much -about it, for Bob seized him by the hand, and away they scampered -together over two or three fields, and then entered a wood. And here -Bob took from his pocket certain strange engines of wood and wire, and, -showing Hubby the noose attached to each, planted them severally in -little openings of bush or brake, while Hubby stared like one that was -thunder-struck, for Bob only uttered one word—"Noose-larning!" and -then, seizing Hubby by the arm, hurried him on again. At length, in -the thickest part of the wood, Bob began to take up engines instead of -putting them down—but, lo! there were dead hares attached to them. - -And now poor Hubby Dickinson saw of what kind of mettle the "miracle -of mother-wit" was made, and, taking to his heels, he ran from the -poacher with as much haste as if a legion of fiends were behind him. -Did the poacher follow? Not he, indeed. He only burst into hysterics of -laughter, and then went on with his business. - -And whither fled the antiquary? Indeed, he knew not; but, having -emerged from the wood, he ran as long as the fumes of the strong -malt-liquor in his brains permitted him to retain possession of the -power of his feet; and, when they failed him, he fell souse into a -ditch, which happened merely to contain mud instead of water, and -remained there, insensible and asleep for the greater part of the time, -till late in the afternoon. - -As luck would have it, the parson of Hambleton, who was an old -antiquarian crony of Hubby's, took his afternoon walk in that -direction, and, to his perfect amazement, found his erudite friend in -the ditch. - -"Noose-larning!" roared out Hubby, and shook and shuddered, when -the parson had poked him with his walking-stick until he waked -him:—"Noose-larning!" he still uttered, beholding the poacher in the -wood, in his bewildered condition. With much ado, Hubby was at length -fully brought to the remembrance of what he was about, and being by -that time perfectly sober,—but dreadfully cramped,—he clambered out -of the ditch; and though sorely ashamed of his bedaubed condition, -and much more of his doating folly, he accompanied his friend to the -parsonage-house at Hambleton, and, after much entreaty, with all the -simplicity of his soul, recounted all he could remember of the whole -adventure, commencing with Gaffer Davy's visit and the present of the -Roman spur. - -Oft was the hearty laugh of the plain Oakhamers raised at Hubby -Dickinson's expense, during the remainder of his life; but the fine old -fellow's adventure never lessened their esteem for him. He was never -permitted to want, even when age had stiffened his limbs and almost -totally closed his eyes and ears. Town and country were alike proud -of the learning that he had possessed; and the villages, especially, -believed that his like would never be seen in Rutland again, even to -the day of judgment. - -In the lapse of a few months, Hubby got over the shame and soreness of -mind created by his adventure so entirely, as to be able to relish a -joke about it; and, when his lamp of life was quivering and ready to -sink, nothing would so soon cause it to blaze up with a healthy and -cheerful light as a joke about the "noose-larning"—unless it were a -grave and respectful mention of the "Tallagium illustrissimum." But the -lamp of that life went out at last, though its exit from mortality was -peaceful and gentle as the sinking to sleep of a babe; and never yet -has "the like" been seen in little Rutland, for wondrous learning, of -Master Zerubbabel Dickinson. - - - - -THE BEGGARED GENTLEMAN, -AND -HIS CROOKED STICK. - - -There is not a sight in the world more distressful to the bosom that -retains any measure in it of "the milk of human kindness" than that -of an abject, poverty-stricken fellow-creature, who once rolled in -wealth and plenty. Even the born beggar, who has lived a beggar all -his life, feels an involuntary compassion for such a man. And, if his -fall be attributable to no avaricious spirit of speculation, or proud -and sensual excess—but is the effect of Fortune's untoward frown, -or the result of what the selfish world calls an imprudent practice -of relieving the distressed, the "beggared gentleman" is surely a -legitimate object of universal commiseration. - -"Poor Mr. Clifford!" the most ragged and hungry inhabitant of -Kirton-in-Lindsey would exclaim, "how much he is to be pitied!—I never -thought to see him come to this!" And when the subject of this general -pity happened to let fall his curious crooked stick through infirmity -of age, there was not a poor man or woman in the little town but -would hasten to restore it to him who seemed to regard it as the most -prizeable possession he had left in the world. It was moving to see -the instant act of ceremonious courtesy to which the recipient of this -simple heart-kindness would resort. He would raise his hat, and smile -with the same polite expression of thankfulness as in his best days. No -one who saw him could forget that he had been a gentleman. And yet the -home of his old age was one of squalid misery! - -Hugh Clifford's father was a descendant, by a younger branch, of a -noble family, and had gained a considerable fortune as a merchant in -the port of Hull. He died in the beginning of the reign of George the -Third, and left his accumulated wealth to his only son, who was then -at college. Hugh hastened home, on the sudden death of his father, -and, by the advice of a few friends, resolved to carry on his father's -mercantile concern. Twelve months, however, served to disgust him with -business. His wealth, instead of augmenting, began rapidly to decrease -under the peculations of clerks and managers, to whom the business was -necessarily entrusted, and he took the resolution, ere it was too late, -of retiring, after he had disposed of his "concern," to a pretty little -estate which had fallen to him, by his mother's right, at the pleasant -little rural town of Kirton-in-Lindsey, that like "a city set on a -hill" delights the eye of the traveller for miles before he reaches it. - -For many years, Hugh Clifford's house was a general refuge for the -distressed. None ever knocked at his gate, and told a tale of want, -but they found instant relief. Hugh Clifford's heart was expansive as -Nature herself. He felt that all men were his brethren, and that, if -he merely tendered them lip-kindness when they were in sorrow, it was -but mockery. He pondered over the precepts and history of the Great -Exemplar, until, nature and reason combining to stimulate him, his -whole life became an effort to banish the misery of human-kind. And yet -the sphere in which he acted was comparatively narrow; for his natural -intelligence was not of that high order which marks out for itself -extended fields of enterprize in philanthropy. Hugh Clifford could not -be termed a planet, like Howard, that visited widely distant climes -in its great dispensing orbit of goodness; but he was most veritably -a star of benevolence, that cheered with a pure and genial light all -within its neighbourhood who partook of woe and wretchedness. - -Living, by his charity, in the very core of poor men's hearts, and -respected for his true politeness and urbanity by his wealthier -neighbours, Hugh Clifford, while he rendered others happy, was -believed to be himself a very happy man. Nevertheless, for twenty -years after he had passed the prime of age, discomfort and distress -were gradually stealing upon him; and these, too, from a source which -was almost entirely unsuspected by the majority of his neighbours. -True, it was sometimes remarked that fox-eyed lawyer Merrick was -often, very often, at Clifford cottage,—and this was considered to -be anomalous, since Hugh Clifford's acquaintances had been uniformly -chosen for some quality which distinguished them in the little town -and its neighbourhood, as benefactors rather than oppressors of the -poor: albeit lawyer Merrick was notoriously of the latter description -of character. A few shrewd, hard-bargaining farmers also made a notch -in their memories, now and then, that lawyer Merrick's purchases of odd -bits of land were becoming frequent now he seemed to be so very oft a -visitor at good Mr. Clifford's. - -Notwithstanding these slight precurses of suspicion, it came, at -length, upon the ears of the Kirton people, poor and rich together, -like the shock of an earthquake, that "poor good old Mr. Clifford was -turned bodily out of doors, with nothing but the clothes on his back -and his favourite crooked stick in his hand, a complete pauper, for -that he had been getting into lawyer Merrick's debt for years and -years, by borrowing small sums upon his estate, whereby all he was -worth was mortgaged to the lawyer, who had now suddenly foreclosed, and -pounced upon house and land, pushing good old Mr. Clifford away, by -the shoulders!" - -"Poor Mr. Clifford!" was echoed by every body;—but who helped "poor -Mr. Clifford?" - -There lay the hardest fact in the good man's history. The little -tradesmen who had shared his daily orders for the relief of the -miserable had none of them more than five pounds in their books against -him; but each of them made out a bill of thrice the amount of their -debt, and so figured in the world's compassion as great losers by the -"beggared gentleman," instead of ingrates, when they shut their doors -against him. The farmers shook their heads, and buttoned up their fobs, -saying, "It was no wonder that all was over with Mr. Clifford: he ought -to have remembered that, 'Charity begins at home.'" The parish parson, -who was the prime whip of the neighbourhood, and spent more days of the -year with 'Squire Harrison's hounds than he spent in his pulpit and -study, thrice told, only struck his top-boots violently with his whip, -and said, "God bless me! I always thought the poor fellow was cracked -in his upper story! Why, he must have meant to end his days in an -alms-house, or he would not have undertaken to keep all the poor in my -parish and the surrounding parishes to boot!" and, springing into the -stirrups, was out of sight in a minute. - -And into an alms-house poor Hugh Clifford went, but not until he had -wandered through the little town three or four times, leaning upon -his curious crooked stick, and looking as if unconscious of the crowd -of tearful poor men and women that followed him. At first, the parish -overseers waited, in the expectation that, as a matter of course, -either the parson or some of the "better sort of people" would invite -the "beggared gentleman" into their houses; but when it was seen that -no such invitation was given, while, all the time, the poor fallen man -was wandering in the street with derangement manifest in his looks, the -puzzled overseers laid their heads together, and agreed that one of the -alms-houses should be apportioned for Mr. Clifford's home, and that an -old deaf female pauper should be put under the same roof to wait upon -him. - -For many days the poor victim to his own goodness was silent and -helpless, and, by order of the parish surgeon, was disturbed, on the -rugged bed where he lay, no oftener than was necessary to arouse him -in order that he might be fed; for his mental powers seemed to have -undergone so complete a paralysis as to render him insensible to the -calls of nature. After the lapse of some weeks, during the latter half -of which he seemed to be absorbed in abstract devotion, poor Hugh -Clifford's mind rallied. And now the meekness with which he bore his -adversity was equally remarkable with the perfectness of that pity -he had evermore displayed for the wretched during the term of his -prosperity. He accepted the smallest act of kindness with gratitude; -and the poor deaf old female pauper never knew what it was to hear him -utter a word of complaint. - -The remnant of his life may be summed up in a few lines. All who had -the means of ameliorating his lot neglected him; and all who wished -for the means, and had hearts to have used them in his relief, lacked -them. He lived years in his beggared condition, and died calmly and -quietly, complaining of nothing in the world, nor of the world itself, -and leaving but one request,—that his curious crooked stick might be -placed by his right side, in his coffin, and buried with him! - -The deaf old female pauper who had waited on him did not fail to -communicate this strange request to the parish overseers when they -came to look at Hugh Clifford's corpse, prior to giving orders for his -burial. It may be guessed that the singular request gave rise to much -wonder and some enquiry. But the old female could only answer that -the good gentleman would often place his odd-looking walking-stick in -the corner, and sit on his bedside looking very intently upon it; and -that often he would turn the other side of it to the wall, and then -sit and look at it again; and several times she had seen him take a -little note-book from his coat pocket, at the breast, and write in it, -looking, ever and anon, at the curious crooked stick. - -The latter part of the old female's communication of course occasioned -a search. The pocket-book was found, and in it a paper covered with a -close manuscript of a most curious character, but one that served to -display the anatomy of poor Hugh Clifford's heart under his misfortunes -more fully than it could have been laid open and read in either -death-bed confession, or funeral sermon. It ran as follows:— - - - "_A Soliloquy on my only faithful and never-failing friend,—my - beloved and valued crooked stick._ - -"Ay, there thou art,—my own crooked stick!—My heart cleaves to thee, -in thy crookedness; and I love thus to look upon thee, more and more, -daily, as thou leanest by the wall in that corner,—remembering that -thou and I were not always tenants of an alms-house. - -"I love to look upon thee, with a melancholy yet pleasurable love, -beholding that thou preservest thy crooked identity,—yea, remainest -as crooked as ever thou wert! I know not whether aught within me, or, -indeed, any thing but thyself without me, be still the same as on that -beautiful summer eve when, more than fifty years ago, I cut thee from -the venerable crab-tree whereon thou didst grow, and we formed our -inseparable friendship. - -"The wise men of this age would tell me that not a particle of the body -I had then, at nineteen, is to be found in this old body of threescore -and ten,—but that blood, bone, brains, and all its other youthful -components, are changed. I know not, my dear crooked crab-stick, how -truly they may speak; but this I know,—that I then was proud of a -perfect and spotless array of teeth, while, now, my old gums are -tenantless; that then my eyes were sharp and strong, while now I see, -with the utmost difficulty, objects removed half a yard from my nose; -that then my ears were instruments of use, and porches for receiving -the brain's most precious visitants, the sounds of music,—while, now, -they only serve to plague me when I see people's lips moving, and -think, like other old fools, that folks are always talking about me; -and, that I used to have 'a handsome head of hair,' as my barber always -called it, on quarter-day, when he expected his salary,—while, now, I -behold a perpetual winter above my brow, and on my brow itself! - -"But, ah! my faithful friend, why should I lament the changes which -have come upon me? Fate, or Fortune, or whatever power I might -fancifully charge with my evil day, cannot avenge herself of me so -bitterly as she might,—if I had teeth to be set on edge with inferior -food,—eyes to be offended with the rude shapes of this straw mattrass -and rush-bottomed chair,—ears to be tormented with the jangling of -earthen porringers, as the poor deaf old woman knocks them against each -other,—and hair which I could not dress for lack of a mirror! - -"And then, as to my inner man, good lack, my beloved crooked -crab-stick! though thou remainest the same, how is this my inner man -changed! ay, how hath it changed and changed again, since our first -dear friendship was formed! Yet I said in my heart, once, that my -mind could never change in its regard for what I was pleased to call -'certain great principles!' Alack! I have lived to feel uncertain about -the certainty and greatness of almost all principles! and—— - -"But stop! how is this, that having taken thee into my hand, I begin, -just now, to question the reality of thy crookedness? Art thou really -so very, very crooked, my dearly beloved stick? - -"There! I place thee, again, in thy own corner, that so thou mayst lean -against thy own spot in the wall, and lo! thy crookedness is made, -once more, fully manifest! No, no, my friend—for Hugh Clifford loves -thee too well and sincerely to call himself thy 'master,' and think of -thee as of a slave!—no, no, it is too late in life for the 'beggared -gentleman' to deceive himself—thou _art_ crooked, crooked indeed! - -"But ah! my beloved stick, it is for thy crookedness I love thee, -above all, though not for it alone. I avow to thee, as I have often -avowed, in times past, when no human ear heard me, that I thank thee, -my faithful, crooked, unfailing friend, for all thy service. Twice, -when wielded by my right arm, didst though enable me to deliver a weak -fellow-creature from his stronger, who would have slain him because -he had not filthy gold or silver to satisfy the robber: ten times -didst thou empower me to wrest open the cottage doors of dying human -beings deserted by their kind, and unable to arise and welcome their -deliverer: nay, once didst thou enable me to preserve my own poor life -when the plunderer who now possesseth my house and land would have -secretly and bloodily taken it! - -"What though it bringeth some sorrow to remember the angelic face and -form I saw, for the last time, but an hour before I cut thee from thy -parent tree, Ah! how well doth life assort the lot of its inheritors, -even when they most deeply repine! The sea devoured my Mary—my beauty, -my only love, and I repined that she was not spared to share my riches -and possessions; alas! would she not have had to share my lot, also, -in this alms-house? Indeed, my friend, I was blessed that I gained thy -friendship that night, when my love was taken from me, for how great a -comfort hast thou been to me! - -"I tender thee these my heartfelt thanks, now our long and interesting -friendship is in the yellow leaf! Many a mile hast thou travelled -with me,—unfailingly hast thou supported my steps in manhood and old -age,—in all weathers,—and never shrunk from me, nor upbraided either -my haste or my tarrying, my speed or my slowness, my lavishness or my -poverty; but Hugh Clifford cannot expect, in the nature of things, to -remain with thee much longer. He loves thee so well, that he would fain -thou mightst be laid by his side in the grave: yet such a request may -be met churlishly by those who provide Hugh's coffin,—and thou mayst -become the support of another, who will, peradventure, proudly call -thee his 'property' instead of his 'companion!'" - -"Farewell, then, my dearly-beloved and highly valued friend—farewell! -but not before I have more fully thanked thee:—— - -"Above all, my precious crooked stick, I return thee hearty thanks that -thou hast been to me a truthful mirror—yea, a bright and glittering -looking-glass,—although the eye of the undiscerning, and of those who -judge after the outward seeming and surface appearance, would misreckon -thee to be a dry, dull, opaque crooked crab-stick! Yea, a mirror, I -say, thou hast been to me,—reflecting upon my spiritual retina,—the -judgment,—that great fact, which, in my folly, I oft would have hidden -from myself,—that I resembled thee! - -"Yet, thou pitiedest me in thy heart,—hard and unfeeling as some -would say that heart must be, the heart of a crooked crab-stick!—yea, -thou pitiedst me therein, and didst still from thy old corner -regard me with the same unflatteringly argumentative and admonitory -aspect,—penetrating _my_ heart with the faithful language of _thine_: -'Hugh! look at me and know thyself.' - -"And I _have_ looked at thee, and I do _now_ look at thee, and in thy -veritable crookedness I behold my own!" - -"Reader,—who wilt find this my solemn and earnest soliloquy, when I am -gone,—hast thou a crooked stick? - -"'I, Mr. Clifford!' answers some young puppy of one-and-twenty, who, -perchance, may take my paper into his dainty fingers, 'I am not so -vulgar as to carry a crooked stick: my cane is most beautifully -polished, and it is a perfectly straight one!'" - -"Pshaw! my brave lad! I sought not thy answer: do not be so pert: think -more, and talk less, for the next thirty years; and then re-consider my -question. - -"'I understand your censorious query, Mr. Clifford,' says another, -some score of years older, and with less buckram but more gauze in his -composition—'I understand you: but the fact is, _my_ stick is _not_ a -crooked stick: it is perfectly straight, and hath always been straight: -'tis the evil-disposed and calumnious world who call it crooked: -albeit, if they would only view it aright, they would perceive that all -the parts of it which they think crooked and perverse are direct as a -geometrical right line!' - -"Alas, my reader with the pretended straight stick! thou pratest in -vain to Hugh Clifford, the 'beggared gentleman!' I tell thee, plainly, -thy stick is, like mine, a crooked one; nay, I tell thee, that every -man's stick is but a crooked stick. And, of all curses under which this -poor abused world groans, may it be speedily and effectually delivered, -I pray, in my old age and in an alms-house, from the cant of the -starched faces who assure their fellow-creatures with so much show of -sanctity that their crooked sticks are straight ones! - -"Farewell, then, once again, my beloved but crooked friend, and -thanks for thy faithfulness! alas, that I neglected to use thy silent -admonitions as I ought to have used them, when the serpent who wrecked -me was wont to shed his false tears while I related my tales of the -poor in his ears! Fool that I was to take those tears, and the offers -to lend more money that followed, for proofs of his feeling heart! Ah, -my friend, had I to spend life again, I would attend more closely to -thy monitions, and would not credit a man's professions of humanity, -unless they cost him something! But it is too late to repent at what I -fear I could not have avoided if I had even seen my error. - -"Let it pass! Hugh Clifford's heart danceth for joy, even amidst the -squalor of an alms-house, that he can point to no inconsiderable -portion of his life, and say with truth regarding it, as one said of -old—'When the ear heard me, then it blessed me: and when the eye saw -me it gave witness to me: because I delivered the poor that cried, and -the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him -that was ready to perish came upon me: and I caused the widow's heart -to sing for joy.'— - -"Yet see I my image in thine, my dear faithful friend! my stick -is but a crooked one, though I have done some little good in my -life! Ostentation hath mixed itself, more or less, with my purest -charities,—anger hath too often burned in my bosom till the morning -light: I have not always 'done as I would be done by;' I have too often -behaved contemptuously to my fellow-creatures, forgetting that I was -but a poor, pitiful earth-worm, like themselves. I am but a _crooked_ -stick, like thee, my beloved friend, with all my imagined excellency. - -"But, finally, I thank thee, that thou hast perseveringly shown me that -I was not perfect: thou hast preserved me from self-deceit, or at least -hast chased it away, when it hath led me into temporary captivity. - -"Farewell, then, my beloved crooked stick!—and if he who, first or -last, readeth this my serious soliloquy feeleth inclined to laugh -thereat, let him answer my question, when I ask him if _he_ be able to -point to one human thing that hath been to him what thou hast been to -me—_for fifty years, an ever-faithful and never-failing friend_?" - - - - -THE -NURTURE OF A YOUNG SAILOR; -OR, -THE HISTORY OF COCKLE TOM. - - -Cockle Tom was born in poverty, cradled in hardship, and schooled, -never in the alphabet, but perpetually in endurance of labour, hunger, -and fatigue. His manhood was brief; but his death was generous and -heroic. He was one of the humble children of genuine romance, which -England produces in profusion, but whose lives are unchronicled, and -the moral of their story lost, simply from the fact that, though -full of virtuous ambition, they are untainted with vain-glory: they -neither seek for notice in cities, nor lay claim to distinction in -public assemblies; but they restlessly seek to obtain and preserve the -reputation that they are hard-workers, undaunted by any danger, and -capable of sustaining any amount of fatigue, or undertaking any risk, -even that of life itself, to benefit the existence or preserve the life -of a fellow-creature. Such is genuine Saxon character—genuine old -English nature: what elements for useful greatness in a nation, if its -rulers were Alfreds! But to proceed with our humble biography:— - -Cockle Tom was born at Northcotes-on-the-Sands, a slender, straggling -village, bleakly situate on the Lincolnshire sea-coast, and at no -great distance from the mouth of the Humber. His father was a simple -fisherman, who rented the "cockle sands," as they were called,—an -extent of something more than a mile, belonging to the parish of -Northcotes, and possessed in fee-simple by the principal landholder in -the neighbourhood. Having married young, and being early the head of a -numerous small family, Tom's father, from the penury of his condition, -was constrained to introduce every one of his male children, at least, -to the rough and painful labour of gathering cockles on the sea-beach -by the time they had reached the tender age of five years. And at -that age was Tom first taken, by his elder brothers, without shoes -or stockings, with a bundle of rags rather than clothes around him, -and a red flannel night-cap tied fast round his head, to gather the -shell-fish, by scraping them out of the sand with his little hands, -and putting them into a small hempen bag tied round his loins. Little -Tom was very eager to go;—for "the sea! the sea!" was his unvarying -song (chanted in a wild, untaught melody which perhaps even Neükomm -himself would have thought beautiful, could he have listened to it) -from the day when he was three years old, the first day on which his -father bore him on shoulder to gaze upon the ships riding in the German -Ocean. But poor little Tom cried bitterly with frozen hands, and cold, -and hunger, before the day was over, and it was time to return to his -mother's aproned knee, and the soothing heaven of sympathy that dwelt -on her tongue and in her eyes. - -Yet, on the morrow, little Tom would go again. The father would have -left him at home till the Spring strengthened and the sun came nearer, -for it was but early March as yet; but the little adventurer was too -true to his nature to accept the boon. And from that day, summer and -winter, except when even the father himself was compelled to stay at -home by reason of an unusual storm, Tom continued to mount his little -red night-cap, like the rest, and make one among the picturesque -line of industrious stragglers on the sea-beach. To school Tom never -went in his life: though his lot would not have been more highly -favoured in that respect, had he been the child of a peasant in the -interior, or even the son of a decent mechanic in Lincolnshire, at that -period,—for we are speaking of events of seventy years' date, from -their commencement to our own time,—and at that far-back period the -idea of sending a poor man's child to school was regarded as a piece of -over-weening pride that deserved no gentle rebuke from "the better sort -of people." But what though he could never read? he could make boats; -and indeed his earliest error was a display of that kind of ingenuity, -for he bored a hole in the bottom of his mother's bread-tin when but -four years' old, stuck a wooden mast in it, fitted on a sail, and set -it afloat on the surface of a brook that ran by the end of his father's -little garden; and, while he clapped his little hands in ecstasy, away -dashed his ship to the sea! He was severely chidden for this, but _not_ -flogged: that was not his mother's way; she happened to have too much -good sense to brutify her offspring: and the lecture served to shew him -that he had done foolishly,—but it did not annihilate that passion for -ships and the sea which his first sight of them had created within him. -He could make boats—did we say? ay, and he made a ship, too,—such -a ship!—though this was when he was ten years old, and had seen the -magnificent merchant-vessels from the Mediterranean and the West Indies -go by in full sail for the Humber and the port of Hull,—such a ship, -with masts, and yards, and rigging, and portholes, and even miniature -sailors,—it was so wondrous a piece of art as the oldest villager -in Northcotes had never seen, and rendered little Tom the every-day -talk of all its inhabitants. Such talk did not render little Tom vain, -however, for his yearning mind had influenced his hands to form the -ship from no principle of praise-seeking: it was a type that signified -he meant to sail in such an ocean-vehicle—if the simple people could -so have read it. - -Unmindful of praise, and true to the energy that was growing within -him, little Tom learnt to swim, and dive, and play with the huge ocean -as familiarly as with his elder brothers. More especially if a vessel -chanced to anchor near the shore, either to wait for a change of wind, -or to barter for fish, that was a temptation so powerful with Tom, that -he seldom waited for his father's return, if at a distance with the -boat,—but into the wave he would plunge, and speedily gain the vessel, -becoming, in a few minutes, a favourite with every one on board, for -his sense and activity. Tom's brothers shared the pleasure, or at least -the benefits, of these ventures, though they were neither skilful nor -courageous enough to share the peril; for little Tom usually returned, -bearing by the strings in his mouth, like a water dog, his cockle-bag -filled with precious scraps of sea-biscuit, and sometimes a bit or two -of boiled salt beef,—a priceless luxury for the brothers, to whom noble -little Tom invariably gave up the bag, as soon as he reached the shore. - -By the time that Tom was regularly entered as one of his poor father's -labouring band, the strongest of his three elder brothers was taken -by the father, into the little boat, taught to assist in managing -the bladdered nets, and so advanced from a mere cockle-gatherer to -an embryo fisherman. The two next brothers were neither sufficiently -strong, active, or enterprising, ever to rival the oldest; but when -Tom was ten years old, though Jack was fifteen, his father preferred -taking him in the boat. The little hero not only gained greater -knowledge, but rapidly grew in courage, presence of mind, and plan for -adventure, by the change. In fact, the father's circumstances were -speedily bettered by his child's intelligence and energy. - -One day, while his father was "dealing" the largest net out of the -boat, so as to prevent its getting "foul," and little Tom was riding -upon the old horse which the father was necessitated to keep for his -daily use, towing the end of the net by a line to the required distance -into the water, he perceived that he was among an unusually large -shoal of fine fish,—and so swam the horse out, considerably, with -the intent to have a full sweep of the treasure. Much to the lad's -chagrin, however, the father hallooed, and motioned, and menaced, for -him to come back; and so Tom, who was too true a lad to disobey when -his father seemed so angry, was constrained to give up his prize, and -the result was that the father had to meet his usual chapman for the -Louth market with only a very pitiful take of fish for the day. Tom was -then but twelve years old, but his shrewdness discerned how greatly -these timid acts of his father served to gird in the hungry family with -straitness. He had never disobeyed on a large scale before; but his -spirit prompted him to what, according to his unschooled casuistry, -he conceived to be a virtuous disobedience, now—and yet it was a -venturous and perilous deed for a child that he undertook. And thus he -went about it. - -He drew his mother aside, as soon as they returned home in the evening, -and dazzled her imagination with his brilliant and excited account of -the value and fineness of the shoal he had seen, and told her he was -resolved to have them before the next morning. - -"The Lord help thee, bairn!" exclaimed the mother; "what art thou -talking of?" - -"Talking sense, mother," said Tom; "and you'll see it: for you must sit -up till Jack and I come back with the old horse: we'll set off as soon -as my fayther has gone to bed and fallen fast asleep." - -"Jack!" cried the mother, "why, it'll make him tremble to talk o' such -a thing!" - -"The more's the shame for him, then," replied the little hero; "if he -does tremble, and durst not go, I shall think him a lubber"—a word -that Tom had learnt from the sailors, and, of course, was very fond of -using: "the moon's at full, and we can see as well as by daylight to -manage the net." - -"Thou'lt be drownded, bairn," said the mother; "and, besides, the fish -may be all gone from where thou saw 'em this morning." - -"Not they," insisted Tom; "they're brits, mother,—fine large brits," -he repeated, with sparkling eyes; "and you've heard my fayther say over -and over again that flat fish stay in a snug bottom for days together. -I saw 'em spread all along the far flat, within the sunk rocks, toward -Donna Hook: they've found fine shelter, and plenty to feed on, no -doubt, and they won't go away; they'll make pounds, mother—and we need -money, you know, mother." - -Tom's mother gazed at him with fond wonder: so much ardour, so much -earnest zeal to benefit his parents, and brothers and sisters, in one -so young—it was almost too much for her, and the tears rose, as she -stood silently looking at her child, with one hand on his shoulder, -and his eager, entreating eyes penetrating into her very soul to learn -whether he would win her consent. He prevailed, however, and she heard -the last footsteps of the old horse, as it slowly left the door of the -cottage, with Tom and Jack on its back, and the net packed behind, with -feelings of excited apprehension she had not felt since the first storm -after her marriage, when her husband was out at sea.—— - -"What's that?" asked the father, half awaking at the sound of the -horse's feet, and wondering that his wife was still up; but she -rendered him some evasive answer, and continued darning one of the -children's rent garments, telling him that she must have it done for -the boy to put on in the morning. Leaving the reader to imagine the -mother's agonising doubts and fears, and anxious listenings to the -movement of every changeful sound of the night, let us attend to Tom -and his brother, and their daring adventure. Not that it needs any -expanded description,—for it was entered upon, and achieved, with -all Tom's soul thrown into it, in such a way as to render it memorable -to Jack's latest day, when Jack told it to his children. Jack was -fearful enough at remaining alone in the boat to hand out the net by -moonlight,—but Tom was dashing along on the old horse that was a good -swimmer, and was not long in doubling and returning. Again and again -was their swoop of the sea repeated, till their strength was well-nigh -exhausted with toiling to carry on land their loads of fish. A mighty -harvest from the great waters it was, to be reaped by the energy and -intrepidity of a boy of twelve years old. The fish were concealed in a -"crike" or small freshet, a little removed from the beach, where it was -easy to form a dam; and with one good load upon the old horse, fastened -in the folded net, the lads set off on foot, long before daylight, from -the beach, and speedily were at their father's cottage-door with this -earnest of their booty. - -"Whoa hoa!" cried Tom aloud to the old horse, almost before it -was time to stop; and his mother, who was already in front of her -cottage, lifted up her closed hand, and shook it, and cried, "Hush, -bairn,—whisht, whisht!—thy fayther will hear thee, and what's to be -done then?" - -But Tom was neither to be hushed nor whished. "Tell my fayther to get -up, and take Dick and Will with him to fetch the rest o' the brits and -rays, while Jack and I have some breakfast, for we are hungry above -a bit," he said; and he tumbled the fish out of the net, and told his -mother they had left ten times as many in the crike. What cared Tom -whether his father felt inclined to scold or not? He knew that the -booty would silently and overwhelmingly plead his pardon. And oh, the -trembling joy and pride of the poor mother,—her thoughts of large -pecuniary relief and admiration of her child's noble act, combining, -and causing her to prattle with so much elation that she scarcely knew -what she said! - -Seven pounds, in sterling English money, Tom's poor father made of his -child's night adventure: a sum he had never approached for one day's, -no, nor one week's labour in his little boat, since he had possessed -it. Need it be said that Tom's father was proud of him? He loved all -his children: they and his wife were his jewels, his only idols in -the world; and to picture truly his yearnings for their happiness, as -he cast a thought towards his cottage, or counted his boys by their -little red caps, toiling, meanwhile, afar off from the beach where the -children straggled sometimes at great distances from each other, at -their hardy employ,—to tell what truly exalted thinkings passed hourly -through the mind of that poor fisherman, tossed upon the surge often -a whole day without a fragment of gain, and yet clinging with glowing -love to his wife and children on land,—oh, it would form a theme to -kindle the sweetest eloquence of the gentle yet godlike Shakspere -himself! But it was natural that Tom should become his father's -peculiar pride, for he was, indeed, a child to be proud of. - -It was, therefore, a melancholy sound, the first request of that -heroic boy, when he became fourteen—a sorrowful note in the ears of -his doting parents—that he might become a sailor, and leave them! The -father and mother exchanged a dreary look, and said nought. It was a -request they might expect, one day or other, for the lad had always -raved about the darling life of a sailor, and he was now becoming of an -age when it was fit he should enter on such a profession as he intended -to follow for life: but yet they had always put the thought aside, and -clung to the enjoyment of possessing such a son, and beholding him as -"the light of their eyes," daily. Tom saw and felt what his parents -endured when he presented his first request, and he did not renew it -till another month had flown, and a Boston sloop was lying off the -cockle-sands, laden with timber from Hull, when he again asked if he -might go for a sailor. This time, however, the question was put under -circumstances which seemed to soften the dread of separation. Boston -was a Lincolnshire port, and a voyage thither and back, on trial, would -soon be performed, so that they would soon see their darling again; and -therefore his parents gave consent for Tom's departure. - -The boy became as much the darling of the little crew in the sloop, -during their brief voyage, as he had been of his father and mother. -They gave him the name which stuck to him through life, as soon as they -had heard his history, to which, indeed, they were scarcely strangers, -for it was not the first time he had been on board their shallop. -And "Cockle Tom" was proud to tell his new name when he saw his home -again: it had been given him by sailors, and it was, therefore, more -honourable in his estimation than knighthood or nobility given by a -monarch would have been, had he known of either. - -There was now no putting off the complete separation from their noblest -child for Tom's parents. He had fully made up his mind to live on -the sea, his darling element: and, besides, he had been to Hull, the -port to which the Boston sloop traded, and had seen the Greenland -whale-ships, and talked with the sailors till he was all excitement for -the noble daring of joining in an attack upon the vast sea-monsters, -and seeing the mountain icebergs, and hearing the roaring of the -white bears. His father therefore prepared clothing for the lad, and -began to think of setting out with him for Hull, in order to see him -safely committed, as a sailor-apprentice, to the care of some kind and -fatherly sort of Greenland captain. - -It was a dull week that young Cockle Tom passed at home; for, despite -his enthusiasm, the complete separation from his parents was a thought -that cut him to the quick. Did, then, the fisherman's child, who had -been led forth to endure the cold sea wind, and labour, and hunger, -from infancy, love his parents? Ay, that did he, and with such a love -as you know nothing of, young spruce, who have been to boarding-school, -and have since become versed in all the hollownesses of "respectable -life." If there was a sacred corner in Tom's heart, it was that where -the precious images of his father and mother were enshrined. Toil, -fatigue, hunger, pain, loss of sleep, nay, death itself, he would have -encountered at any moment to benefit them; and, young as he was, he -formed strong judgments on men's characters who failed in parental -duty. He never swore but once in his life, before leaving home, and -that was when a young farmer in the parish married a flaunting wife, -and gave up his aged father, blind and palsy-stricken, to be placed -in an alms-house. "D—n his eyes!" exclaimed young Tom, while his own -eyes flashed fire, "I should like to grapple his weasand, as big as he -is!" That was a rude expression, and a strange one, too, for a boy of -fourteen; but while his mother reproved it with such a look as she had -never given him before,—and he blushed like scarlet, and promised, -with tears in his eyes, never to swear again,—yet she read within -Tom's heart, by the aid of those few syllables, the existence of a -principle which, she felt, more truly ennobled her child than the -highest earthly titles would have aggrandised him. - -It was some relief to young Tom to reflect that his parents were now in -comparatively comfortable circumstances, and chiefly through his means. -The ice of timidity once broken, Jack had become more adventurous, and -within one year, by the joint efforts of the two brothers, so great -an increase took place in the fish the father had to offer for sale, -that he was enabled to buy the little cottage in which he lived, with -the garden adjoining, as well as to clothe his whole family. The next -year furnished a new and larger boat, and an extra horse, besides -stocking the little purse of the father with a few spare guineas in -gold—the noble old spade-aces which "looked so much like _real_ -money," as our forefathers used to say, when they first saw the queer, -"fly-away-blow-away" paper money. - -Did they cry—Tom, or his mother—when the separation came? Ay, and -brothers, and sisters, and father too, as he was about to depart with -him—real tears, to be sure; for, as much like their native oaks as -our genuine old English race were in their hardihood and endurance of -storms, their hearts were of the tenderest—in the right place. A still -severer feeling of desolation was experienced by Tom and his father -when they parted at Hull; but Tom "girt up the loins of his mind," and -buried his sorrow in listening to the sailors' talk, and in thinking -of his coming adventures. - -And now "the history of Cockle Tom" may end; for our purpose is not -to write a long story, but to show how a simple and yet truly noble -character may be formed: and that purpose is accomplished as well as we -are able to reach it. For the remainder of Cockle Tom's life,—it was -that of the true English sailor,—full of generosity and noble daring, -shaded, here and there, with a dash of passion, or a fit of insobriety -at the end of a long voyage of suffering, but tinted to brilliancy -with many an act of exalted sacrifice. Five voyages Cockle Tom made to -Greenland, or the Straits; three to the West Indies, and one to the -East; six times he passed through the Straits of Gibraltar and visited -Malta, or Corfu, or Constantinople; and four times he voyaged to the -Guinea coast, ere he reached the age of thirty. That was the limit of -his life; but he had saved as many lives as he numbered years by that -time. As an expert swimmer,—as a soul that would venture even into the -jaws of death to save a drowning man,—as a shipmate that would always -take the severer share of toil and ease another,—as an agile and -clever mariner that was unexcelled in the rapidity and perfection with -which he could execute any manoeuvre in the management of his ship,—as -the heart of fun and merriment,—and as the lad whose purse was ever at -the command of a brother in need,—Cockle Tom was the glory and pride -of every "true British tar" who knew him. - -And how fresh did his filial love remain amidst separation and newness -of scene! His father and mother kept that sacred corner in his heart, -perfectly unrivalled, for many a long year; and when he admitted -another fair image there it was not allowed to encroach upon the -consecrated room occupied by the old ones. He loved his wife, whom he -married at five-and-twenty, and she deserved his love; but he did not -love his parents the less for that. They received many a solid proof -of his affection, although they seldom saw him; and the news of his -death, though it did not distract them with unseemly grief, dimmed the -brightness of their declining days. - -Cockle Tom lay in harbour at Hull, after his return from the fourth -Guinea voyage: his vessel was delivered of its cargo: a friend had -written "home" for him,—for his father's cottage was "home" with him, -even after he had married and had a little neat house in Hull. On the -morrow, his young wife and himself were to have set out to see his aged -parents once more, when, in the fineness of the evening, while numerous -pleasure-boats were jostling each other in the narrow space of the -harbour, thronged as it was with large and small craft, one boat upset, -and five human lives were in danger. In a moment, Tom had plunged from -the deck where he stood, and the next moment had placed two in safety -in one of the boats: a second struggle, and two more were rescued; but, -in attempting to save the last, the dying struggler, or the cramp, -overpowered him, and he sunk to rise no more! Such was the consistent -end of the life of Cockle Tom,—the "true British sailor." - -"A bold peasantry, their country's pride," are fast fading: may our -other twin jewel in English national character—the noble sailor—ever -preserve its lustre! - - - - -THE -LAST DAYS OF AN OLD SAILOR; -OR, -"BUTTER YOUR SHIRT! -SING TANTARA-BOBUS, MAKE SHIFT!" - - -Among the few survivors of our "glorious" sea-fights which the Peace -sent home to Gainsbro', a busy little port on the Trent, was old -Matthew Hardcastle, a veteran of threescore and ten, and something -more. It was said that Matthew might have been discharged from -ship-board some years earlier; but his attachment to the sea was -extreme, and he was at length, to speak plainly, forced out of the navy. - -Gainsbro' was, at that particular period, somewhat fertile in the -production of eccentric folk, for Joe Hornby was then to be seen in it, -with his hat stuck full of field flowers, and sometimes, to the peril -of its "crown," fixed on his head wrong side upwards, because "the -world was turned upside down;" and the septuagenarian spinster, Nelly -Fish, might be seen flaunting along the narrow causeway, her strange -pile of five or six straw hats, which she wore one upon another, -to show that "she knew all the fashions that had been, as well as -those that were;"—and Martin Jackson would, ever and anon, sally -forth in some odd guise that demonstrated his lunacy; for to-day he -might be seen covered with papers on which were written all kinds of -queer criticisms on the rulers of the day, and to-morrow he would go -through the streets clad in his wife's chemise for an outer robe, and -wearing an old horseman's helmet with a fox's tail for a plume, while -half-a-dozen terriers yelped away at his heels, following thick and -fast to the mad hunter's cries of "Yo-ho! yo-ho! Hark forward! Tantivy! -Yo-ho! yo-ho!" - -Such were some of the strange relics of humanity which afforded grave -problems for those who were able to moralise, or thought they were, -at that time, in Gainsbro'; but, amidst all and sundry of its human -catalogue, none of the curious articles thereof attracted more general -attention, as they passed to and fro in the streets of the little -town, than the veteran warrior-seaman, Matthew Hardcastle. Indeed, -Matthew was beheld, by "gentle and simple," in a different light to the -eccentrics, poor things! before mentioned. The world, in spite of its -conviction that it is wrong to laugh, laughs on at the antics and whims -of the helpless beings it calls "insane;" and Gainsbro' followed the -way of the world in laughing, too often, at poor Joe Hornby, and Nelly -Fish, and Martin Jackson; but it was by no means a custom to laugh at -Matthew Hardcastle. - -Matthew was a tall, well-built old fellow, and did not lose an inch -of his height, notwithstanding his very advanced age. His brave face -resembled more the gnarled bark of an old oak than any other thing that -ever existed; it was a real sea-faring face, was Matthew's, if ever a -man wore one in this world. And then his wig! All the town talked of -Matthew Hardcastle's wig. It did not fall below the shoulders, like the -princely-looking old wigs of the days of Marlborough; but it was a very -grand, burly wig, for all that. It reached below the ears of the fine -old man, considerably; and it displayed five tiers of curls,—glorious -curls they were! Matthew's grand three-cocked hat, too,—for he and -old George Laughton, the currier, with his soul of independence, and -Charley Careless, the little high-spirited silversmith, were the -three last men in Gainsbro' who refused to put away the splendid -head-covering of their forefathers for the paltry upper gear of modern -times,—Matthew's three-cocked hat stood higher behind than it did -before, and, conjoined with the grandeur of his wig, caused Matthew to -look as bold and imposing as a brigadier major! And whoever met Matthew -on the causeway, rocking as he went with a regular naval kind of -motion, and supporting his aged steps by a bamboo in either hand, was -sure to say, "Good morning to you, Matthew! I hope you are quite well -this morning!" if they were considered to be his equals or superiors -in rank; while all the little boys and girls were wont to stop and -bow or courtesy to him, and say, "Your sarvant, Matthew!" Such was the -real honour paid to the aged sailor who had fought "the battles of his -country," as they were called. - -The time came, however, when all this show of respect to the brave -old sailor ceased, for he lived too long! Twenty more years made his -age hard upon one hundred. That was a rare age to live; but it would -have been better for Matthew if he had died ten years earlier, for he -lived till the effects of the "glorious" battles in which he had been -engaged began to be felt—and felt grievously, even in that district, -which you will deem comparatively happy when viewed after your mind's -eye has been dwelling on the fathomless miseries of our dense hives of -manufacture. He lived till hungry and ragged labourers began to stand -daily in melancholy groups, and with folded arms, in the streets, and -till the parish authorities began to talk of pulling down the old -workhouse, to build a new "bastile" on the lovely green spot where the -children used to resort to play at sand-mills! - -Matthew felt the change in the "civilisation," as it was called, of -the times, sensibly, as old as he was; but there was an inexhaustible -spring of vivacity in the old seaman's noble nature, and in spite of -age, infirmities, and bad times, Matthew Hardcastle was the merriest, -as well as the oldest man in Gainsbro'. "Butter your shirt, sing -tantara-bobus make shift!" Matthew would say, morning, noon, and night, -when the poor would be uttering their plaints in his ears; and the -whimsical saying, together with the jolly old fellow's way of uttering -it, many a time turned the mourning of his neighbours into mirth. - -One day, a stranger heard this singular saying, as he was journeying -through the town, and passing by the street end of the alley where -Matthew was leaning on his two sticks to take the evening air, and -chatting with his neighbours, according to his custom. The traveller -could not fail to be struck with the saying, for he had heard it -before; and he had seen the veteran who uttered it before, though it -was many a long year since. The traveller stopped, and gazed on the old -sailor for a moment or two, and then stretched out his aged hand—for -he, too, was an old man—to grasp the hand of his ancient friend. - -"Matthew Hardcastle! what, old Matthew!" he exclaimed. - -Matthew stared, and seemed at a loss for a few seconds; but, at length, -he let one stick fall, as it were mechanically, and, clasping his old -friend's hand with the hearty gripe of a true sailor, cried aloud, -while the fire of his youth seemed once more to gleam from his eyes,— - -"What! Paul Perkins! God bless thy heart! Why, I thought—but God bless -thy heart and soul, how art thou?—I thought thou hadst gone to Davy's -locker ten or fifteen years ago!" - -"And I little thought that ever these old eyes were again to look upon -Matthew Hardcastle," replied Paul; "why, Lord save us, you must be an -amazing age! I am nearly threescore and ten, but you were a man in your -prime when I was but little older than a child, you know." - -"Butter your shirt, sing tantara-bobus make shift!" answered jolly -old Matthew; "what matters it how old one may be? We shall live till -we die—kill us that dare!" And the pair of sound-hearted old tars -burst into a merry laugh that came up so clearly from the well-spring -of their hearts as to create a kindred merriment through the curious -crowd, which had by this time begun to gather round them, in the narrow -street. - -"Well, but come, shipmate, this must not be a dry meeting," said Paul; -"suppose we step into the Red Lion, or the Black Horse, that I see on -the signs here, hard by, and wet our whistles together, once more. It -may be for the last time, you know, in this world." - -"Avast, heaving!" replied Matthew; "I have no objection for Molly -Crabtree, here, to fetch us a jack of rum or so, and we can have -it in my little berth; but my old head won't bear the racket of a -public-house now, Paul." - -"Well, well, have it your own way, Mat," replied the other; and the two -ancient men adjourned, as fast as their stiffened limbs would permit -them, to Matthew's little dwelling in the alley. - -Matthew's hammock—for he could never be persuaded to sleep in a -bed—was slung at one corner of the narrow room, and just under it was -placed his arm-chair. He would fain have given up his usual seat, on -this occasion, to his friend; but Paul Perkins had too much real and -untaught courtesy to accept of it. - -"No, no, keep on board your own ship, Matthew," he cried; "I won't do -any such thing: sit ye down, sit ye down." - -And so Matthew sat down, with this entreaty, and reared his two sticks -against the wall, and doffed his rare hat, and showed his wig in all -its glory. Paul looked round the room, and could not help indulging -in the natural exultation of a sailor. Nelson, and Howe, and Duncan, -and Rodney, showed their gallant faces, according to the best skill -of some humble limner, over the little mantelpiece: a fine model of a -first-rate man-of-war—the work of Matthew's own fingers in his younger -days—stood, in unapproachable pride, upon a little dresser on the -opposite side of the dwelling; and, above it, a curious tobacco-pipe, -from some foreign shore, curled its enormous length around three or -four nails driven into the wall, and displayed the painted image of -a black-a-moor's head, at its extremity. Other odd fragments of a -sailor's fondness, such as small carved "figure-heads" of vessels, -wrought with the pocket-knife, to relieve hours of tedium, pouches of -kangaroo-skin, the favourite repositories of the sailor's favourite -weed, pipe-stoppers of bone, cut into grotesque shapes, and such-like -nick-knackeries decorated the walls, till scarcely a bare patch of them -could be seen. - -"Well, and I suppose you're at home here, Mat, eh?" said Paul, his face -beaming with pleasure as he asked the question. - -A sudden and unwonted shade came over Matthew's countenance: "Hum!" -said he, gloomily, "liked the old Dreadnought better; but she's -now—God bless her!—only a hull, like me. But butter your shirt!" -cried the gallant-hearted old fellow, bursting into his prevailing -gaiety,—"sing tantara-bobus make shift! we shall live till we -die—kill us that dare!" And again the old lads set up a merry laugh in -unison, and were as happy, for the nonce, as the proudest monarchs in -christendom. - -Molly Crabtree now entered with the rum, and began to prepare the grog, -that real nectar for the sailor. The precious glass was mixed, and went -round over and over again; nor would the old sailors be said "nay" when -Molly looked modest about it: she was compelled to take a sip each time -when it came to her turn. Old shipmates were named, and the bravery -and virtues of the dead were honoured; hearty and kind wishes for the -welfare of the living were expressed; old stories were told, and the -joys of old times were recorded with a sigh; but sighing usually was -followed by a laugh amid the utterance of old Matthew's singular -expletive, "Butter your shirt! sing tantara-bobus make shift!" - -"Upon my honour, Mat," at length said Paul, for, as it began to grow -towards midnight, the phraseology of the ancient mariners began to grow -more consequential,—more by token that the "jack" of rum had now been -repeated, for the third time—"upon my honour, Mat, you and I were no -skinkers in that hot action when you first wore the buttered shirt." - -"Why, Lord ha' marcy on us!" cried Molly Crabtree, who had been -listening all along, and staring like an owl at twilight, during the -successive strange recitals of the two old seafarers,—"did Matthew -ever wear a real buttered shirt, then? For Heaven's sake tell us the -meaning on't!" - -"That I will, ma'am," said Paul touching his hat as gallantly as an -admiral; "you see, it was during a severe engagement with the Dutchmen -that Mat and I were ordered to the main-top,—but hardly had we reached -it, when a shot from the enemy cut our mainmast fairly in two, and -hurled us both on to the enemy's deck, in the midst of more than a -hundred heavy-bottomed Dutchmen! To dream of fighting against such -odds, ma'am, you'll understand was, of course, out of all question; so -we quietly walked our bodies, to the tune of 'donner and blitzen,' down -below, to become close prisoners under hatches. Now it so happened, -d'ye see, ma'am? that the only fellow-prisoners we found in the hole -where they crammed us were cheeses and queer big tubs; and we felt a -nat'ral sort of a curiosity to rummage about the hole, when left in -the dark by ourselves. Clambering up some o' these huge tubs at one -end of the hole, we both lost footing together, and fell head over -heels into the midst of something that was remarkably soft; and there -we struggled, and struggled hard, too,—but 'twas all in vain, we -could not flounder out,—and so were content to remain closed on all -sides up to the neck, with just our heads bobbing out, and gasping for -breath. Shiver my timbers, if ever I was so pickled before or since! At -length the Dutchman was taken; and when some of our lads made their way -into the dark hole where we were, we began to hail 'em."—"Dreadnought -a-hoy!" said Mat: "The Union Jack a-hoy!" said I: "Who's there, in the -devil's name?" cried one: "Why that's old Mat Hardcastle's growl—where -the devil is he?" said first one of our lads and then another. And, as -sure as you're there, ma'am," continued Paul, growing more polite and -gallant as he proceeded, "what with one noise or another, it wasn't -until the lads had driven their marling-spikes through almost every -cask in the hole, that Mat and I were discovered up to the neck in one -of the Dutchmen's big butter firkins. We were a good deal ashamed, -ma'am, o' course, being as how we were soaked to the skin in the -grease, for it warmed, as we stuck in it; and no doubt by its melting, -we should ha' been able to have got out of it without help, if we had -had to stay much longer before we had been found. The worst of it was, -we could not get time to strip for some hours after, and this made us -both mighty uneasy, for many was the joke that was passed upon us as -to how we liked our buttered shirts. But Mat's heart was always light, -all his life long; and he answered all who asked that saucy question, -just as he puts by all sorrow now, with "Butter _your_ shirt! Sing -tantarara-bobus make shift!—and ever since then Matthew has kept his -saying; and it is not a bad one, either, let me tell you, ma'am! what -think ye?" concluded Paul Perkins, and took a stiffer pull at the grog -than he had ever done that night, thinking that he deserved it for his -cleverness, and feeling himself entitled to a double pull because he -had missed his turn by telling this yarn. - -Molly Crabtree only answered with a hearty laugh, and Paul laughed too, -but Matthew laughed louder and longer than either of them, for he was -'a practised laugher, and lived by it,' as he used jokingly to say. But -now the fourth measure of grog was done, and it was too late to buy -more; so the conversation began to grow less boisterous. Molly rose -to depart; and the two veterans were left by themselves. Paul urged -Matthew to get into his hammock, and Matthew urged Paul; but neither -could prevail on the other, and so at last they fairly fell asleep in -their chairs, and neither of them awoke,—though they each snored -as loud as a rhinoceros,—until Molly Crabtree came and opened the -shutters some hours after sunrise the ensuing morning. Their limbs were -tolerably stiff, and their heads ached beyond a joke, it may easily be -guessed, for it was many a long day since either of them had gone to -sleep groggy. They made the best of their aches and pains, however, -when they awoke, and, after a hearty renewed gripe of friendship, -thrust each a lumping quid of tobacco into his mouth, and then quietly -awaited the preparation of breakfast by Molly Crabtree. - -Now, as natural as our forefathers always reckoned it to be to get -drunk, or, at least, tipsy, with an old friend, when you met him after -a long absence or separation, yet it was always felt to be not less -natural that the cosy companions of the preceding night talked like -sober men the next morning. So it was with Matthew Hardcastle and Paul -Perkins. - -"Matthew,—I've been thinking," began Paul, very measuredly, as he was -sipping the cocoa-sop out of a bright brown earthen porringer, with a -spoon, in imitation of his host,—"I've been thinking,—we shall soon -be in our last port." - -"True, very true," said Matthew, "and, d'ye know, Paul? I would not -much care if we had the same voyage to go again, save and except a -little at the end on't." - -"Then we don't think alike," said Paul, dropping his spoon into the -porringer, and looking thoughtful: "I'm sure, Mat, you'll bear me -witness that I'm no skinkerly coward; but, splice me, if I don't think -that all this warring and fighting, and blowing up of poor men's limbs -is, after all, a great piece of wickedness. And, besides that, I've -thought very much of late,—and particularly since I've seen the times -change so much,—that this setting of poor Englishmen on to fight poor -foreigners, and poor foreigners to fight poor Englishmen, is only a -deep scheme, on the part of the rich abroad and the rich at home, to -keep the poor down." - -"Say you so, Paul?" exclaimed Matthew, also resting his spoon on the -brim of the porringer, and looking very intently upon his friend; "why, -you know, Paul, if we had not gone to fight the foreigners, they would -have come to fight us." - -"But who amongst 'em was it that wanted to fight? just think of that, -Matthew," rejoined Paul, very earnestly. "You and I had no quarrel with -the French, or the Dutch, or the Spaniard, you know. And what poor -foreigners, think you, had any quarrel with the people here? No, no, -depend on it, Matthew, the poor never made these wars, nor ever thought -of fighting, or wished to fight, on either side: it was the rich—'our -betters,' as they are called—who began the quarrel, and then pushed -us, or dragged us, into it, to lose our limbs, or shed our blood, or -escape if we could." - -"'Pon my word," said Matthew, shaking his wig, very significantly, -"I've had some such thoughts as these now and then,—and you're -making a strong yarn on't, Paul, I confess,—but what's the use of -muddling one's old brains with such things? You know what I always say, -Paul,—'Butter your shirt——" - -"Nay, but avast a bit, Mat," said Paul, looking invincibly serious; "we -are getting fast into our last port, as I said before; and, if we have -been unthinking fools all our lives, I don't see why we should not open -our eyes and look about us a bit, before we step on the last shore. -Times are harder now than ever you and I knew 'em; and, as much fuss -as there used to be made about an old seaman, all that sort of thing -is gone. I question if you and I live a few years longer, and grow -cranky,—and, God knows, I begin to feel queer, night and morning,—but -folks will grow weary of waiting on us, and the parish wolves will haul -us away to the workhouse, and pocket our little pensions." - -"God Almighty forbid!" ejaculated Matthew, very fervently. - -"But 'tis very likely to come to pass, however, let me tell you," -rejoined Paul; "you knew Jerry Simpson: he was berthsman with us, -if you remember, and lost an arm at Trafalgar. He wouldn't go into -Greenwich college, but went and settled in Shoreditch, with his old -sister. She died two twelvemonths ago, and poor old Jerry soon grew -helpless—so they took him into the parish poor-house, pocketing his -pension, and he died there, of sheer grief, about six months ago. That -was a rum reward for fighting for his country so bravely as Jerry -did——" - -"By G—d it was!" exclaimed old Matthew, involuntarily—for the -fine old fellow had not uttered an oath for years before: "the Lord -ha' mercy upon me for swearing, poor old sinner that I am!" he -continued:—"but you don't say that that's true about Jerry Simpson, do -you, Paul? why he used to rush into a gun-boat like a ravenous wolf! -Shiver my old timbers! but a braver sailor than Jerry never stepped -upon deck!" - -"'Pon the word of a sailor, what I have said is true," replied Paul, -"for I saw it with my own sorrowful eyes. But now don't you perceive, -Matthew," resumed Paul, eager to take advantage of the impression this -fact had made, "that the change in the state of things is owing to the -heavy taxes caused by the war, and——" - -"Why, you see, Paul, I don't understand these things," said Matthew, -impatiently; "but I feel you are right about us poor dogs never wishing -to bite the foreigners—for I never had such a thought till I got on -board ship. But why is it that great folks wish to shed blood at such -a rate? What do they want, and what would they have? 'Zounds! if I -have but my bit o' bacco, and can rest at night, I'm as happy as any of -'em. And then, again, Paul, why is it—excuse me, Paul, if I seem to -talk foolish; I'm older than you, but you always had more book larning, -I'm well aware—why is it that the poor don't let the rich fight their -battles themselves, if they want any fighting?" - -"Why, there, now, you old billy-goat!" exclaimed Paul, laughing; "you -know that both you and I were dragged off by the press-gang, just as we -were about to step on shore at Wapping; and were not thousands hauled -away, in the same manner, throughout the war? 'Why is it that we don't -let 'em fight their own battles themselves' indeed! why, you know, Mat, -the poor dogs are compelled to obey the rich ones, in this world. What -I want you to see is that the rich dogs make these wars on purpose to -keep the poor dogs under. And yet I don't know, Matthew, that either -you or I can alter things: it is past our time o' life; and, besides, I -believe the whole consarn will before long tumble to pieces of itself, -for the world's about tired of it." - -"Blow me!" exclaimed Matthew, completely wearied of the subject, and -anxious to resume his usual careless and happy vein, "if I can see the -use of all your palaver, Paul: you may be right, in the main, but then -you make no sail, take as many tacks as you will. You still end by -saying the poor dogs are forced to bark and bite as the rich dogs bid -'em; and you own that we're both too old to do aught towards bettering -things; and, besides, you say the consarn's doomed to fall to pieces by -its own rottenness; and so, instead of bothering my old brains about -it, I still say, as I did when we got out of the Dutchmen's firkin, -'Butter your shirt! sing tantarara-bobus make shift!'" - -The argument was ended with a hearty laugh on both sides, for, as -toughly as Paul had spun his yarn, it was clear, from his last -observation, that he was beginning to esteem his work as "labour in -vain." That day and another passed in calling old times to mind; and, -on the fourth day, the two ancient friends and fellows in many a storm -and broil, parted, never to meet again on the lee-shore of Time. - -Old Matthew Hardcastle kept up his gaiety of heart till his last day, -though that day was, to the full, as doleful as his trusty friend Paul -Perkins had prognosticated it would be. Reader,—if ever it falls in -your way to visit old Gainsbro', you will learn that, in the main, -what I am about to relate is too true. In proportion as Matthew became -helpless, people were wearied with waiting upon him; and, disgraceful -to relate! the old warrior-seaman was, at length, neglected till his -aged body swarmed with filth. Instead of respect, disgust was now -expressed for him, by an unreasonable world. Paul Perkins' prophecy -came true to the letter: the parish "worthies" came to "take care of -him;" they took him to the poor-house; he was stripped stark-naked -in the wash-house; and cold water was "swabbed," as he himself would -have said, upon his aged body to cleanse him! Even in that moment, the -brave companion of Howe and Nelson strove to keep up the gaiety of -his noble heart, and once essayed his old saying, "Butter your shirt! -sing"——But his aged lips quivered, and his jaws chattered with the -cold,—and his bold old heart broke with the barbarous treatment he was -undergoing! - -Oh! this is a world of wrong; and it will take a great deal of effort -to right it, if ever it be righted at all. Reader! if you even think, -with Paul Perkins, that the bad system under which so many groan, will, -at length, fall to pieces by virtue, or rather by the vice, of its own -imperfections,—is it not, still, sensible and philanthropic to be -doing what little we can to hasten what we feel to be "a consummation -devoutly to be wished?" - - - - -DOROTHY PYECROFT'S PREACHING; -OR, -"CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME." - - -All the world, in the village of Sturton-le-Steeple, had said so, -before the time of old Dorothy Pyecroft; but Dorothy did not join all -the world in saying so. Sturton is a homely little place, situate in -the pleasant shire of Nottingham, and lying within a couple of miles -of the Trent, and old Lincolnshire; and its church steeple forms a -pretty object in the landscape which you view from the hills above -Gainsboro'. Dorothy Pyecroft, from the time that she was a child but -the height of a table, went to Gainsboro' market with butter, eggs, or -poultry, as regularly as Tuesday returned in each week; for the hearty -old dame used commonly to boast that she had never known what it was -to have a day's illness in her life, although, at the season we are -beginning to gossip about, she was full threescore and ten. It was a -bonny sight to see the dame go tripping o'er the charming lea which -spreads its flowery riches from Sturton-le-Steeple to the banks of -noble Trent, by four of the clock on a gay summer's morning, with the -clean milking-pail under her arm, that was bare to the elbow. You would -have thought, at a distance, she had been some blithe maiden in her -teens. And then the cheerful and clear tone in which she summoned her -cows, calling to them as kindly as if they were her children—"Come, my -pratty creatures!" a call that was the signal for a treat of pleasing -pastoral music to the enthusiastic early angler on the Trent: the rich, -varied "low" of the cows,—alto, tenor, and bass,—answered that call, -in changeful echo across the stream; the angler's delighted ear caught -a treble, heavenward, from the matin lark, to complete the "harmony;" -and even the cackling of the geese, uttering their confused joy at the -sound of the dame's voice, seemed to mingle no unpleasing "discord" -with the natural chorus. By the time that her morning's milking was -over, the spoilt maidens of the village were only beginning to open -their kitchen window-shutters; and she usually passed the whole train -of them, loitering and chattering about their sweethearts, on their -way to the lea, as she returned home, with the rich load upon her -head, and her arms fixed as properly a-kimbo as could be shown by the -sprightliest lass that ever carried a milking-pail. Some little shame -was commonly felt among the loiterers as they passed the exemplary old -woman,—but it did not result in their reformation. Old Farmer Muxloe, -who was always abroad at daybreak, and usually chatted a few moments -with the dame just at the point where the footpath crossed the bridle-way -over the lea, often commented, in no very measured terms, on the decline -of discipline among milk-maids since the days when he was a lad. - -"Ah, dame!" he used to say, "there have been sore changes since you -and I used to take a turn around the maypole; I'm sure the world gets -lazier and lazier every day." - -"Why, you see, neighbour, fashions change," the old dame would -reply—for she ever loved to take the more charitable side of a -question; "maybe, things may change again, and folk may take to getting -up earlier, after a few more years are over." - -"I'faith, I've little hope on't," the old farmer would reply, and shake -his head, and smile; "but there's nobody like thee, Dolly, for taking -the kindest side." - -"Why, neighbour, I always think it the best," Dorothy would rejoin, -with a benevolent smile; "I never saw things grow better by harsh words -and harsh thinkings, in my time." - -And then the old farmer would smile again, and say, "Well, well, that's -just like thee! God bless thee, Dolly, and good morning to thee!" and -away he would turn Dobbin's head, and proceed on his usual morning's -ride from field to field. - -The work of her little dairy, added to the care of a humble household, -composed of an infirm and helpless husband, and an equally infirm -maiden sister,—with, all and sundry, a stout house-dog, two -tabby-cats, and a fruitful poultry-yard,—usually occupied Dorothy -Pyecroft through the bustling forenoon of each day; and when there -was no immediate call upon her skill and benevolence among sick -neighbours,—for she was the cleverest herb-woman in the village, and -exercised her knowledge of the healing art without fee, or willing -acceptance even of thanks,—she would sit in her polished high-backed -chair, and work through the livelong afternoon at her spinning-wheel, -drowsing her two infirm companions into a salutary rest and -forgetfulness with the humming monotony of her labour, but revolving -within her own mind many a useful and solemn thought, meanwhile. - -Dorothy sat absorbed in this her favourite employ, one afternoon -in autumn, when an itinerant pedlar made his customary call at the -cottage-door. The dame's mind was so deeply involved in the contrivance -of one of her little plans of benevolence, that she did not recognise -the face of the traveller until he had addressed her twice. - -"Any small wares for children? any needles, pins, or thimbles?" cried -the pedlar, running through the list of his articles with the glibness -of frequent repetition. - -"No, Jonah: I want none," replied the dame, kindly; "but, maybe, you'll -take a horn o' beer, and a crumb or two o' bread and cheese?" - -The pedlar assented, well pleased, and lowered the pack from his -shoulders, and set down the basket from his hand, next seating himself -in a chair without the ceremonial of asking, and in all the gladsome -confidence of welcome. - -"Thank you, thank you, dame," he said, and smacked his lips with -pleasurable anticipation, as he took the horn of smiling beer and the -piece of bread and cheese from the dame's hand. - -"You're welcome, Jonah," replied the dame, heartily. "Have you walked -far to-day? and what luck have you had?" - -"I've come twenty miles, and have never taken handsel yet, dame," -answered Jonah, in a melancholy tone. - -"So, poor heart!" said Dorothy, very pitifully; "I must buy a trifling -dozen of needles of thee, however, before thou goest. I fear times are -hard, Jonah: I hear many and grievous complaints." - -"Times are harder than ever I knew them to be, dame, I assure you," -rejoined Jonah; "and they that have a little money seem most determined -to hold it fast. Sore murmurings are made about this by poor folk: but -I don't wonder at it, myself," concluded the worldly pedlar, "for, in -such sore times as these, there's no knowing what a body may come to -want: and, as the old saying goes, you know, dame, 'Charity begins at -home!'"—and Jonah buried his nose in the ale-horn, thinking he had -said something so wisely conclusive that it could not be contradicted. - -"They say it was a parson who first used that saying," observed -Dorothy, glancing from her wheel, very keenly, towards the pedlar; -"but, for my part, Jonah, I am very far from thinking it such a saying -as a parson ought to use." - -"Say you, dame?" said Jonah, opening his eyes very wide. - -"Did charity begin at home with their master?" said Dorothy, by way of -explanation. - -"Ah, dame!" said the pedlar, quickly discerning Dorothy's meaning, "I -fear but few parsons think of imitating their master now-a-days!" - -"That's more than I like to say," observed the gentle Dorothy; "I think -there are more good people in the world than some folk think for;—but -I'm sure, Jonah, we all want a better understanding of our duty towards -each other." - -"Right, Dame Dorothy, right!—that's the best sort of religion; but -there's the least of it in this world," rejoined the pedlar. - -"Why, Jonah," continued the good dame, "I think there might easily be a -great deal more good in the world than there is. Every body ought to -remember how many little kindnesses it is in their power to perform for -others, without any hurt to themselves." - -"Yes, a sight o'good might be done in that way, dame," observed the -pedlar, beginning very much to admire Dorothy's remarks; "and how much -more happy the world would be then!" - -"Just so!" exclaimed Dorothy, her aged face beaming with benevolence; -"that is the true way of making the world happy, for all to be trying -to do their fellow-creatures some kindness. And then, you see, Jonah, -when once the pleasure of thus acting began to be felt, there would -soon be a pretty general willingness to make greater efforts, and -even sacrifices of self-interest, as it is wrongly called, in order -to experience greater pleasure, and likewise to increase the world's -happiness." - -"Truly, dame," said the pedlar, "you do me good to hear you talk. I'm -but a poor scholar; yet I can tell, without book, that you must be -right." - -"But then, you see, Jonah," continued the dame, half unconscious of -Jonah's last observation, "if every body were to say, 'Charity begins -at home,' this general happiness would never begin. I like best, Jonah, -to think of the example of the Blessed Being who came into the world -to do us all good. He went about pitying the miserable and afflicted, -and healing and blessing them. Charity did not begin at home with him, -Jonah!" - -The tears were now hastening down Jonah's rough cheeks. How forcible -are lessons of goodness! how irresistibly the heart owns their power! -Jonah could not support the conversation further. Dorothy's plain and -unaffected remarks sunk deep in to his bosom; and when he rose up, and -buckled on his pack once more, and the aged dame gave him "handsel," or -first money for the day, by purchasing a few pins and needles, the poor -pedlar bade her farewell in an accent that showed he felt more than -common thankfulness for her kindness. - -Alas! this is a world where good impressions are, too often, speedily -effaced by bad ones. Jonah called, next at the gate of a wealthy -squire, and, with hat in hand, asked for leave to go up to the -kitchen-door and expose his wares to the servants. The squire refused; -and when Jonah pleaded his poverty, and ventured to remonstrate, the -squire frowningly threatened to set the dogs upon him, if he did not -instantly decamp! Jonah turned away, and bitterly cursed the unfeeling -heart of the rich man,—avowing, internally, that Dorothy Pyecroft was -only a doating old fool,—for, after all, "Charity begun at home!" - -Scarcely had the pedlar taken twenty steps from Dame Dorothy's cottage, -ere the village clergyman knocked at her door. The dame knew the young -parson's "rap-rap-rap!" It was quick and consequential, and unlike the -way of knocking at a door used by any one else in Sturton, who thought -it necessary to be so ceremonious as to give notice before they entered -their neighbour's dwelling. Dame Dorothy ceased her spinning, and rose -to open the door, curtesying with natural politeness, and inviting her -visitor to be seated. - -"Thank ye!" said the parson, raising his brows superciliously, putting -the hook-end of his hunting-whip to his mouth, and striding about the -floor in his spurred boots; "sit you down, I beg, Dame Pyecroft! sit -you down—I'll not sit, thank ye!" - -"I fear, sir, there is a great deal of suffering at present," said -Dorothy, sitting down, and fixing her mild blue eyes upon the -thoughtless young coxcomb, and feeling too earnestly in love with -goodness to lose any opportunity of recommending its glorious lessons. - -"Oh!—suffering!—ay!" observed the young clergyman, in a tone that -showed he did not know what it was to think seriously: "you know there -always was a difference between the rich and the poor." - -"But do you not think, sir, that the rich might lessen the difference -between themselves and the poor, without injuring themselves?" asked -Dorothy, in a tone of mild but firm expostulation. - -"Why, as to that, I can't say exactly," replied the parson, apparently -brought to a halt in his thoughtlessness, and unable to extricate -himself from the difficulty in which his ignorance placed him; "I can't -say exactly; but, you know, Dame Pyecroft, some people have nothing to -give away, though they may be better off than many of the poor: with -such people, you know, Dame Pyecroft, the old proverb holds good, that -'Charity begins at home.'" - -"I am grieved to hear _you_ quote that proverb, sir," said Dorothy; -"I had just been exerting my poor wits to show that that saying was -not a right one, in the hearing of poor Jonah the pedlar, before your -reverence came in." - -"Not a right saying, Dame Pyecroft? Why, you know it is a very -old-established saying; and I think it a very shrewd one," rejoined the -clergyman. - -"But it is not so old as the New Testament, sir," replied Dorothy, with -a winning smile; "and as shrewd as it is, do you think, sir, it was -ever acted upon by your Great Master?" - -The young clergyman took his hook-whip from his mouth, laid it on the -table, took out his pocket-handkerchief, and, blushing up to the eyes, -sat down before he attempted an answer to the good old dame's meek but -powerful question. - -"You will remember, Dame Dorothy," he said, at length, "that the -Saviour was in very different circumstances to all other human beings -that ever lived." - -"But you will remember, sir," rejoined Dorothy, in the same mildly -pertinacious manner, "that that Blessed Being said to his disciples, 'I -have given you an example, that ye shall do as I have done to you: if I -have washed your feet, ye ought also to wash one another's feet.'" - -"Yes: that is very beautiful," said the young clergyman, feeling the -irresistible force of goodness, and speaking as if he had never read -the passage in the book for himself: "the Saviour's example is very -beautiful." - -"And does not your reverence perceive how easy and delightful it would -be for every one to begin to follow it?" immediately rejoined Dorothy, -taking advantage of the good impression which, she saw, was being made -on the mind of the young parson; "how easily might all who have enough -give even of their little superfluity; how easily might we all do each -other kindnesses which would cost us nothing! What solid pleasure this -would bring back upon each of our hearts; and how surely it would lead -us to make sacrifices, in order to experience the richer pleasure of -doing greater good! Oh, sir," concluded the good old creature, with -a tear that an angel might envy gliding down her aged and benevolent -cheek, "I cannot think that any one knows the secret of true happiness -who practises the precept—'Charity begins at home!'" - -The young and inexperienced man gazed with a strange expression at -his new and humble teacher. This was better preaching than he had ever -heard or practised. His heart had been misled, but not thoroughly -vitiated, by a selfish and falsely styled "respectable" education. -He was too much affected to prolong the conversation then; but he -became, from that time, a pupil at the feet of the aged Dorothy. His -fine manners were laid aside. He became a real pastor. He was, from -that day, more frequently in the cottages of the poor, twenty times -over, than in the houses of the rich. He distributed of his substance -to relieve the wants of others, and lived himself upon little. He -forgot creeds to preach goodness, and pity, and mercy, and love. He -preached till he wept, and his audiences wept with him. His life was -an embodiment of the virtues he inculcated. And when, in the course of -five short years, he laid down his body in the grave, a victim to the -earnest conviction of his mind, the poor crowded around his hallowed -resting-place with streaming eyes, and loving, but afflicted hearts, -wishing they might be where he was when they died, since they were sure -his presence, they said, of itself would make a heaven! - -The young clergyman interred Dorothy Pyecroft but half a year before -his own departure; and her last words were words of thankfulness that -ever she had shown the young man the fallacy of the proverb—"Charity -begins at home." - - - - -THE -MINISTER OF MERCY. - - -Leicester has the appearance of a new town as you glance at it, in your -rapid course on the Midland Counties Railway. And, if the "locomotives" -halt for a few minutes at a point on the line where you have a full -view of the goodly borough, the momentary impression which numerous -ancient church-towers gives you of the real antiquity of the place is -soon effaced by the extensive rows of newly-built houses that stretch -away on every side till they appear to cover almost the entire populous -area on which you are gazing. Successive gusts of prosperity for the -manufacturers, occurring at various periods during the last forty -years,—too often followed by severe depressions,—have in fact swelled -the town to more than double its size at the close of the last century. - -Yet a few days' sojourn in the borough would afford a lover of -antiquity no inferior treat. The massive wall and arched vaults of a -ruin, believed to have formed part of a temple of Janus during the -ages that Britain was under Roman sway,—the ivied remains of the noble -abbey where the imperious and vice-regal Wolsey "laid his bones,"—the -sternly frowning "Newarke," or entrance-tower to the castle of the -Grantmesnels, Bellomonts, Blanchmaines, De Montforts, Plantagenets, -and other proud Earls of Leicester,—the solitary wooded mound on -which the castle itself anciently stood,—the rich minute carving of -the old churches,—the quaint interior of the old town-hall,—the -grotesque exterior of much of the really ancient part of the town, -composed of dwellings striped with timber and plaster, and decked with -ornamented or overhanging gables,—dwellings wherein the soldiers -of the fated kingly Crookt-back were billeted on the night before -Bosworth-field,—these, and sundry other features of historic chronicle -and change, could not fail to awaken eager interest in an antiquarian. -Our story, however, concerns itself less with the outward than the -inward, and regards rather the misery of the living than the pride of -the dead. - -Passing along the ancient line of highway from York to London, from -the churchless burial-yard of St. Leonard, over the old North bridge, -revealing the meandering Soar and the meadows of the old monks; by the -curious Gothic west-door of the very ancient church of All Saints, -that almost compels you to stop and look at it; and then, by the -transverse streets, where the venerable "high cross" was taken down -but a few years ago, and reaching that part of the ancient principal -line of street called "Southgate," where modern Goths so lately took -down that most interesting historical relic, the house in which the -last regal Plantagenet slept the night before his death; (a splendid -gable filled with a world of old English associations, and breathing -a wholesome lesson to despotism from every atom of its mouldering -substance!) the traveller would come to a ruinous-looking entry of a -street on his right, bearing the chivalrous designation of "Red Cross -Street." At the door of a low, crumbling house about halfway down this -ancient bye-street, a dissenting minister stopped one winter's evening -some eight-and-twenty years ago, to make his usual call of duty and -benevolence. His gentle knock, however, was not answered; and, before -he could repeat it, he was saluted hastily by a rich manufacturer, a -member of his congregation, who was passing by on some business errand. - -"You are the very man I wanted to see," said the minister in a very -earnest tone, seizing the manufacturer by one arm, as if he feared the -man of business might feel disposed to escape him: "I want half an -hour's conversation with you, sir." - -"But I cannot stay now, sir," replied the manufacturer; "will you join -me in my morning ride in the gig to-morrow? Do, sir; it will do you -good." - -"I will, I will; thank you, sir," answered the minister, in a quick, -nervous way that seemed to be usual with him; and they shook hands with -great apparent fervour, and bid each other "good night." - -The dissenting minister did not find entrance into the low, -ruined-looking house, until a neighbour or two had forced open the -door. A light was then brought, and a picture of affecting interest was -revealed. A venerable silver-haired man lay breathing his last; and -by the side of his humble bed, with folded hands, knelt she who had -been the partaker of his joys and sorrows for sixty years, lost to all -consciousness except that of mental prayer for her departing husband. -The sound of the minister's voice seemed to arouse her for a moment; -but she relapsed again into complete obliviousness of all things, save -the one absorbing feeling created by the view of that gasping pallid -form that lay before her. So the minister knelt, likewise; and when -the neighbours who had entered with him had followed his example he -prayed audibly and earnestly, yet so reverently and pathetically, -that, while he prayed and wept, the neighbours thought themselves in -the presence of some superior being, with a soul of compass to embrace -and bless the whole human race, rather than a mere mortal. The face of -the dying man kindled, too, with wondrous feeling, when he heard the -sounds of that well-known and beloved voice, though he had seemed past -consciousness but a few moments before. And when the minister paused -in his petition, and saw the aged man's look fixed upon him, he said, -with unutterable sweetness and tenderness,— - -"William, my dear old friend, is all well within?—is your hope still -blooming and full of immortality?" - -The aged man raised his withered right hand with a last effort—waved -it thrice—smiled with an ineffable smile,—and expired! - -The minister was raising the aged and speechless widow from her -kneeling posture, and placing her in an arm-chair, when her married -daughter and several other neighbours entered the house of death. The -minister recognised the daughter, and, after committing the widow -earnestly to her care, emptied his waistcoat pocket of the silver -it contained, and gave it, without counting, into the hands of the -astonished young woman, who stood staring, while the good man snatched -up his hat, and, saying "God bless you all! I'll call again to-morrow: -God bless you all!" hurried away in a moment.—— - -A tall, grave-looking man, in the habit of a gentleman, bowed -courteously to the dissenting minister, as he was turning the corner of -the High Street, and, addressing him by his name, uttered the customary -observations on the severity of the weather. - -"Ah, my dear sir," spake the dissenting minister, unable, from the -state of his feelings, to answer in the same strain, "I wish I had had -you with me a quarter of an hour ago." - -"Why, sir?" asked the gentleman. - -"That you might have seen, for yourself, how a Christian can die," -answered the minister. - -"Ah!" replied the gentleman, with a look of serious concern, "there -you, and all truly Christian ministers, find a field of more exalted -enterprise than the whole world of turmoil and strife, put together, -can furnish. I envy you, my dear sir—I envy you, more than I can -express to you." - -"It is, indeed, a field of exalted, of truly glorious enterprise, the -visiting of death-beds—the pouring of heavenly consolation into the -spirit that is leaving its frail clay tabernacle, and the gladdening of -the human wretchedness which is left to mourn and weep," burst forth -the good minister, forgetting that he stood in the bleak, cold, open -street, and not in his pulpit; "but, oh, my good friend, what a dark, -disconsolate scene would your Free-thinking make of the chamber of -death, were it as universally spread as you wish it to be!" - -"It is there where you always have the advantage of me, sir," rejoined -the gentleman; "I have acknowledged it, again and again; and I feel the -force of that reflection so powerfully, sometimes, that I half resolve -to spend the remainder of my life in some scheme of philanthropy, and, -meanwhile, join in persuading men to believe Christianity, although I -do not believe its historical evidences are worth a straw——" - -"But that would be wrong, sir!" said the minister interrupting the -other, very earnestly. - -"So I think, sir," continued the gentleman; "and yet I feel sometimes -as if I should become guilty of a crime by striving to take away what -I regard as a pleasant deceit from men,—their chance, by imbibing a -full confidence in Christianity, of expiring not merely with calmness, -but with rapturous joy and triumph. Free-thinking will never enable -even the largest intellect, the most highly cultivated man, to die -thus; much less will it give such a death to an imperfectly educated -or ignorant man. But then, I reflect again, that it would be morally -and veritably criminal in me to join in strengthening what I sincerely -believe to be falsehood." - -"And so it would, sir," said the dissenting minister, taking the -gentleman's arm, who offered it, that they might walk on to avoid some -degree of the cold; "so it would, sir: it would render you a very -contemptible creature. Let me tell you, sir, that with all the delight -I experience in fulfilling some little of my duty as a Christian -minister, the remembrance of it would not move me one inch towards -the bed of a dying man with the view of offering him the consolations -of revealed religion—if I believed such consolations to be a mere -farce. I would scorn to mock him with false hopes. You know how deeply -I regret your scepticism, my dear sir; but I would not see you veil -it through a spurious tenderness. No, sir: truth and sincerity are -the purest jewels in human character; even pity and benevolence, -themselves, are gems of inferior water." - -"I wish all Christians were like yourself," said the gentleman, after a -pause of admiration for the great and good being with whom he felt it a -real privilege to walk; "but I see so little practice of goodness from -the hundreds around me who profess a religion that enthrones it, that -the sight tends much to confirm me in my old opinions." - -"Indeed, sir," observed the minister, in a very grave tone, "I must -tell you that you will be guilty of great self-deceit, if you imagine -that the wickedness of hypocrites, or the slackness of lukewarm -professors, will form a valid excuse for your rejection of Christ's -mission, should you, one day, prove it true." - -"I know it, my dear sir," replied the gentleman; "I know it well; -though I thank you for your kind and well-meant zeal in reminding me -of it. I will tell you one thought of mine, however,—and it is one -that fixes itself very forcibly before my judgment,—if callousness -to the sufferings of their workmen continues to increase among the -manufacturers as rapidly as it has increased for the last ten years, -Christianity will be openly scoffed at by the poor of the next -generation, in the very streets where we are now walking." - -"You have only expressed what I expressed last Sunday morning from my -own pulpit, sir," returned the minister,—seeming too deeply affected -with his strong belief of the probability of such an event to be able -to add more. - -"I hear that the wretched framework-knitters suffer more and more -from abatements of wages and other encroachments upon their means of -subsistence, of the most unfeeling and unprincipled character," resumed -the gentleman; "and although hundreds are without work at the present -time, and the complaints of suffering from want of food, fuel, and -clothing, are so loud and frequent, yet not a single rich manufacturer -of the many that profess religion, in Leicester, proposes to open -a public subscription for the poor, according to the humane custom -of past times. I heard a whisper that you had begun to stir up the -languid charity of some of your friends towards the commencement of a -subscription: was I rightly informed, sir?" - -"It is the very subject I intend to broach to Mr.——, to-morrow -morning," replied the minister, with an enthusiastic glow suffusing his -expressive face. - -"Please place your own name for that sum somewhere on the list," said -the gentleman, taking a note for 20_l._ out of his pocket-book and -giving it to the minister. - -The good preacher was trying to stifle his grateful tears, in order -to thank the sceptic,—but the latter bowed and strode away; and the -good preacher, as he walked towards his own house in deep reflective -silence, had many thoughts of the true interpretation of such words as -"infidel" and "Christian" that would have startled his audience, if he -had uttered them before it on the following Sunday. - -In spite of an agonised bodily system, the minister was early abroad -the next morning, and his glorious brow beamed with pleasure, when the -maid-servant announced that the rich manufacturer's gig was at the -door, and the conversation was near that he hoped would result in the -effective commencement of a subscription to relieve the misery, and -hunger, and cold, and disease, under which the depressed stockingers -and their families were groaning that severe winter. Yet the -philanthropist, with all his guilelessness, knew the man he had to deal -with, and proceeded in a somewhat circumlocutory way to his object. In -the end, he enforced the claims of man as a brother, the admirableness -and divinity of charity, and the indefeasible rights of the working man -as a substantial agent in the creation of wealth, with so much of the -potentiality of his transcendent eloquence, that the manufacturer, in -spite of the resistance his heart's avarice made to the godlike theme, -assented to the proposal that he should begin the public subscription. -But how heart-stricken with grief and shame did the golden-tongued -pleader feel when, on producing the little book he had prepared for -collecting the names of subscribers, the rich manufacturer hesitated as -soon as he had written his name, bit the end of his cedar pencil, and -then hastily put five pounds at the end of his name! The minister did -not thank him, for his soul was too noble to permit his tongue to utter -one word which his heart would not accompany: but he had, again, some -peculiar thoughts about the true interpretation of the words "infidel" -and "Christian." - -Neither was the good man to be damped by such an inauspicious -beginning; but begging Mr.——would not drive on again till he, the -minister, had got safely out of the gig, bid the rich churl "good -morning," posted away to the house of another "of whom the world was -not worthy," but with whom Leicester was likewise blessed at that time: -the Rev. Mr. Robinson, vicar of St. Mary's, stayed till that good -man formed a little collecting book, and then left him to divide the -work of canvassing the town for names to form the subscription list. -Assisted occasionally by others, the dissenting minister persevered, -till, in the lapse of several days, and at the cost to himself of -excruciating visitations of increased pain in the night season, he -completed such a list as gave effectual relief to the hundreds of his -suffering fellow-creatures then inhabiting Leicester. - -That labour was no sooner ended than he commenced a close inquiry into -the real state of the staple trade of the town; and, finding that the -reports of oppression and extortion, the foul fruits of avaricious -competition, were not exaggerated, he sat down and wrote an appeal in -behalf of the suffering framework-knitters that might have jeopardied -the favour and acceptance of a less able preacher with the wealthier -members of his congregation. - -It might be imprudent to go on: the starving stockingers of Leicester -have no longer such an advocate; and, as highly as some profess to -esteem the memory of the truly good, they may feel angered by this -introduction of a portrait which, as imperfectly as it is delineated, -they will already have recognised to their shame. If a stranger to -old Leicester should ask whose is the portrait this faint limning is -intended to call to memory, it is hoped it will not be deemed an act -of desecration to introduce, in a volume of merely fugitive essays, -a name too truly holy to be lightly mentioned,—a name inscribed, -ineffaceably, in English literature, by the sunbeam of his peerless and -hallowed eloquence to whom it belonged,—the name of ROBERT HALL. - - - - -"MERRIE ENGLAND"—NO MORE! - - -The present generation,—the generation succeeding that in which -the eloquent philanthropist and the sceptical gentleman lived and -conversed,—has it witnessed any verification of the serious prophecy -uttered in that winter evening's conversation in the streets of -Leicester? The following brief but truthful sketch will furnish an -answer. - -On an April morning in forty-two—scarcely four years bygone,—a -group of five or six destitute-looking men were standing on a -well-known space in Leicester, where the frustrum of a Roman milestone -(surmounted, in true Gothic style, with a fantastic cross) was -preserved within an iron palisade, and where the long narrow avenue -of Barkby Lane, enters the wide trading street called Belgrave Gate. -The paleness and dejection of the men's faces, as well as the ragged -condition of their clothing, would have told how fearfully they -were struggling with poverty and want, if their words had not been -overheard. - -"Never mind the lad, John," said the tallest and somewhat the -hardest-featured man of the party; "he can't be worse off than he would -have been at home, let him be where he will. What's the use of grieving -about him? He was tired of pining at home, no doubt, and has gone to -try if he can't mend his luck. You'll hear of him again, soon, from -some quarter or other." - -"But I can't satisfy myself about him, in that way, George," replied -the man to whom this rough exhortation was addressed; "if the foolish -lad be drawn into company that tempts him to steal, I may have to hear -him sentenced to transportation, and that would be no joke, George." - -"I see nothing so very serious, even in that," observed another of -the group; "I would as lief be transported to-morrow as stay here to -starve, as I've done for the last six months." - -"It would seem serious to me, though," rejoined John, "to see my own -child transported." - -"Why, John, to men that scorn to steal, in spite of starvation," -resumed George, "it's painful to see any child, or man either, -transported: but where's the real disgrace of it? The man that -pronounces the sentence is, in nine cases out of ten, a bigger villain -than him that's called 'the criminal.' Disgrace is only a name—a mere -name, you know, John." - -"I'm aware there's a good deal o' truth in that," replied John; "the -names of things would be altered a good deal, if the world was set -right: but, as wrong as things are now, yet I hope my lad will never -steal, and have to be sentenced to transportation. I've often had to -hear him cry for bread, since he was born, and had none to give him: -but I would sooner see him perish with hunger than live to hear him -transported, for I think it would break my heart;—and God Almighty -forbid I ever should have to hear it!" - -"Goddle Mitey!" said George, pronouncing the syllables in a mocking -manner, and setting up a bitter laugh, which was joined by every member -of the group, except the mournful man who had just spoken; "who told -thee there was one? Thy grandmother and the parsons? Don't talk such -nonsense any more, John! it's time we all gave it over: they've managed -to grind men to the dust with their priestcraft, and we shall never be -righted till we throw it off!" - -"No, no," chimed in another, immediately; "they may cant and prate -about it: but, if their God existed, he would never permit us to suffer -as we do!" - -"Well, I'm come seriously to the same conclusion," said one who had -not spoken before, and was the palest and thinnest of the group: "I -think all their talk about a Providence that disposes the lot of men -differently here, 'for His Own great mysterious purposes,' as they -phrase it, is mere mysterious humbug, to keep us quiet. What purpose -could a being have, who, they say, is as infinitely good as he is -infinitely powerful, in placing me where I must undergo insult and -starvation, while He places that man,—the oppressor and grinder, who -is riding past now, in his gig,—in plenty and abundance?" - -"Right, Benjamin," said George; "they can't get quit of their -difficulty, quibble as they may: if they bedaub us with such nicknames -as 'Atheistical Socialists,' we can defy them to make the riddle -plainer by their own Jonathan Edwards, that they say good Robert Hall -read over thirteen times, and pronounced 'irrefragable.'" - -"Just so," resumed Benjamin, "whether man be called a 'Creature of -Circumstance,' or a 'Creature of Necessity,' it amounts to the same -thing. And, then, none of the Arminian sects can make out a case: they -only prove the same thing as the Calvinist and the Socialist, when -their blundering argument is sifted to the bottom." - -"So that, if there be a Providence," continued George, "it has -appointed, or permitted,—which they like, for it comes to the -same,—that old——should fling the three dozen hose in your face last -November, and that you should be out of work, and pine ever since; it -appointed that I should get a few potatoes or a herring, by begging, or -go without food altogether, some days since Christmas; and that each -of us here, though we are willing to work, should have to starve; while -it appointed that the mayor should live in a fine house, and swell his -riches, by charging _whole_ frame-rents, month after month, to scores -of poor starving stockingers that had from him but half week's work." - -"And, with all their talk about piety," rejoined Benjamin, "I think -there is no piety at all in believing in the existence of such a -Providence: and since, it appears, it can't be proved that Providence -is of any other character, if there be One at all, I think it less -impious to believe in None." - -John stood by while this conversation was going on; but he heard little -of it,—for his heart was too heavy with concern for his child,—and, -in a little time, he took his way, silently and slowly, towards other -groups of unemployed and equally destitute men, who were standing on -the wider space of ground, at the junction of several streets,—a -locality known by the names of "the Coal-hill," and "the Hay-market," -from the nature of the merchandise sold there, at different periods, in -the open air. - -"Have you found the lad yet?" said one of John's acquaintances, when he -reached the outermost group. - -"No, William," replied the downcast father; "and I begin to have some -very troublesome fears about him, I'll assure you." - -"But why should you, John?" expostulated the other; "he's only gone to -try if he can't mend himself——Look you, John!" he said, pointing -excitedly at what he suddenly saw; "there he goes, with the recruiting -serjeant!" - -The father ran towards the soldier and his child; and every group on -the Coal-hill was speedily in motion when they saw and heard the father -endeavouring to drag off the lad from the soldier, who seized the arm -of his prize, and endeavoured to detain him. An increasing crowd soon -hemmed in the party,—a great tumult arose,—and three policemen were -speedily on the spot. - -"Stick to your resolution, my boy!" cried the soldier, grasping the -lad's arm with all his might; "you'll never want bread nor clothes in -the army." - -"But he'll be a sold slave, and must be shot at, like a dog!" cried -the father, striving to rescue his child,—a pale, tall stripling, who -seemed to be but sixteen or seventeen years of age. - -"Man-butcher!—Blood-hound!" shouted several voices in the crowd: -whereat the policemen raised their staves, and called aloud to the -crowd to "stand back!" - -"I demand, in the Queen's name, that you make this fellow loose his -hold of my recruit!" said the soldier, in a loud, angry tone, to the -policemen; two of whom seemed to be about obeying him, when a dark, -stern-browed man among the crowd, of much more strong and sinewy -appearance than the majority of the working multitude who composed it, -stepped forward, and said,— - -"Let any policemen touch him that dare! If they do they shall repent -it! There's no law to prevent a father from taking hold of his own -child's arm to hinder him from playing the fool!" - -The men in blue slunk back at these words; and the soldier himself -seemed intimidated at perceiving the father's cause taken up by an -individual of such determination. - -"Tom," said the determined man to the lad, "have you taken the -soldier's money?" - -"Not yet," answered the lad, after a few moments' hesitation. - -"Then he shall have my life before he has thee!" said the father, -whose heart leaped at the answer, and infused so much strength into -his arm, that with another pull he brought off his lad, entirely, from -the soldier's hold. The crowd now burst into a shout of triumph; and -when the soldier would have followed, to recapture his victim, the -stern-browed man confronted him with a look of silent defiance; and -the red-coat, after uttering a volley of oaths, walked off amidst the -derision of the multitude. - -"Don't you think you were a fool, Tom, to be juggled with that -cut-throat?" said the stern-browed man to the lad, while the crowd -gathered around him and his father. - -"I wasn't so soon juggled," replied the lad; "he's been at me this -three months; but I never yielded till this morning, when I felt almost -pined to death, and he made me have some breakfast with him,—but -he'll not get hold of me again!" - -"That's right, my lad!" said one of the crowd; "the bloody rascals have -not had two Leicester recruits these two years; and I hope they'll -never have another." - -"No, no, our eyes are getting opened," said another working-man; "they -may be able to kill us off by starvation, at home; but I hope young and -old will have too much sense, in future, to give or sell their bodies -to be shot at, for tyrants." - -"Ay, ay, we should soon set the lordlings fast, if all working-men -refused to go for soldiers," said another. - -"So we should, Smith," said a sedate-looking elderly man; "that's more -sensible than talking of fighting when we've no weapons, nor money to -buy 'em, nor strength to use 'em." - -"Then we shall wait a long while for the Charter, if we wait till we -get it by leaving 'em no soldiers to keep us down," said a young, -bold-looking man, with a fiery look; "for they'll always find plenty of -Johnny Raws ready to list in the farming districts." - -"And we shall wait a longer while still if we try to get it by -fighting, under our present circumstances," answered the elderly man, -in a firm tone; "that could only make things worse, as all such fool's -tricks have ended, before." - -"You're right, Randal, you're right!" cried several voices in the -crowd; and the advocate of the bugbear "physical force" said not -another word on the subject. - -"No, no, lads!" continued the "moral force" man, "let us go on, -telling 'em our minds, without whispering,—and let us throw off their -cursed priestcraft,—and the system will come to an end,—and before -long. But fighting tricks would be sure to fail; because they're the -strongest,—and they know it." - -"Yes, it must end,—and very soon," observed another working-man; -"the shopkeepers won't be long before they join us; for they begin to -squeak, most woefully." - -"The shopkeepers, lad!" said the dark-looking man, who had confronted -the soldier; "never let us look for their help: there is not a spark of -independence in any of 'em: they have had it in their power, by their -votes, to have ended misrule, before now, if they had had the will." - -"Poor devils! they're all fast at their bankers', and dare no more vote -against their tyrants than they dare attempt to fly," said another. - -"There is no dependence on any of the middle class," said the -dark-looking man; "they are as bad as the aristocrats. You see this -last winter has passed over, entirely, without any subscription for the -poor, again,—as severe a winter as it has been." - -"Ay, and work scarcer and scarcer, every day," said another. - -"They say there are eight hundred out o'work now, in Leicester," -said the elderly, sedate man, who had spoken before; "and I heard a -manufacturer say there would be twice as many before the summer went -over: but he added, that the people deserved to be pinched, since they -would not join the Corn Law Repealers." - -A burst of indignation, and some curses and imprecations, followed. - -"Does he go to chapel?" asked one. - -"Yes; and he's a member of the Charles Street meeting," said the -elderly man. - -"There's your religion, again!"—"There's your saintship!"—"There's -your Christianity!"—"There's their Providence and their Goddle -Mitey!"—were the varied indignant exclamations among the starved -crowd, as soon as the answer was heard. - -"I should think they invented the Bastile Mill, while they were at -chapel!" said one. - -"Is it smashed again?" asked another. - -"No; but it soon will be," answered the man who confronted the soldier. - -These, and similar observations, were uttered aloud, in the open -street, at broad day, by hundreds of starved, oppressed, and insulted -framework-knitters, who thus gave vent to their despair. Such -conversations were customary sounds in John's ears, and, having -recovered his son, he took him by the arm, after this brief delay, and, -walking slowly back towards the Roman milestone, the two bent their -steps down the narrow street called Barkby Lane. - -After threading an alley, they reached a small wretchedly furnished -habitation; and the lad burst into tears, as his mother sprung from her -laborious employ at the wash-tub, and threw her arms round his neck, -and kissed him. Two or three neighbours came in, in another minute, -and congratulating the father and mother, on their having found their -son, a conversation followed on the hatefulness of becoming "a paid -cut-throat for tyrants," the substance of which would have been as -unpleasing to "the powers that be" as the conversation in the street, -had they heard the two. The entry, into the squalid-looking house, of -another neighbour, pale and dejected beyond description, gave a new -turn to the homely discourse. - -"Your son has come back, I see, John," said the new-comer, in a very -faint voice: "I wish my husband would come home." - -"Thy husband, Mary!" said John; "why, where's he gone? Bless me, woman, -how ill you look!—What's the matter?" - -The woman's infant had begun to cry while she spoke; and she had bared -her breast, and given it to the child: but—Nature was exhausted! there -was no milk;—and, while the infant struggled and screamed, the woman -fainted. - -She recovered, under the kindly and sympathetic attention of the -neighbours; and the scanty resources of the group were laid under -contribution for restoring some degree of strength, by means of food, -to the woman and her child. One furnished a cup of milk, another a -few spoonfuls of oatmeal, another brought a little bread; and when -the child was quieted, and the mother was able, she commenced her sad -narrative. She had not, she said, tasted food of any kind for a day and -two nights: she had pawned or sold every article of clothing, except -what she had on, and she was without a bonnet entirely: nor had her -husband any other clothes than the rags in which he had gone out, two -hours before, with the intent to try the relieving officer, once more, -for a loaf, or a trifle of money: to complete their misery, they owed -six weeks' rent for the room in which lay the bag of shavings that -formed their bed; and, if they could not pay the next week's rent, they -must turn out into the street, or go into the Bastile. - -Her recital was scarcely concluded, when the sorrowful husband -returned. He had been driven away by the relieving officer, and -threatened with the gaol, if he came again, unless it was to bring his -wife and child with him to enter the Union Bastile!—and the man sat -down, and wept. - -And then the children of misery mingled their consolations,—if -reflections drawn from despair could be so called,—and endeavoured to -fortify the heart of the yielding man, by reminding him that they would -not have to starve long, for life, with all its miseries, would soon be -over. - -"I wonder why it ever begun!" exclaimed the man who had been yielding -to tears, but now suddenly burst out into bitter language: "I think -it's a pity but that God had found something better to do than to make -such poor miserable wretches as we are!" - -"Lord! what queer thoughts thou hast, Jim!" said the woman who had -previously fainted, and she burst into a half-convulsive laugh. - -"Indeed, it's altogether a mystery to me," said the man who had so -recently found his son; "we seem to be born for nothing but trouble. -And then the queerest thing is that we are to go to hell, at last, if -we don't do every thing exactly square. My poor father always taught -me to reverence religion; and I don't like to say any thing against -it, but I'm hard put to it, at times, Jim, I'll assure ye. It sounds -strange, that we are to be burnt for ever, after pining and starving -here; for how can a man keep his temper, and be thankful, as they say -we ought to be, when he would work and can't get it, and, while he -starves, sees oppressors ride in their gigs, and build their great -warehouses?" - -"It's mere humbug, John, to keep us down: that's what it is!" said -Jim: "one of these piety-mongers left us a tract last week; and what -should it contain but that old tale of Bishop Burnet, about the widow -that somebody who peeped through the chinks of the window-shutters saw -kneeling by a table with a crust of bread before her, and crying out in -rapture, 'All this and Christ!' I tell thee what, John, if old Burnet -had been brought down from his gold and fat living, and had tried it -himself, I could better have believed him. It's a tale told like many -others to make fools and slaves of us: that's what I think. Ay, and I -told the long-faced fellow so that fetched the tract. He looked very -sourly at me, and said the poor did not use to trouble themselves about -politics in his father's time, and every body was more comfortable then -than they are now. 'The more fools were they,' said I: 'if the poor -had begun to think of their rights sooner, instead of listening to -religious cant, we should not have been so badly off now:' and away he -went, and never said another word. - -"But I don't like to give way to bad thoughts about religion, after -all, Jim," said John: "it's very mysterious—the present state of -things: but we may find it all explained in the next life." - -"Prythee, John," exclaimed the other, interrupting him, impatiently, -"don't talk so weakly. That's the way they all wrap it up; and if a -guess in the dark and a 'maybe' will do for an argument, why any -thing will do. Until somebody can prove to me that there _is_ another -life after this, I shall think it my duty to think about this only. -Now just look at this, John! If there be another life after this, why -the present is worth nothing: every moment here ought to be spent in -caring for eternity; and every man who really believes in such a life -would not care how he passed this, so that he could but be making a -preparation for the next: isn't that true, John?" - -"To be sure it is, Jim; and what o' that?" - -"Why, then, tell me which of 'em believes in such a life. Do you -see any of the canting tribe less eager than others to get better -houses, finer chairs and tables, larger shops, and more trade? Is old -Sour-Godliness in the north, there, more easily brought to give up a -penny in the dozen to save a starving stockinger than the grinders that -don't profess religion? I tell thee, John, it's all fudge: they don't -believe it themselves, or else they would imitate Christ before they -tell us to be like him!" - -Reader! the conversation shall not be prolonged, lest the object -of this sketch should be mistaken. These conversations are _real_: -they are no coinages. Go to Leicester, or any other of the suffering -towns of depressed manufacture, where men compete with each other in -machinery till human hands are of little use, and rival each other in -wicked zeal to reduce man to the merest minimum of subsistence. If -the missionary people—and this is not said with a view to question -the true greatness and utility of their efforts—if they would be -consistent, let them send their heralds into the manufacturing -districts, and first convert the "infidels" there, ere they send -their expensive messengers to India. But let it be understood that -the heralds must be furnished with brains, as well as tongues; for -whoever enters Leicester, or any other of the populous starving hives -of England, must expect to find the deepest subjects of theology, and -government, and political economy, taken up with a subtlety that would -often puzzle a graduate of Oxford or Cambridge. Whoever supposes the -starving "manufacturing masses" know no more, and can use no better -language, than the peasantry in the agricultural counties, will find -himself egregiously mistaken. 'Tis ten to one but he will learn more of -a profound subject in one hour's conversation of starving stockingers -than he would do in ten lectures of a university professor. Let the -missionary people try these quarters, then; but let their heralds "know -their business" ere they go, or they will make as slow progress as -Egede and the Moravians among the Greenlanders. One hint may be given. -Let them begin with the manufacturers; and, if they succeed in making -_real_ converts to Christianity in that quarter, their success will -be tolerably certain among the working-men, and tolerably easy in its -achievement. - -There is no "tale" to finish about John or his lad, or Jem and -his wife. They went on starving,—begging,—receiving threats of -imprisonment,—tried the "Bastile" for a few weeks,—came out and -had a little work,—starved again; and they are still going the same -miserable round, like thousands in "merrie England." What are your -thoughts, reader? - - - - -SETH THOMPSON, THE STOCKINGER; -OR, -"WHEN THINGS ARE AT THE WORST, -THEY BEGIN TO MEND." - - -Leicestershire stockingers call that a false proverb. "People have -said so all our lives," say they; "but, although we have each and all -agreed, every day, that things were at the worst, they never begun to -mend yet!" This was not their language sixty years ago, but it is their -daily language _now_; and the story that follows is but, as it were, of -yesterday. - -Seth Thompson was the only child of a widow, by the time that he was -six years old, and became a "winding boy," in a shop of half-starved -framework-knitters at Hinckley,—a kindred lot with hundreds of -children of the same age, in Leicestershire. Seth's mother was a tender -mother to her child; but he met tenderness in no other quarter. He was -weakly, and since that rendered him unable to get on with his winding -of the yarn as fast as stronger children, he was abused and beaten by -the journeymen, while the master stockinger, for every slight flaw in -his work,—though it always resulted from a failure of strength rather -than carelessness,—unfeelingly took the opportunity to "dock" his -paltry wages. - -Since her child could seldom add more than a shilling or fifteen-pence -to the three, or, at most, four shillings, she was able to earn -herself,—and she had to pay a heavy weekly rent for their humble -home,—it will readily be understood that neither widow Thompson nor -Seth were acquainted with the meaning of the word "luxury," either in -food or habits. A scanty allowance of oatmeal and water formed their -breakfast, potatoes and salt their dinner, and a limited portion -of bread, with a wretchedly diluted something called "tea" as an -accompaniment, constituted their late afternoon, or evening meal; and -they knew no variety for years, winter or summer. The widow's child -went shoeless in the warm season, and the cast-off substitutes he wore -in winter, together with lack of warmth in his poor mother's home, -and repulses from the shop fire by the master and men while at work, -subjected him, through nearly the whole of every winter, to chilblains -and other diseases of the feet. Rags were his familiar acquaintances, -and, boy-like, he felt none of the aching shame and sorrow experienced -by his mother when she beheld his destitute covering, and reflected -that her regrets would not enable her to amend his tattered condition. - -Seth's mother died when he reached fifteen, and expressed -thankfulness, on her death-bed, that she was about to quit a world -of misery, after being permitted to live till her child was in -some measure able to struggle for himself. In spite of hard usage -and starvation, Seth grew up a strong lad, compared with the puny -youngsters that form the majority of the junior population in -manufacturing districts. He was quick-witted, too, and had gathered -a knowledge of letters and syllables, amidst the references to cheap -newspapers and hourly conversation on politics by starving and -naturally discontented stockingers. From a winding-boy, Seth was -advanced to the frame, and, by the time he had reached seventeen, was -not only able to earn as much as any other stockinger in Hinckley, -when he could get work, but, with the usually improvident haste of the -miserable and degraded, married a poor "seamer," who was two years -younger than himself. - -Seth Thompson at twenty-one, with a wife who was but nineteen, had -become the parent of four children; and since he had never been -able to bring home to his family more than seven shillings in one -week, when the usual villainous deductions were made by master and -manufacturer, in the shape of "frame-rent" and other "charges,"—since -he had often had but _half_-work, with the usual deduction of _whole_ -charges, and had been utterly without work for six several periods, -of from five to nine weeks each, during the four years of his married -life,—the following hasty sketch of the picture which this "home of -an Englishman" presented one noon, when a stranger knocked at the door, -and it was opened by Seth himself, will scarcely be thought overdrawn:— - -Except a grey deal table, there was not a single article within the -walls which could be called "furniture," by the least propriety of -language. This stood at the farther side of the room, and held a -few soiled books and papers, Seth's torn and embrowned hat, and the -mother's tattered straw bonnet. The mother sat on a three-legged stool, -beside an osier cradle, and was suckling her youngest child while she -was eating potatoes and salt from an earthen dish upon her knee. Seth's -dish of the same food stood on a seat formed of a board nailed roughly -across the frame of a broken chair; while, in the centre of the floor, -where the broken bricks had disappeared and left the earth bare, the -three elder babes sat squatted round a board whereon boiled potatoes -in their skins were piled,—a meal they were devouring greedily, -squeezing the inside of the root into their mouths with their tiny -hands, after the mode said to be practised in an Irish cabin. An empty -iron pot stood near the low expiring fire, and three rude logs of wood -lay near it,—the children's usual seats when they had partaken their -meal. A description of the children's filthy and bedaubed appearance -with the potatoe starch, and of the "looped and windowed" rags that -formed their covering, could only produce pain to the reader. Seth's -clothing was not much superior to that of his offspring; but the clean -cap and coloured cotton handkerchief of the mother, with her own -really beautiful but delicate face and form, gave some relief to the -melancholy picture. - -Seth blushed, as he took up his dish of potatoes, and offered the -stranger his fragment of a seat. And the stranger blushed, too, but -refused the seat with a look of so much benevolence that Seth's heart -glowed to behold it; and his wife set down her porringer, and hushed -the children that the stranger might deliver his errand with the -greater ease. - -"Your name is Thompson, I understand," said the stranger; "pray, do you -know what was your mother's maiden name?" - -"Greenwood,—Martha Greenwood was my poor mother's maiden name, sir," -replied Seth, with the tears starting to his eyes. - -The stranger seemed to have some difficulty in restraining similar -feelings; and gazed, sadly, round upon the room and its squalid -appearance, for a few moments, in silence. - -Seth looked hard at his visitor, and thought of one whom his mother had -often talked of; but did not like to put an abrupt question, though he -imagined the stranger's features strongly resembled his parent's. - -"Are working people in Leicestershire usually so uncomfortably -situated as you appear to be?" asked the stranger, in a tone of deep -commiseration which he appeared to be unable to control. - -Seth Thompson and his wife looked uneasily at each other, and then -fixed their gaze on the floor. - -"Why, sir," replied Seth, blushing more deeply than before, "we married -very betime, and our family, you see, has grown very fast; we hope -things will mend a little with us when some o' the children are old -enough to earn a little. We've only been badly off as yet, but you'd -find a many not much better off, sir, I assure you, in Hinckley and -elsewhere." - -The stranger paused again, and the working of his features manifested -strong inward feeling. - -"I see nothing but potatoes," he resumed; "I hope your meal is -unusually poor to-day, and that you and your family generally have a -little meat at dinner." - -"Meat, sir!" exclaimed Seth; "we have not known what it is to set a bit -of meat before our children more than three times since the first was -born; we usually had a little for our Sunday dinner when we were first -married, but we can't afford it now!" - -"Good God!" cried the stranger, with a look that demonstrated his agony -of grief and indignation, "is this England,—the happy England, that I -have heard the blacks in the West Indies talk of as a Paradise?" - -"Are you my mother's brother? Is your name Elijah Greenwood?" asked -Seth Thompson, unable longer to restrain the question. - -"Yes," replied the visitor, and sat down upon Seth's rude seat, to -recover his self-possession.— - -That was a happy visit for poor Seth Thompson, and his wife and -children. His mother had often talked of her only brother who went for -a sailor when a boy, and was reported to be settled in some respectable -situation in the West Indies, but concerning whom she never received -any certain information. Elijah Greenwood had suddenly become rich, by -the death of a childless old planter, whom he had faithfully served, -and who had left him his entire estate. England was Elijah's first -thought, when this circumstance took place; and, as soon as he could -settle his new possession under some careful and trusty superintendence -till his return, he had taken ship, and come to his native country and -shire. By inquiry at the inn, he had learnt the afflictive fact of his -sister's death, but had been guided to the poverty-stricken habitation -of her son. - -That was the last night that Seth Thompson and his children slept on -their hard straw sacks on the floor,—the last day that they wore rags -and tatters, and dined upon potatoes and salt. Seth's uncle placed -him in a comfortable cottage, bought him suitable furniture, gave him -a purse of 50_l._ for ready money, and promised him a half-yearly -remittance from Jamaica, for the remainder of his, the uncle's, life, -with a certainty of a considerable sum at his death. - -Seth and his wife could not listen, for a moment, to a proposal for -leaving England, although they had experienced little but misery -in it, their whole lives. The uncle, however, obtained from them -a promise that they would not restrain any of their children from -going out to Jamaica; and did not leave them till he had seen them -fairly and comfortably settled, and beheld what he thought a prospect -of comfort for them, in the future. Indeed, on the very morning -succeeding that in which Seth's new fortune became known, the hitherto -despised stockinger was sent for by the principal manufacturer of -hosen, in Hinckley, and offered "a shop of frames," in the language -of the working men; that is, he was invited to become a "master," or -one who receives the "stuff" from the capitalist or manufacturer, -and holds of him, likewise, a given number of frames,—varying from -half-a-dozen to a score or thirty, or even more; and thus becomes a -profit-sharing middleman between the manufacturer and the labouring -framework-knitters. Seth accepted the offer, for it seemed most natural -to him to continue in the line of manufacture to which he had been -brought up; and his uncle, with pleasurable hopes for his prosperity, -bade him farewell!— - -"Well, my dear," said Seth to his wife, as they sat down to a -plentiful dinner, surrounded with their neatly-dressed and happy -children, the day after the uncle's departure, "we used to say we -should never prove the truth of the old proverb, but we have proved it -at last: times came to the worst with us, and began to mend." - -"Thank God! we have proved it, my love," replied the wife; "and I wish -our poor neighbours could prove it as well." - -Seth sighed,—and was silent.—— - -Some years rolled over, and Seth Thompson had become a well-informed, -and deep-thinking man, but one in whom was no longer to be found -that passionate attachment to his native country which he once felt. -The manufacturer under whom he exercised the office of "master," had -borrowed the greater part of Seth's uncle's remittances, as regularly -as they arrived; and as Seth received due interest for these loans, and -confided that the manufacturer's wealth was real, he believed he was -taking a prudent way of laying up enough for the maintenance of his old -age, or for meeting the misfortunes of sickness, should they come. But -the manufacturer broke; and away went all that Seth had placed in his -hands. Every week failures became more frequent,—employ grew scantier, -for trade was said to decrease, though machinery increased,—discontent -lowered on every brow,—and the following sketch of what was said at a -meeting of starving framework-knitters held in Seth Thompson's shop -but a month before he quitted England for ever, may serve to show what -were his own reflections, and those of the suffering beings around him. - -About twenty working men had assembled, and stood in three or four -groups,—no "chairman" having been, as yet, chosen, since a greater -number of attendants was expected. - -"I wish thou would throw that ugly thing away, Timothy!" said a pale, -intellectual looking workman, to one whose appearance was rendered -filthy, in addition to his ragged destitution, by a dirty pipe stuck -in his teeth, and so short that the head scarcely projected beyond his -nose. - -"I know it's ugly, Robert," replied the other, in a tone between -self-accusation and despair,—"but it helps to pass away time. I've -thrown it away twice,—but I couldn't help taking to it again last -week, when I had nought to do. I think I should have hanged myself if I -had not smoked a bit o' 'bacco." - -"Well, I'm resolute that I'll neither smoke nor drink any more," said a -third: "the tyrants can do what they like with us, as long as we feed -their vices by paying taxes. If all men would be o' my mind there would -soon be an end of their extravagance,—for they would have nothing to -support it." - -"Indeed, James," replied the smoker, "I don't feel so sure about your -plan as you seem to be, yourself: you'll never persuade all working-men -to give up a sup of ale or a pipe, if they can get hold of either; -but, not to talk of that, what's to hinder the great rascals from -inventing other taxes if these fail?" - -"They couldn't easily be hindered, unless we had all votes," said the -first speaker, "we're all well aware of that; but it would put 'em -about, and render the party more unpopular that wanted to put on a new -tax." - -"I don't think that's so certain, either," replied the smoker; "depend -on't, neither Whigs nor Tories will run back from the support of taxes. -D'ye ever read of either party agreeing to 'stop the supplies,' as they -call it, or join in any measure to prevent taxes from being collected -till grievances are redressed?" - -"No, indeed, not we," chimed another, lighting his short pipe by the -help of his neighbour's, and folding his arms, with a look of something -like mock bravery; "and, for my part, I don't think they ever will be -redressed till we redress 'em ourselves!" - -"Ah, Joseph!" said the pale-looking man, shaking his head, "depend -upon it that's all a dream! How are poor starvelings like us, who have -neither the means of buying a musket, nor strength to march and use it, -if he had it,—how are we to overthrow thousands of disciplined troops -with all their endless resources of ammunition?—It's all a dream, -Joseph! depend on't." - -"Then what are we to do,—lie down and die?" asked the other; but -looked as if he were aware he had spoken foolishly, under the impulse -of despair. - -"I'm sure I often wish to die," said another, joining the conversation -in a doleful tone; "I've buried my two youngest, and the oldest lad's -going fast after his poor mother; one can't get bread enough to keep -body and soul together!" - -"Well, if it hadn't been for Seth Thompson's kindness," said another, -"I believe I should have been dead by this time. I never felt so near -putting an end to my life as I did last Sunday morning. I've been out -o' work, now, nine weeks; and last Saturday I never put a crumb in my -mouth, for I couldn't get it, and I caught up a raw potatoe in the -street last Sunday morning, and ate it for sheer hunger. Seth Thompson -saw me, and—God bless his heart!—he called me in and gave me a cup of -warm coffee and some toast, and slipped a shilling into my hand." And -the man turned aside to dash away his tears. - -"Ay, depend upon it, we shall miss Seth, when he leaves us," said -several voices together. - -"It's many a year since there was a master in Hinckley like him," said -the man with the short black pipe, "and, I fear, when he is gone, -the whole grinding crew will be more barefaced than ever with their -extortions and oppressions of poor men. Seth knew what it was to be -nipped himself when he was younger; that's the reason that he can feel -for others that suffer." - -"It isn't always the case, though," said another; "look at skin-flint -Jimps, the glove-master; I remember him when he was as ragged as an -ass's colt: and where is there such another grinding villain as Jimps, -now he is so well off?" - -"The more's the shame for a man that preaches and professes to be -religious," said the smoker. - -"It was but last Saturday forenoon," resumed the man who had mentioned -Jimps, the glove-master, "that he docked us two-pence a dozen, again: -and when I asked him if his conscience wouldn't reproach him when he -went to chapel, he looked like a fiend, and said, 'Bob! I knew what it -was to be ground once; but it's my turn to grind now!'" - -"And they call that religion, do they?" said the smoker, with an -imprecation. - -"It won't mend it to swear, my lad," said the intellectual-looking man; -"we know one thing,—that whatever such a fellow as this may do that -professes religion, he doesn't imitate the conduct of his Master." - -"I believe religion's all a bag of moonshine," said the smoker, "or -else they that profess it would not act as they do." - -"Don't talk so rashly, Tim," rejoined the other; "we always repent when -we speak in ill-temper. Religion can't cure hypocrites, man, though it -can turn drunkards and thieves into sober and honest men: it does not -prove that religion is all a bag of moonshine, because some scoundrels -make a handle of it. Truth's truth, in spite of all the scandal that -falsehood and deceit brings upon it." - -"Isn't it time we got to business?" said one of the group. - -"I don't think it will be of any use to wait longer," said another; -"there will not be more with us, if we wait another hour; the truth is, -that men dare not attend a meeting like this, for fear of being turned -off, and so being starved outright;—there's scarcely any spirit left -in Hinckley." - -"I propose that Seth Thompson takes the chair," said another, taking -off his ragged hat, and speaking aloud. - -A faint clapping of hands followed, and Seth took a seat upon -a raised part of one of the frames at the end of the shop, and -opened the meeting according to the simple but business-like form, -which working-men are wont to observe in similar meetings, in the -manufacturing districts. - -"I feel it would scarcely become me to say much, my friends," he said, -"since I am about to leave you. I thought, at one time, that nothing -could have ever inclined me to leave old England; but it seems like -folly to me, now, to harbour an attachment to a country where one sees -nothing but misery, nor any chance of improvement. I would not wish to -damp your spirits; but if I were to tell you how much uneasiness I have -endured for some years past, even while you have seen me apparently -well off and comfortable, you would not wonder that I am resolved to -quit this country, since I have the offer of ease and plenty, though -in a foreign clime. I tell you, working men, that I had power over -Mr.——, by the moneys I had lent him, or I should have been turned -out of this shop years ago. Week by week have we quarrelled, because -I would not practise the tyrannies and extortions upon working men -that he recommended and urged. It is but a hateful employ to a man of -any feeling,—is that of a master-stockinger under an avaricious and -inhuman hosier. But, if the master's situation be so far from being a -happy one, I need not tell you that I know well, by experience, how -much more miserable is that of the starved and degraded working-man. -Indeed, indeed,—I see no hope for you, my friends,—yet, I repeat, I -would not wish to damp your spirits. Perhaps things may mend yet; but -I confess I see no likelihood of it, till the poor are represented as -well as the rich." - -It might produce weariness to go through all the topics that were -touched upon by Seth and others. They were such as are familiarly -handled, daily, in the manufacturing districts; ay, and with a -degree of mental force and sound reasoning,—if not with polish of -words,—that would make some gentlefolk stare, if they were to hear -the sounds proceeding from the haggard figures in rags who often utter -them. The "deceit" of the Reform Bill, as it is usually termed by -manufacturing "operatives;" the trickery of the Whigs; the corruption -and tyranny of the Tories; the heartlessness of the manufacturers -and "the League;" and the right of every sane Englishman of one and -twenty years of age to a vote in the election of those who have to -govern him, were each and all broadly, and unshrinkingly, and yet not -intemperately, asserted. - -One or two, in an under-tone, ventured to suggest that it might be -advantageous to try, once more, to act with the Anti-Corn Law men, -since many of the members of the League professed democracy; and, -if that were done, working men would not fear to attend a meeting -such as that they were then holding. But this was scouted by the -majority; and a proposal was, at length, made, in a written form, and -seconded,—"That a branch of an association of working men, similar -to one that was stated to have been just established at Leicester, -should be formed." The motion was put and carried,—a committee, and -secretary, and treasurer, were chosen,—and the men seemed to put off -their dejection, and grow energetic in their resolution to attempt -their own deliverance from misery, in the only way that they conceived -it could ever be substantially effected: but their purpose came to the -ears of the manufacturers on the following day, threats of loss of -work were issued, and no association was established! - -Seth Thompson took his family to the West Indies, pursuant to the many -and urgent requests contained in his uncle's letters, and soon entered -upon the enjoyment of the plenty in store for him. Hinckley stockingers -remain in their misery still; and, perhaps, there is scarcely a place -in England where starving working men have so little hope,—although -"things," they say, "have come to the worst,"—that "they" will ever -"begin to mend." - - - - -SAM SIMKINS, THE RUN-AWAY; -OR, -VILLAINY AS A REFUGE FROM THE TORTURES OF -SOUR-GODLINESS. - - -Sam Simkins was a wild lad,—but whose fault was it that he became -so? That was the significant question which uniformly followed the -commemoration of his history among the old women of the village where -he was born, and where, after the early death of his father and mother, -he was apprenticed, by the parish, to Mr. Jonas Straitlace, the saddler -and collar-maker. The village was not more than half-a-dozen miles -from Birmingham; and to that town Sam usually trudged once or twice in -the working part of the week on his master's business errands, and, -invariably, accompanied his master thither twice on the Sunday, to -attend the ministry of a Calvinistic teacher. - -With the exception of a very restricted number of hours for sleep, -these were the only portions of Sam's existence that could come within -the name of relaxation. Some people gave Sam's master the title of -a "money-grub;" but Mr. Jonas Straitlace himself modestly laid claim -to the character of one who was "diligent in business, fervent in -spirit, and——" the reader knows the rest. In brief, he was one of -the too numerous description of folk who cast their sour into the -sweets of innocent enjoyment on every occasion within their compass, -and strive to throw a universal pall over the world by keeping their -fellow-creatures in mind that the next life alone is worth a moment's -thought,—and yet, daily and hourly illustrate their own gloomy lesson -by grasping at the dirt called money as eagerly as if they believed -they could carry it with them over the ford of the grave, and that it -would be still more current coin in the next life than in this. Strict -rates of charge to his customers in an age of competition prevented -Straitlace from extending his business; but the consequence was, that -he grew more pinching towards himself, and still more towards his -apprentice, in allowing the body its proper amount of sustenance, or -the general constitution its necessary share of healthful unbending. -Sam was pinched in his measure of food, and watched while he ate it, -lest the spoon should travel so slowly to his mouth as to prevent his -return to labour after the lapse of an appointed number of minutes; -he was "alarumed" up at five in winter, and at four in summer, and -kept at the bench till eight; and what went down more hardly with Sam -than either scant food and sleep, or unceasingly painful toil, was the -fact, that his master's vinegared piety overflowed with such zeal for -Sam's spiritual welfare as to compel him to spend the remaining time -till ten, every working-day evening, in reading one book. Nay, the -lad, in spite of the remembrance that every other apprentice in the -village was allowed, at least, an hour's holyday-time, each day, would -have felt it to be some amelioration of his captive lot, had he been -allowed to derive such amusement from the book as it might afford; but -Straitlace's zeal for Sam's happiness in the next life, taught him that -he must use even this extreme resort to mortify the lad in the present -state of existence, and, therefore, Sam must read nothing but the -Prophets, in one division of the book, and the Epistles, in the other! - -Such was the discipline to which Mr. Jonas Straitlace subjected Sam -Simkins from the age of nine, when the parish placed the lad under -his care, to fifteen. Straitlace had one invariable answer to all -who remonstrated with him on the undue severity, the imprisoning -strictness, he exercised towards his apprentice:—"Train up a child in -the way he should go," he would say, quoting the whole text, "that's a -Bible reason for what I do: it doesn't allow me to parley with flesh -and blood: I must obey it." - -Mr. Jonas Straitlace had found that fine moral pearl in the great -Oriental treasure-house of the wisdom-jewels of ages, and he was too -sordidly ignorant to know that the originator of the maxim never -intended the "should go" to be left to the judicature either of -brain-sick zealots and morbid pietists, or of rash experimenters and -fanciful speculatists. But what cared Straitlace about the legitimate -and fair interpretation of the text? His ready quotation of it served -his purpose: it kept "meddlers," as he called them, at arm's length, -and secured the links of that grinding slavery which held Sam to his -task, and brought money into the till. - -It would be a heart-sickening detail, that of the incidental miseries -Sam experienced in these six years: suffice it to say, his chain was -tightened till it snapped. He contrived to form an acquaintance in -Birmingham who advised him to "cut" his tyrant-master, and "cut" him -he did. Yet, Mr. Jonas Straitlace knew the value of Sam's earnings too -well to be inclined to give up his bird without trying to catch it -again. He set out for Birmingham, made inquiry, and learned that Sam, -in spite of being minuted by his master's watch, had contrived, almost -uniformly, on his errands, to spend a quarter of an hour in a certain -low public-house, and that he had done this, habitually, for more than -a twelvemonth past. Straitlace bent his steps to this resort, and, by -his crafty mode of questioning, ascertained from the landlord that Sam -had that very morning been in his house with one "Jinks,"—yet that -was not the man's right name, the landlord added, but only a name he -went by. - -"And pray who is this Jinks?" asked Straitlace. - -"He was once a man in great trust, sir," answered the landlord, with -some solemnity: "he was head clerk in a first-rate lawyers's office in -this town. But it was found out at last, that Jinks had 'bezzled a good -deal o' money belonging to the firm; and so he was sent to gaol for a -couple o' year; nay, he was very near being hanged. And so when he came -out o' limbo, you understand, why nobody would trust, or hardly look on -him; and he's now got from bad to worse." - -"What mean you by that?" asked Jonas. - -"The least said is the soonest mended," replied the landlord. - -"I wish you could tell me where I could see this man," said Straitlace: -"the lad is my apprentice, and this man will do him no good: besides, I -am losing money by his absence." - -The landlord stared, bit his lip, with a look that told he wished he -had not talked so fast, and then made answer that he was busy that -morning, and, besides, it was ten thousand to one whether Jinks could -be found in his hiding-hole, if they were to go to it:—"and, more than -all," he added, "there is no believing him, he is such a fellow to -thump: he tells so many lies, poking his eyes into every corner, and -never looking in your face all the while, that I often think Jinks must -find it hard to invent new ones." - -Straitlace was versed sufficiently in human character to discern that -the prattling landlord was made of squeezable materials, and so he -urged his questions and entreaties until he had won his point, and the -landlord undertook to conduct him to "Jinks's hiding hole." - -Threading an alley in one of the dingiest streets in the town, they -wound through several crooked passages, and arrived at a paltry-looking -small square. From a corner of this dirty and half-ruined quadrangle, -the landlord advanced along a path that could scarcely be supposed to -lead to a human dwelling. It was what is designated a "twitchel" in -the midland counties, being barely wide enough to admit one person at -a time,—and was the boundary line of two rows of buildings, the eaves -of which overhung it, and rendered the passage as gloomy as if it were -scarcely yet twilight. Straitlace scrambled with difficulty after his -conductor, and over the heaps of cinders, broken pots, and oyster and -muscle shells which lay along this dark tract; and when they came to -the end of it, and had descended half-a-dozen stone steps, they arrived -at what looked like the door of a cellar. Here the landlord shook his -fist at Straitlace, and compressed his features, as a signal for his -companion to keep strict silence. He then tapped, very gently, at the -door; but, though he repeated his timid knock, no one answered. - -"Jinks! Jinks! I say," he whispered through the key-hole, after he had -knocked the third time. - -"Who's there?" said a sharp, angry voice. - -"It's only me, Jinks:—I want to speak t' ye," answered the landlord. - -"You lie, Jemmy Jolter:—there's more than you only," retorted Jinks, -with a snarl so sudden and crabbed that it flung the other entirely off -his guard. - -"Well—but—but," Jemmy stammered; "this person wants to see you about -that youth that was with you this morning, Jinks, and——" - -"Whew! Jemmy Jolter, you've let it out again," replied the strange -voice within: "get home, ye long-tongued fool, get home! what fool is -that beside ye to employ such a sieve to carry water?" - -"Oh, very well, Jinks," said the weak landlord, turning round in -dudgeon: "a time may come when you may want a good turn doing, you -know." - -"I'll let you in, by yourself, Jemmy, if you like," said the keeper of -this questionable garrison, fearful of losing the good offices of the -landlord; "or I'll admit that verjuice-faced fellow who stands beside -you, with the white apron round him." - -The outer party here looked at each other with some alarm, on finding -they were each seen so plainly by one who was to them invisible. - -"You don't think I shall advise a respectable man and a stranger to -come into such a den as yours, alone,—do ye, Jinks?" said the other, -in a voice of displeasure. - -"Then you may both keep out," retorted the concealed speaker; "at any -rate, you'll both be safe there. Twist my withers, if ever I admit two -clients into chambers at once! No, no! it wouldn't do, Jemmy! What I -say here goes into only one pair of ears besides my own." - -"I'll venture alone, if he'll only admit me," said Straitlace, his -eagerness to learn something of Sam, and, if possible, to recover the -possession of him, subduing the repugnance he felt against trusting -himself alone in such suspicious company. - -The door was slightly opened in a moment; and before the landlord could -remonstrate, Straitlace was admitted, and the bolts were again closed -within. Jinks seized his visitor by the hand, and rapidly pulled him -up a dark stair. Straitlace's mind misgave him, as he reached the top -of the ascent: it conducted to a narrow apartment in which there was -no furniture but a broken chair, and a strong wooden bench; while a -bottle, and an earthen pot, with some discoloured papers, covered -the end of a barrel which appeared to serve the wretched habitant -of the room for a table. There was no fire in the dirty grate, and -viewed through the murky light admitted by the small window which was -half-obscured with papers, patching the broken panes, the appearance -of the squalid chamber sent a shuddering feeling over Straitlace's skin. - -"Well, and so now you are admitted to my _sanctum sanctorum_,—what's -your will?" asked Jinks, with a grin of derision, and seating himself -on the broken chair. - -Straitlace was not a timid man; but the dark skin, projecting teeth, -and overhanging brows of the figure before him, and, more than all, the -diabolical fire of his eyes, really affrighted him, and he remained -speechless. - -"Don't stare at me in that way, you fool," said the grim figure, -savagely; "I'm not a wizard, though I do deal with the devil sometimes. -What d'ye want to know about Sam Simkins?" - -Straitlace was amazed at the effrontery of the fellow, in turn: "I -insist upon it, that you tell me where he is, since you seem to know," -he said, his displeasure giving him a little spirit. - -"Whew!" was the only answer made by the grim figure, who turned the -empty pot towards the light, and then looked into it, and then looked -at Straitlace, who was 'born sooner than yesterday,' as they say in -the midlands; but who was not disposed to show that he penetrated the -meaning of the spunger's masonic sort of hint. - -"I insist upon knowing where you have concealed my apprentice," said -Straitlace, trying to put on a bold look. - -"I've neither concealed him, nor shall I snitch, and tell you where he -is, if you ape the bully," replied Jinks, with cold mockery. - -"Then, as sure as you sit there, you villain," answered Straitlace, -thinking he should lose the end of his errand entirely, if he did -not keep up the appearance of determination, "I'll have you before a -magistrate, and imprison you till the boy is produced." - -"I advise you to be cool," answered Jinks, with a look of such peculiar -devilry that it made Straitlace feel chill with fear: "you wouldn't get -me before a magistrate if you were to try. And, besides, there's more -than one can light a match; and your cottage will burn, you know,—ay, -and your collars and old saddle traps too." - -Straitlace dared not threaten now; he found that the fellow knew him; -and he felt the peril of the ground he stood on. He sank on the bench, -and gazed timidly and silently at the broken-down lawyer's clerk, who -evidently enjoyed his triumph. - -"You're cooler, I see," resumed Jinks, and then looked into the earthen -pot again. - -"I don't mind a trifle, by way of recompense," said Straitlace, -torturing his tongue to frame the words, "if you'll only assist me in -recovering my apprentice." - -"Rayther sensible that," answered Jinks tauntingly; but still looked -into the empty pot. - -Straitlace overcame his own master-passion for the instant, and placed -a half-crown beside the empty drinking cup; but Jinks instantly pushed -it off the barrel, into the floor, in contempt. Straitlace felt the -blood rush to his neck and face, but once more struggled with his own -reluctance, took up the half-crown, and laid down a half-sovereign in -its stead. - -"Sensible,—very!" observed Jinks, slowly; and then suddenly starting -up, said, "Now, _Mister_ Jonas Straitlace, what will you give to have -this stray dog of yours put quietly into your hands, muzzled and -collared, so that you may take him home safely?" - -"Isn't that enough?" said the other leeringly. - -"Two whole sovereigns into my hands to-morrow morning at -seven,—here,—at the bottom of the steps,—and you have him. -Otherwise, there's your road, Mister Jonas Straitlace," returned Jinks, -and pointed to the stairs. - -The saddler saw he was in a most disadvantageous position for making a -choice, and hesitated. - -"I've other clients, and have no time to fool away upon you," rejoined -Jinks: "speak the word! yes or no," and moved towards the steps. - -"Then I'll be here at that time," answered Straitlace, with a mental -reservation; and he had scarcely uttered the words when three knocks -were distinctly given under his feet; but Jinks seized his hand, -hurried him down the steps, and thrust him out, and bolted the door -behind him, with a strength and speed that caused him to turn round and -stare at the closed door with wonder, when he stood once more in the -twitchel. - -The landlord seized his arm, and recalled him to the remembrance of -where he was. Straitlace evaded the landlord's inquiries as to the -result of his errand, persuaded that he could best carry into effect -the scheme which had suggested itself to him, with other aid than that -of a person who appeared to have some connection with Jinks. He marked -the way to the door, and paid particular observance to the passages, -and to the exact locality of the street, and thanking the landlord -for his trouble, took his way home, somewhat to the surprise of the -landlord himself, who had expected he would return to the public-house. - -On the night succeeding the morning in which Straitlace had been -admitted to that squalid chamber, the narrow space itself was changed -into a hold of guilty riot and thievish conspiracy. The fumes of -tobacco which filled the room would have rendered respiration -impossible to any but the actual participators in that scene of infamy; -the fog of smoke being so dense that the human beings there assembled -seemed to be kneaded into the thick vapour rather than surrounded by -it. The struggling flames of a fire which had just been kindled, -and was covered by a huge iron vessel, nearly choked up the draught -of the narrow chimney, and threw an uncertain light upon the figures -which nearly filled the narrow room. The singular being who was the -habitual tenant of the chamber sat in his broken chair close by the -fire, augmenting the gross sociality of his associates by the vehemence -with which he consumed tobacco in a wooden pipe; but adding not a word -to their busy conversation. A strong coarse-looking woman, crouched -immediately before the fire, was alternately attempting to clear a -passage for its progress, and slicing onions from her apron to put into -the caldron. Her short clay pipe, with the filthy black cup scarcely -protruding beyond her nose, showed her attachment to the favourite -excitement of her depraved companions. Behind her stood the barrel, -before described as the only substitute for a table in Jinks's room, -and upon the end of it was placed a large metal jug of spirits, which -the various members of the group lifted to their lips, by turns, as -inclination moved them. - -The confused conversation was suspended in a moment by three distinct -and measured raps being given at the door below; and Jinks jumped up, -exclaiming, "That's the young'un I told you of: I'll let him in." And -he darted down the steps, unbolted the door, pulled in Sam Simkins, -and, in the lapse of scarcely three minutes, introduced him to the -villainous company. The fellows gazed at Sam, and one swore that he -only looked like a starved rat, and another said he was more like a -stunted badger; but all agreed that he looked likely to be useful, -for he had a hawk's eye in his head. Sam felt somewhat loutish at -the unrestrained gaze of the thieves; but Jinks placed him upon the -bench next his own chair, chucked him under the chin, and holding the -metal jug to his mouth, told him to drink. Sam did drink a little, and -thought the draught scorched his throat; yet in a few minutes he felt a -flow of spirits that completely banished his bashfulness. - -"And so you've cut the starve-gut rascal, eh, young'un?" said an -impudent-looking fellow who sat on the farther end of the bench, and -who was, at once, the most frequent visitor to the jug, and the most -eager talker in the villainous conclave. - -"What the devil was he to do else?" said Jinks, seeming to wish to keep -off from the lad the assailment of questions by the gang: "was he to -stay and be pined outright?—Bess," he continued, addressing the woman, -"isn't the stuff ready?" - -"The can's empty," said the fellow who had just spoken, interrupting -Jinks: "we'll have it filled again." - -"Not to-night," said Jinks, with an oath. - -"Not to-night!—why not, old hang-dog, and be d—d to ye?" asked the -other, dropping his pipe, and looking as if he would fell his opposer. - -"Because there's a job on hand that requires cool brains, ye guzzling -ape!" answered Jinks, in a tone which showed he was not to be -frightened by the bully, his brother in roguery. "Wide-mouthed Bob will -be here directly, and we must then prepare for business." - -"What the devil can he be about to be so late?" cried the woman, who -was still squatted before the fire: "the broth's ready, and I shall -pour it out if he doesn't come in a crack. Hark!" she said,—and the -quarrelsome crew were silent:—"there he is!" - -Jinks started from his broken chair at the sound of a whistle, -hurried down the steps, and was speedily in his old position again, -while the new comer was welcomed with shouts of "Give us your hand, -captain!—success to ye!" - -"Silence, you fools!" said he who was thus saluted: "d'ye mean to bring -the bull-dogs upon us?" And he took up the jug, but finding it empty, -he looked discontented. Jinks, however, seized the jug, removed the -barrel from the spot on which it stood, pulled up a trap-door, and -descended, and then returned with the jug refilled, with the usual -rapidity that characterised his movements. - -"Ay, ay, you know who's come now, old juggler," said the bully, -tauntingly, to Jinks as he again appeared from the subterraneous room, -with the vessel full of brandy. - -"Yes, and I know that they have a right to the sugar-candy that are -the first to put their fingers into the fire to get it," said Jinks, -showing his ugly teeth very forbiddingly; "and not every skinking -coward that ties his neck to his heels to save it when there's work to -be done." - -The bully returned no answer, seeming conscious that his cowardice -deserved the rebuke. - -"Get the supper-tools out, Jinks," said the woman, and took the boiling -caldron from the fire. - -Jinks climbed upon his chair, and reaching down a large wooden bowl, -from its concealment in the ceiling of the room, placed it upon the end -of the barrel, and sat down again. - -"Why, you old brute, do ye think we are going to pig it all out of one -trough, on a night like this?" exclaimed the woman, pouring out the -stew into the bowl:—"reach every man his pap-spoon and dish, or I'll -spoil your grinding before you begin!" and she aimed a blow, with a -brazen ladle, at Jinks's scalp, which he evaded, and reached forth a -set of basins and spoons from the same strange repository. - -The steamy flavour of Bess's cookery speedily attracted the appetites -of her companions. Limbs of fowls and game, mingled with the soup, -showed the illicit source from which such a company had obtained the -raw provisions for the meal. Bess poured out half a basin of the stew -first, for the individual who was called "captain," and filling up -the vessel with brandy from the jug, handed it to the leader, with -a coarse coaxing smile. She then served the rest, in the order they -sat, beginning with Jinks, and not forgetting the lad. Sam smacked his -lips at such a treat, and congratulated himself on having taken the -advice of Jinks, and run away from his master. He soon disposed of the -contents of his basin; and then felt strongly attracted to notice the -appearance and behaviour of him whom the thieves acknowledged as their -principal. - -The personal appearance of Wide-mouthed Bob rendered the dependence -of the crew upon his presence and enterprise, Sam thought, a matter -of no wonder. His stature was full six feet, and the great breadth of -his chest and shoulders, and extreme length of his arms, terminated -by hands of monstrous size, gave demonstrations of unusual physical -power. The width of his mouth was the most striking feature in his -face, and had procured for him the common nickname by which Jinks had -first mentioned him during the evening. The forbidding glance of his -large eyes, from under a low forehead, and brows as shaggy as if they -pertained to an ass's colt, with the bull-dog shape of his head, at the -sides, causing his ears to stand forward after a form scarcely human, -were also peculiarities in the features of the captain-burglar. - -His third basin being despatched by this powerful animal, for -such his peculiarity of frame seemed to warrant his being termed, -the conversation took a turn for business. Robberies of a cheese -warehouse, a flour shop, a liquor vault, and even of the subterranean -workshop of a "smasher," or maker and vender of false coin, were -planned. The only debate was, which was to be undertaken first; and as -there was some difficulty in settling this point, the captain called -for the jug to be replenished. Jinks descended once more, but returned -with only half the vessel full, and, setting it down, declared the -barrel below was empty. - -"Then that determines the point," observed Wide-mouthed Bob: "we must -make our way direct to the brandy cellar." - -The gang immediately assented,—the liquor was shared; and in a few -minutes, all, save Jinks, and the woman, and the lad, descended by the -stairs, and departed on their lawless enterprise. - -Sam Simkins had fallen asleep some time before the departure of the -gang, but was awaked by Jinks, as soon as he had bolted the door -and re-ascended the steps, to receive his first wholesale lesson -in villainy. The lad felt the lesson very unwelcome to his nature, -at the beginning; but the remembrance of the horrors from which he -had escaped, and the promise and prospect of a wild freedom, and a -continuance of the good fare he had met among the thieves, soon subdued -the inward whisper that he was going wrong. Jinks and the woman were -most successful in their schooling of Sam, while they dwelt upon his -master's conduct towards him:— - -"But did the nigger-driver never let you play a bit, Sam?" asked the -woman: "you say you always dropped work at eight, and went to bed at -ten:—what did ye in the two hours, my lad?" - -"I used to read Jeremiah, and the rest of the prophet-books in -the Bible, and Romans, and Corinthians, and them ere parts of the -Testament," answered Sam: "mester would na let me read owt else, unless -I managed to do it slily." - -"And what did ye think to what you read, Sam?" asked Jinks, suddenly -dropping his pipe, and looking at the lad with an air of new interest. - -"He, he!" snivelled the lad, and twisted his thumbs with a loutish -look,—"I could na make owt on 'em!" - -"How the devil were ye likely?" said Jinks: "that Paul would puzzle a -Philadelphia lawyer, for he was a devilish long-headed fellow, and no -mistake; as for Jeremiah, and the rest of 'em, I know little about 'em; -but it was an ugly slavish way of using you, my lad,—you'll find the -difference now. All that you have to do is to mind your P's and Q's, -and I'll warrant ye, it'll be a merry life for ye." - -The lad snivelled again, and felt wonderfully pleased. - -"Now hark ye, Sam," continued Jinks, "who had your master in the -house, besides himself and you?" - -"The missus," answered Sam; "but hur never taks no notice o' nowt, -hur's ower deeaf." - -"Capital!" exclaimed Jinks, cracking his thumb and finger; and then the -lad received instruction as to his first grand act of villainy, and -while he was receiving it, Bess prepared the caldron, once more. - -Three hours elapsed, and the whistle of Wide-mouthed Bob was heard -again. Jinks performed his porter's office as before, and the captain -and three others of the gang speedily tugged up the stairs a couple of -kegs of liquor, which were as speedily concealed in the subterranean -room. - -"Where's the rest o' the birds?" asked the woman. - -"Sent 'em home to roost," replied the captain; "and now you and all of -us must cut, old girl, and leave Jinks to his cage." - -"But not before we've tasted the new broach," said the woman. - -"No more tasting of it, this morning," answered Bob; "we shall soon be -blown, if we carry on that game: we'll have breakfast and go." - -The word of the leader was law. The stew was again poured up; and when -it was devoured, Sam having his share as before, the chief burglar, and -the other three thieves, with the woman, departed; and Sam Simkins also -set out on the errand for which Jinks had lately bestowed instruction -upon him. - -At eight the following morning, Mr. Jonas Straitlace appeared in the -twitchel, as before, and summoned the attention of Jinks by a bold rap. -Jinks was speedily at the door, and Straitlace was again admitted into -the thievish head-quarters. - -"Now for the chink!" said the broken-down lawyer. - -"But where's the lad?" asked Straitlace. - -"The moment you down with the dust, that moment I tell you where he is, -safe and sound, and nearer home than you think of; so that you'll have -very little trouble to seek him," answered Jinks. - -"When I find the lad I'll pay you," said the saddler; "you may be -deceiving me." - -"Why, d—n it!" said Jinks, "what d'ye take me for?—let that sneaking -fellow, who stands squeezed up in the corner there below, be witness -between us." - -Straitlace turned pale; but Jinks was at the bottom of the stair in a -moment, and again ascended, bringing up a man dressed in a thick top -coat that covered his under dress. - -"Now, let this constable be witness between us," said Jinks: "he's a -respectable man, and you could not have brought a better man with you." - -Straitlace was amazed;—but he summoned resolution, and said, -"Constable, I insist upon your taking this man into custody, for having -either decoyed away from me, or concealed, or harboured, my runaway -'prentice." - -The constable put on a very stupid look, and answered,—"Why, as to -that, I've no proof of any part of it, you know, and I decline to -interfere." - -Straitlace felt confounded at the fact of his own man, as he had deemed -the constable, deserting him, and stood staring in amazement. - -"Now, Mister Jonas Straitlace," said Jinks, "I'd have you to remember -that I don't give professional advice for nought, any more than other -lawyers. You came here to ask my help and instruction, and I engaged to -give it you for two sovereigns: pay me that down, and I undertake that -you shall find your apprentice at home when you return." - -The saddler felt enraged at the villain's impudence, but the constable -was against him:—"If you made that bargain you had better keep it," -said the functionary, "and if this man breaks it, then I shall be -witness to it." And Straitlace felt he was so awkwardly fixed in -that suspicious place, and between the two, that he gave Jinks the -two sovereigns. Had he kept a strict watch upon the motions of the -constable and Jinks he would have seen them share the booty, ere they -hurried down the stair. - -Straitlace reached home, and found that Sam had returned, but was again -departed. His deaf wife could only tell that she had scolded him, and -made him get to work in the shop without his breakfast; but she did -not know when he went off again. The condition of the "till," in the -shop, fully proclaimed the way in which Sam had employed himself -during his brief stay. It had been forcibly wrested from its place, -though strongly fixed, and robbed of its contents, which were not -great, but were sufficient to destroy, by their loss, the peace of Mr. -Straitlace's spiritual mind for many a day after. - -Straitlace sat down to his work instead of going again in search of -Sam Simkins. Of what value would a thief be to me? was one question he -asked himself; and—shall I spend in law, to prosecute him, more money -than I have thrown away already? was another. A few days after, he met -the constable in Birmingham, and related his disaster. "You act wisest -to keep quiet," said the constable: "it seems the man kept his word -in sending the lad home,—so that I don't see how you could have the -law of him, there; and as for the young scoundrel, he would do you no -good:—good-day, sir." - -Straitlace did not know whether there was any soundness in the man's -observation about law; but he was loath to spend more money or lose his -time,—so he gave Sam up. - -The lad returned to Jinks's "hiding-hole," and received great -commendations for the clever way in which he had used the "jemmy," or -small steel crowbar, which Jinks had entrusted to him. The robbery of -his master's till was his first performance with this crack tool that -old gaol-birds chirp so much of; but it was not his last, by many a -score. He progressed in skill till he became the favourite comrade of -Wide-mouthed Bob, and the two were the terror of the neighbourhood for -years. - -It could serve no virtuous purpose to detail his thieveries; and as for -the character of the company he kept, the sketch foregoing may suffice -to show what it was. He was, at length, sent over-sea for life, in -company with the leader and two others of the gang; while Jinks escaped, -only to decoy more lads into vice, and train them for the hulks or the -gallows; but Mr. Jonas Straitlace, through the grinding of his customers, -lost them,—so that he took no more apprentices to train up, in his own -peculiar way, for Jinks's second training and perfecting process. - - - END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. - - - LONDON: - Printed by A. 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By ARTHUR WALLBRIDGE. -Foolscap 8vo. with Two Engravings, _Price_ 2_s._ 6_d._ - - "Instead of a silly puff of some real lunatic asylum, as we - surmised from the advertisement, it proves to be a quaint _jeu - d'esprit_, satirising the present arrangements of society. - Torrington Hall is, in fact, a clever little volume of innovatory - ideas with regard to the definition of madness and the principle of - competition. - - "The volume contains conversations on the present arrangements of - society, and the means of improving them—all pointing to a plan - which shall realise fully the dictates of Christianity, and make - the world a scene of pleasant affection, instead of one of fretful - contention."—_Chambers' Edinburgh Journal._ - - - _2 Vols., Half-a-crown each._ - - THE EPICURE'S ALMANACK; - -Containing a choice and original receipt, or a valuable hint, for every -day in the year, the result of actual experience, applicable to the -enjoyment of the good things of this life, consistently with the view -of those who study genteel economy. 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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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Wise Saws and Modern Instances, Volume 1 (of 2) - -Author: Thomas Cooper - -Release Date: November 12, 2017 [EBook #55951] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WISE SAWS, MODERN INSTANCES, VOL 1 *** - - - - -Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Bryan Ness, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter newpage hideepub"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" /> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter newpage"> - <img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="Title_Page" /> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<h2 class="nobreak p1">Transcriber's Note</h2> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations -in hyphenation have been standardised but all other spelling and -punctuation remains unchanged.</p> - -<p>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> -</div> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>WORKS</h2> -</div> - -<p class="center in0"><i>Preparing for Publication.</i></p> - - -<blockquote> -<p class="center in0"><span class="xlarge">LAYS AND LEGENDS OF FANCY AND FABLE.</span><br /> -A Collection of Oriental Tales,<br /> -ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE IMAGINATIVE CHARACTER OF DIFFERENT<br /> -AGES AND NATIONS:</p> - -<p class="in0">Designed to elucidate the philosophy of fiction as well as to afford -specimens of those marvels which have entered into popular belief, -and taken a permanent place in literature. The classical inventions -of the Greeks, the romantic fables of the middle ages, the gorgeous -and sometimes gloomy conceptions of the orientals, and our own -pleasing superstitions of fairy lore, will be exemplified by specimens, -and the influence of fancy on belief will be illustrated by a variety -of legends most of which have not hitherto been brought before the -English public. By <span class="smcap">W. C. Taylor, L.L.D.</span></p> - -<p class="in0">Adorned with Twenty beautiful line Engravings on Steel, from -pictures by British Artists, and several Woodcuts, elegantly printed -in demy 4to, and richly bound in gilt, <i>Price</i> 21<i>s.</i></p> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><span class="xlarge">THE BOOK OF ART;</span></p> - -<p class="in0">Or, Cartoons, Frescoes, Sculpture, and Decorative Art, as applied to -the New Houses of Parliament, as also to building in general: with -an Appendix, containing an Historical Notice of the Exhibitions in -Westminster Hall.</p> - -<p class="in0">The Volume, which will contain at least One Hundred Engravings, -is printing in the best manner, in royal 4to. <i>Price</i> 15<i>s.</i> handsomely -bound.</p> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>On the 1st of November, Part 1., Price Half-a-crown, to be continued -Monthly, and completed in Ten Parts</i>,<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="xlarge">WANDERINGS OF A PEN AND PENCIL;</span></p> - -<p class="in0">Being the results of an antiquarian and picturesque tour through the -Midland Counties of England, by <span class="smcap">F. P. Palmer</span> & <span class="smcap">Alfred Crowquill</span>. -The illustrations will be drawn on wood by the latter, and -engraved by our best wood-cutters.</p> - -<p class="in0">The Book will present something of interest for those readers who -cherish the affection for antiquity, or an appreciation of manners, -customs, and legends which abound in the nooks of "Merry -England."</p> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>At Christmas</i>,<br /> -THE<br /> -<span class="xlarge">HONEY STEW OF THE COUNTESS BERTHA.</span><br /> -A Fairy Tale.<br /> -<br /> -TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF ALEXANDER DUMAS BY<br /> -MARIANNE TAYLOR.<br /> -<br /> -With Coloured Engravings.</p> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>Square Royal.</i><br /> -<span class="xlarge">RAMBLES IN NORMANDY.</span><br /> -BY JAMES HAIRBY, M.D.</p> - -<p class="in0">Normandy, the cradle of our monarchy and aristocracy, the last -resting-place of our early kings, and the scene of our first great -struggles against France, must ever have strong interest for Englishmen. -We find our national associations connected with its most -striking localities; and many of our leading families must refer to -the archives of this province for the antiquities of their race. It is -also as rich in natural scenery as it is in historical associations; its -peasants surpass those of the rest of France in industry, intelligence, -and comforts; while the numerous English families who annually -visit its sea-coast for the purpose of bathing have brought it almost -as close to England in alliance as it was anciently in connection.</p> - -<p class="in0">This Volume will record the impressions of a two years' residence, -and sundry journeyings in the province, furnishing a useful guide -to visitors, and information for tarry-at-home travellers. The Illustrations -will consist of a variety of subjects, Costume, Landscape, -and Architecture.</p> -</blockquote> - - - - -<hr /> - -<p class="half-title in0 bold">WISE SAWS<br /> -<span class="xsmall">AND</span><br /> -MODERN INSTANCES.<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="small">VOL. I.</span></p> - - - - -<hr /> - -<p class="in0 center newpage bold"><span class="smcap">London</span>:<br /> -Printed by <span class="smcap">A. Spottiswoode</span>,<br /> -New-Street-Square.</p> - - - - -<hr /> - -<h1>WISE SAWS<br /> -<span class="small">AND</span><br /> -MODERN INSTANCES.<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span></h1> - -<p class="in0 center bold"><span class="small">BY</span><br /> -<span class="xlarge">THOMAS COOPER,</span><br /> -<span class="small">THE CHARTIST,<br /> -AUTHOR OF<br /> -"THE PURGATORY OF SUICIDES."<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -IN TWO VOLUMES.</span><br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="xlarge">VOL. I.</span><br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -LONDON:<br /> -PRINTED FOR JEREMIAH HOW,<br /> -209. PICCADILLY.<br /> -1845.</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">v–vi</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><span class="small">TO</span><br /> -DOUGLAS JERROLD.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">My friend, heart-homage, in this simple strain,</div> -<div class="i2">I yield thee for thy toil to aid the Right!</div> -<div class="i2">Too long hath genius, with a guilty slight,</div> -<div class="i0">Passed by the thousands who life's load sustain</div> -<div class="i0">Of scorn and indigence,—to court the vain</div> -<div class="i2">And foppish crowd,—or laud, in phrases dight</div> -<div class="i2">With fulsome flattery, some pampered wight</div> -<div class="i0">Who counts himself for polished porcelain,—</div> -<div class="i0">The poor for vulgar clay! A nobler path,—</div> -<div class="i2">Disdaining hireling censure, hireling praise,—</div> -<div class="i0">Thou, for thyself, hast chosen. Still, in faith</div> -<div class="i2">That thy true toil shall hasten the boon days</div> -<div class="i0">Of brotherhood renewed, brother, toil on!—</div> -<div class="i0">All upright hearts give thee blythe benison!</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">vii</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>ADVERTISEMENT.</h2> -</div> - -<p>With the exception of the last three sketches, the -pieces composing these two volumes were written -during the author's confinement, for "conspiracy," -in Stafford gaol, merely, as a relief from the intenser -thought exercised in the composition of his -"Prison-Rhyme,"—"The Purgatory of Suicides,"—already -published. Higher merit than naturalness -combined with truth is not claimed for any of the -stories: they are, simply, such as any man may -write who has the least power of pourtraying the -images which human life, in some of its humblest, -least disguised forms, has impressed on his memory,—while -the heart has formed no attachment sufficiently -powerful to seduce the judgment into a -decision, that it is either wise or honest to hide these -images from the observance of others. Nearly all -the homely characters sketched are real,—some of -them, in their very names; and the few adventures<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">viii</a></span> -allotted to them, are devoid of romance and intricacy, -because they seldom exceed fact.</p> - -<p>The "<i>Old</i> Lincolnshire," so often mentioned in -these simple pieces, and endeared to the writer of -them by the associations of thirty years of his life, -is likely soon to disappear before the social changes -of that <i>New</i> Lincolnshire which railway "civilisation" -will summon into existence:—would that the -manufacturing-misery of the modern Leicestershire, -outlined in two or three uncoloured and painfully-veritable -pictures, might, as speedily, evanish!</p> - -<p>Of the three concluding sketches, the writer feels -it right to state that the first is merely a slight -alteration of a series of paragraphs furnished to the -<i>Stamford Mercury</i>, in 1838, and records strict facts -which were then occurring in Lincolnshire; while -the two remaining fragments were intended to form -parts of a novel, in some degree autobiographical,—but -the completion of which was relinquished, at -first, from a toilful engagement with the sterner -business of life, and at length from a growing preference -for other subjects.</p> - -<p class="sigleft in0"><i>134, Blackfriars' Road,<br /> - London, Nov. 1. 1845.</i></p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">ix</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>CONTENTS<br /> -<span class="small">OF</span><br /> -THE FIRST VOLUME.</h2> -</div> - -<table summary="Contents"> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"> </td> - <td class="tdr"><span class="xsmall">PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Kucky Sarson, the Barber; or, the Disciple of Equality</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Raven Dick, the Poacher; or, "who Scratched the Bull?"</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Tim Swallow-whistle, the Tailor; or, "Every Dog has his Day"</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Davy Lidgitt, the Carrier; or, the Man who brought his Ninepence to nought</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Fisherman and the Fiddler; or, "Don't say so till you are sure"</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Master Zerubbabel, the Antiquary; and how he found out the "Noose larning"</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The beggared Gentleman, and his crooked Stick</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Nurture of a young Sailor; or, the History of Cockle Tom</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Last Days of an old Sailor; or, "Butter your Shirt! Sing Tantara-bobus, make Shift!"</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Dorothy Pyecroft's Preaching; or, "Charity begins at Home"</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_177">177</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">x</a></span><span class="smcap">The Minister of Mercy</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">"Merrie England"—no more!</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_201">201</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Seth Thompson, the Stockinger; or, "When Things are at the worst, they begin to mend"</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Sam Simkins, the Run-away; or, Villainy as a Refuge from the Tortures of Sour-godliness</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_235">235</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">1</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>KUCKY SARSON, THE BARBER;<br /> -<span class="small">OR,<br /> -THE DISCIPLE OF EQUALITY.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Once upon a time—and that was when "French -principles," as they were called, were beginning to -spread in England, and here and there one began to -profess admiration of the new republic,—there lived -in the little town of Caistor, in North Lincolnshire, -a notable barber of the name of Habakkuk Sarson,—but -"Kucky" was the name by which he was familiarly -known; for Lincolnshire folk are a plain folk, -and don't like, nor ever did, to trouble themselves -with uttering long cramp names.</p> - -<p>It would be difficult to say how it was exactly, -but somehow or other, in spite of the alarm which -landowners and tenantry alike felt at the broaching -of Jacobinism,"—that <i>terror terrorum</i> to the squirearchy -and farmers,—Kucky Sarson contrived to keep -a fair share of custom in the matter of clipping hair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">2</a></span> -and scraping beards. Scarcely an hour of the day -but Kucky had a customer; or if customers scanted, he -was sure to have company for gossip. Perhaps it -was chiefly owing to the frank-heartedness and real -courtesy of manner which the barber mingled with -his earnest speech—for he was a very great talker, -and a good one too,—that he was respected by almost -all who knew him, notwithstanding his open profession -of the principles of "equality."</p> - -<p>Indeed, it was a maxim of Kucky Sarson, that, "if -you believed all men to be equal, you ought to treat -every man like a gentleman." "That is the especial -hinderance to the spread of first principles, sir," said -Kucky to a customer one day. "Democrats foolishly -imagine, sir, that democracy consists in barking like a -bull-dog, or growling like a bear, at every man they -meet; when, the fact is, that that is just the way to -repel a sensible man from both yourself and your -principles. Don't you think so, sir?"</p> - -<p>Kucky's customer would have answered, but Kucky -held him at that moment by the nose, and was applying -a keen razor to his upper lip. The earnest -shaver did not think of this, but supposed, since his -customer was a stranger, that he was either modest -or unacquainted with politics; and, in the latter case, -Kucky was too true an enthusiast to omit the opportunity -of trying to make a convert—so he resumed, -after clearing his throat with a loud "a-hem!"</p> - -<p>"If the beautiful principles of equality do not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span> -spread, sir," he said, resolving to show his best graces -of conversational style to a well-dressed stranger, "in -my humble opinion, it will be chiefly attributable to -the miscalculating rudeness of those who affect to -advocate them. These principles, in themselves, are -so self-evidently true, and so happily calculated to -ensure the felicity of the human family, that it is impossible -for any unprejudiced man to——"</p> - -<p>"Pardon me, friend," said the stranger, extricating -his nose from the barber's fingers somewhat dexterously, -"there may be considerable doubt about the -self-evident truth of the principles you are speaking -of: you seem to me to be somewhat too hasty in -concluding that every one, from even a candid review -of them, must acknowledge them to be incontrovertible. -Give me leave to say, my good friend, that -nothing will be more stoutly controverted than these -same doctrines of human equality."</p> - -<p>"Men may controvert them, sir," rejoined the -barber, with some shade of an approach to asperity of -manner, "but I cannot, in my conscience, give them -credit for sincerity. Who was ever born into the -world with a star on his breast or his shoulder, to -signify that he ought to rule his fellows solely by his -own will?—or who was ever created with a crook on -his knee, to signify that he ought to bow down to the -caprice of others? No, sir, the doctrines of equality -are as clear as daylight when opposed to the darkness -of slavery and mastership. In short, sir, 'Right is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span> -every man's, but wrong is no man's right,' was a -maxim of my grandfather,—and I think it settles the -question."</p> - -<p>"Indeed!" exclaimed the stranger, staring at the -barber's last words, and opening his lips till the lather -ran into his mouth.</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir—I think so," repeated Kucky, striving -to look as confident as before, but evidently somewhat -doubtful, on second thought, of the conclusiveness of -his own odd logic,—"I think so, sir; for, as I hold -it to be a natural right for every man to be governed -only by his own consent, so I conclude it to be -wrong for any other man to attempt to rule him -without first asking his will or waiting his choice. -I think those two points are as clear as twice two -makes four: the first is a right, and belongs to every -man, and the second is a wrong that should be -practised by no man. Does not my grandfather's -precept mean the same thing—'Right is every -man's, but wrong is no man's right?'"</p> - -<p>"Pardon me, my friend," replied the gentleman, -unable entirely to suppress a smile, "if I say that I -admire your sincerity more than your logic. Allow -me further to say——"</p> - -<p>"Oh, allow, sir!" exclaimed the barber, bowing -very low, and spreading out his hands,—"to be sure, -I allow every man to judge for himself, sir. It would -be extremely inconsistent in me, who claim the fullest -freedom of opinion myself, to refuse others the liberty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span> -of thought, sir. I pray you, sir, forgive me if I have -been a little too positive in my manner: I will assure -you, sir, I am not a bigot,—indeed, I am not——"</p> - -<p>"Stay, stay, my friend!" cried the stranger, puzzled -and bothered with the superlative politeness of -him of the razor, "if you will finish your operation -upon my chin, we will have half-an-hour's talk on -these subjects afterwards. In the mean time, believe -me, I am happy to find you are so truly tolerant of -other men's opinions: if we all cultivated that spirit, -this world would speedily be much happier than -it is."</p> - -<p>"Excellent—excellent, sir!" exclaimed the honest -and enthusiastic barber, resuming his shaving, but -too much excited to leave his favourite theme—"you -speak like a true gentleman, sir. I see we really -agree, although we may seem to differ; for you have -just maintained a sentiment which is purely in accordance -with the principles I profess. Some great man -once said, 'No man was ever born with a saddle -on his back, nor was any other man brought into the -world ready booted and spurred to ride him.' That -was a very true and striking saying: do you recollect -it, sir?"</p> - -<p>"I recollect it, and admire it much," answered the -gentleman; "but I do not just now remember whose -it is."</p> - -<p>"Nor I, sir," rejoined the garrulous barber; "but -that is of little consequence, sir: truths are valuable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span> -solely for their own weight, and not for the sake of -those who utter them."</p> - -<p>"There, again, we differ," observed the stranger. -"I think that many truths are doubly valuable;—first, -for their intrinsic excellence, and often, secondarily, -for the sake of the great and the good men who -utter them. For instance, the striking saying you -have just quoted becomes, to my mind, as a passionate -lover of his own country, increasedly valuable, -when I remember that it is attributed to the illustrious -patriot-martyr, Algernon Sydney."</p> - -<p>"Why, sir," resumed Kucky Sarson, who was the -soul of ingenuity at an argument, "the man, and the -truth he utters, are very often one, essentially. Some -men's lives—nay, their very deaths,—are great truths -in themselves,—like the life and death of the noble -commonwealthsman you have just mentioned: in -such cases the man becomes so closely and entirely -identified with the truths he utters, that he and they -may be said to be one."</p> - -<p>"You are now really becoming too refined for me, -my friend," replied the gentleman, laughing. "But -give me the pleasure of your company for a couple of -hours at my inn, if you please, and I will do my best -to discuss these points with you, good-humouredly -and charitably, over a glass of wine."</p> - -<p>The barber was making his politest acknowledgments, -and was assuring the gentleman that he felt -highly honoured and gratified by his handsome invitation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span> -when old Farmer Garbutt, a regular customer -of Kucky's for more than thirty years past, although -a stout "church-and-king" man, pushed his burly -person in at the little shop door, and gruffly bidding -the barber "good-morning," sat down in the shaving-chair, -which the gentleman had just quitted. Farmer -Garbutt could not have come at a moment when he -was less welcome; but Bucky Sarson could not decline -to shave a beard he had shorn for so long a -period, and therefore politely assured the strange -gentleman that he would be with him, at his inn, in -the course of a quarter of an hour.</p> - -<p>Ere the farmer's beard was cleansed, however, -more than one additional chin had gathered round -the chair; and what was most vexing to Kucky, in -his impatient mood, was the "striking fact" that all -the chins and their beards belonged to the most -extreme and sturdy opposers of Kucky's republican -principles to be found among his regular customers. -With all his acquirement of <i>suave</i> manners, the poor -barber was greatly in danger of going into a passion, -as he heard, first one, and then another, allude, jeeringly, -to the persecution that was commencing against -Kucky's favourite doctrines. Yet he kept down the -rising storm within, though with a considerable -struggle:—</p> - -<p>"Ay, ay—they'll soon hang all the levellers -out o' the way, I'll warrant 'em!" said gruff Garbutt,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span> -rolling his eye in wicked waggery at his neighbours, -and then threateningly at Kucky.</p> - -<p>"What else can folk expect that side with cutting -off kings' heads?" cried Bobby Sparrow, a dapper -little master-tailor, who made and repaired habits for -the parson, and all the genteel people, of Caistor -and its vicinity.</p> - -<p>"More by token—such folk as would pull down -all the parish churches, and murder all the Protestants!" -added old Davy Gregson, a fat little retired -man of business, who liked to enjoy his joke,—sitting -in a corner of the old shop, and thrusting his tongue -grotesquely into his cheek,—although he was nearly -fourscore.</p> - -<p>"You will please to remember, gentlemen," interjected -the barber, driven to the extremity of his -temper, "that <i>I</i> am <i>not</i> an advocate either for cutting -off kings' heads, or pulling down parish churches, or -murdering people of any religion, much more my -own."</p> - -<p>"But ye take part with rogues that do, neighbour -Kucky," said Bobby Sparrow, with provoking pertness,—"and -the more's the shame to you!"</p> - -<p>"Ay, marry, good faith—that he does!" exclaimed -old Davy Gregson, enjoying the barber's -apparent soreness; "and it has always been held -that the abettor is as bad as the thief or the murderer!"</p> - -<p>"If you mean to be respected, Kucky Sarson,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span> -growled old farmer Garbutt, "be advised, and give -up all your Jacobin notions. The Squire says it -would be ruin for this country to be without a king -and an established church. I had a famous talk with -him on all these things at the rent-day; and so he -said: and if such gentlefolk as Squire Pelham don't -know what belongs to good government, I should -like to know who does."</p> - -<p>"Squire Pelham's great-grandfather was of a -somewhat different opinion," answered the barber: -"Peregrine Pelham was his name; and he signed the -death-warrant of Charles Stuart."</p> - -<p>"The Lord be merciful to us!" exclaimed old -Davy, beginning to look really alarmed—"why, -that was in the time of the awful troubles that my -grandmother used to talk so sorrowfully about!—Surely -you don't wish that such grievous days were -come again, do you, Kucky Sarson?"</p> - -<p>"God forbid!" ejaculated farmer Garbutt, solemnly.</p> - -<p>"You all <i>know</i> I don't, before you ask me," answered -the barber, with some show of dignity. "I -defy any one of you to say that there is a quieter -and more upright citizen in England than I am. -Who can say that I ever injured him? who dares -say that I ever cheated any man of one farthing—ay, -or that I owe him one? And do I ever try to -compel any man to think as I think? Speak!—any -one of you that can charge me with an act of -wrongfulness, or a single speech of intolerance!"</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, well—excuse us, Kucky! We all regard -you as an excellent neighbour. But you seem -more short about taking a joke than usual," answered -the dapper little master-tailor.</p> - -<p>The barber merely bowed, and said, "Well, well—never -mind, never mind, neighbours! we are none -the worse friends for a joke." But he was conscious -that he felt short-tempered, and heartily -wished his customers would shorten their stay, in -order that he might visit the gentleman at his inn. -Agreeably to his wish, the farmer, the master-tailor, -and the retired man of business each shook hands -heartily with Kucky, after a few more sentences of -restorative kindness, and bid him "good-day." The -barber forthwith doffed his apron and fore-pocket, -adjusted his neckerchief, brushed his hat, exchanged -his shop jacket for his holiday-coat, and crying -"Shop, my dear!" to his wife, hurried away towards -the inn, where, according to the strange gentleman's -request, Kucky had promised to meet him.</p> - -<p>To the barber's great mortification, when he -arrived at the inn the gentleman had been called out, -and had left word that he would be happy to receive -his new acquaintance at six in the evening. Kucky -Sarson felt half disposed to be unhappy with disappointment; -for he feared that he would be unable to -leave his shop at that busy hour of the evening. He -was hastening homeward, and striving to banish this -unpleasant feeling, when, passing by the end of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> -narrow street or lane, he suddenly saw the strange -gentleman in close conversation with a ragged, dirty-looking -female, who seemed by her uncouth garb and -sun-burnt complexion to belong to the wandering -race of the gypsies. The barber stopped short and -gazed in astonishment at what he saw. The woman -bent her keen eyes upon him; but the strange gentleman -seemed too much absorbed in looking at and -talking to the gypsy to be aware that he was discovered.</p> - -<p>The barber passed on to his shop, pondering much -upon what he had observed.—"What in the name -of prudence and propriety!" soliloquised Kucky, -"can such a person have to do with a houseless out-cast -and vagabond of a gypsy?" The more he -thought upon it, the more he wondered; till, in the -course of an hour, seeing that no one stepped into -the shop, he felt so exquisitely curious to know the -meaning of what he had seen, that he once more -doffed his apron and shop-coat, put on his holiday -covering, and sallied forth again in search of the -strange gentleman's secret.</p> - -<p>Turning the first corner of the street, he suddenly -ran hard against his old gossip, Davy Gregson, and -nearly knocked him down in his haste.</p> - -<p>"Hey-day, Kucky!" exclaimed Davy, "what a -hurry you are in!—I reckon you are posting away -to see the gentleman dance with the gypsy!"</p> - -<p>Davy Gregson's exclamation operated like lightning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> -upon the barber: he took to his heels and ran, -in the direction from whence Davy came, with all the -mettle he possessed. Just as he was crossing the -way, however, at the end of one street with the intent -to run down another, he was suddenly seized by -little Bobby Sparrow, the dapper master-tailor.</p> - -<p>"What the dickens are you running so for, -Kucky?" asked the little man; "you'll be too late -to see the gentleman huddle the gypsy—it's all -over, and——"</p> - -<p>"Huddle the gypsy!" exclaimed Kucky, "I -thought he was dancing with her?"</p> - -<p>"So he was: but he fell to kissing and huddling -her after that," answered Sparrow.</p> - -<p>"For Heaven's sake let me go see," cried the barber; -and bolted away again at the hazard of tearing -his coat, which the tailor had kept hold of. But -before he had stretched one hundred yards, he was -once more stopped; and this time it was by the -strong and effectual gripe of gruff farmer Garbutt.</p> - -<p>"Art thou mad, Kucky Sarson?" asked the -farmer, "or what is the reason that thou art scampering -away at such a hare-brained rate?"</p> - -<p>"The gypsy!" gasped the barber, still striving to -run,—"the gypsy and the gentleman!"</p> - -<p>"Pshaw, man!—the gentleman has suddenly -found his sister who was stolen when she was young," -said the farmer: "the gentleman has explained it all -himself, and has taken the young woman into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> -Pelham's Arms, where he puts up. I thought thou -hadst had more sense, Kucky, than to run after any -crowd that gathered in the street."</p> - -<p>"Crowd!" echoed the barber, "was there a crowd -then?</p> - -<p>"A crowd!" repeated the farmer, "that was -there, I assure thee. There: good-bye, Kucky!" -and so saying he loosed hold of his neighbour, who -was now in some degree cooled down.</p> - -<p>Kucky Sarson did not set off to run again; but -walked musingly on towards the Pelham's Arms -Inn, resolved, if possible, to get at the bottom of the -curious incidents just related. He was shown into -the strange gentleman's room at once, when he had -intimated that it would be inconvenient for him to -call at six in the evening. And now the barber felt -completely embarrassed, and quite ashamed of his -own curiosity, in having forced himself upon the -stranger so suddenly after the affecting occurrence -he had just been informed of by old farmer Garbutt. -In fact, Kucky had begun to stammer forth very odd -apologies, and was backing out of the room with a -profusion of bows and scrapes, when the gentleman -rose, and leading his newly-recovered relative by the -hand, introduced her to his humble visitor. Kucky -Sarson recognised her face for the same he had seen -in the narrow street a short time before; but the -altered dress and demeanour of the female caused him -to take her hand with much greater reverence than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> -he would have shown had that hand been offered him -when he first saw its owner.</p> - -<p>"I saw you a short time ago, when my brother -had just discovered me," observed the female, as the -barber took her hand.</p> - -<p>"You did, madam," replied he, stammering with -confusion, and surprised at the peculiar grace wherewith, -he now thought, the gypsy conducted herself.</p> - -<p>"No doubt you felt greatly surprised when you -saw us," observed the gentleman.</p> - -<p>"I must say I did," answered the barber, still -looking very bashful.</p> - -<p>"Did you witness any of my capers in the street, -my friend? I am fearful that I have played a somewhat -foolish part, for my elation well nigh drove me -out of my senses. Come, my good friend," concluded -the gentleman, noting the shy look of the barber, -"let us sit down, and, over a comfortable glass of -wine, talk over this matter;—not forgetting your -family adage of 'Right is every man's, but Wrong is -no man's right.'"</p> - -<p>They were seated accordingly; and the barber, -having been plied with a couple of glasses of claret, -and his shame-facedness having vanished, the gentleman -renewed the conversation, with a look of great -good-humour.</p> - -<p>"My good friend," said he, "I remember an observation -of yours which, it strikes me, you cannot -always bring to bear upon your mind with the force<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> -of a maxim, although you profess to have made it -one: it was that 'When we believe all men to be -equal, we ought to treat every man like a gentleman.' -Now, tell me, frankly, did you not completely forget -your principles of equality at the moment you saw -me with this my beloved and only sister, in the guise -of a vagabond gypsy?" The gentleman took the -hand of his recovered relative once more in his own, -and they looked with joy and love upon each other.</p> - -<p>The barber felt conscience-stricken with the inconsistency -between his philosophy and his practice, in -this notable instance, and, despite his natural loquacity, -remained dumb.</p> - -<p>"Nay, my good friend," resumed the stranger; -"do not think yourself unlike other people. Let me -see you rally, and display the spirit you did this -morning: all the world is too prone to fail in the act -of applying principles and professions to practice."</p> - -<p>"I do, indeed, feel," said the barber at length, but -still hanging down his head, "that I have <i>not</i> felt and -acted as a disciple of the great doctrine of equality -ought to have felt and acted this day."</p> - -<p>"And I think you will not fail to draw this great -lesson from your own experience, my friend," rejoined -the gentleman, "that, however intrinsically true it -may be that we are all equal in the eye of Him who -made us, yet our birth, our early associations, our -habits,—in brief, the whole complexity of circumstances -with which we are every hour, nay, every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span> -moment, surrounded, renders it absolutely impossible -for any of us to act at all times, or even generally, -upon the conviction of that most undeniable and -solemn truth."</p> - -<p>"You are perfectly right, sir," replied the barber, -conscious that the stranger spoke the language of -common sense, and feeling humbled into willing discipleship.</p> - -<p>"And, granting the doctrine of equality to be -strictly true," continued the gentleman, "yet how -long, how very long must it be, ere the race of mankind -shall be able to throw off their prejudices—their -present artificial condition, shall we call it?—so -completely as to reinduce and reinstate that universal -equality we have just agreed to be natural."</p> - -<p>"Very sensible, sir," interjected Kucky Sarson; -"but I am just thinking," he added, feeling some return -of his usual confidence, "that equality never -will be reinstated, unless we spread its great doctrines -by all the means in our power. Equality must be -enuntiated, maintained, and defended, sir; or, like -other truths which have lain hid for ages, it will not -produce any fruit."</p> - -<p>"True, my good friend," answered the gentleman; -"but permit me to remind you that practice is more -powerful than precept. If we each sought to act -towards our fellow-creatures as if they were really -our brethren and sisters, the principles of a true -equality would soon gain a citadel in each human<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span> -heart. It is the putting into practice of this deep -conviction of our common brotherhood which is really -most worthy of our endeavours. We may contend -against the artificial distinctions which are established -among men till doomsday; but if we do not, on all -occasions, display brotherly feeling towards our fellows, -our contention will produce no salutary effect."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, sir," said the barber, "I feel you are by -far the more consistent philosopher of the two——"</p> - -<p>"Nay," said the gentleman, cutting short the barber's -strain of intended panegyric; "I would not -have you suppose that I am a perfect practiser of the -maxims I am recommending. I never yet found a -man who fulfilled his own definition of a philanthropist, -a patriot, or a philosopher,—that is, if his definition -were worthy of being termed one. I only -press this fact upon your notice, my friend: that I -was once in the habit of talking as loudly about -equality as yourself,—nay, even dogmatically about -it, and that is <i>not</i> like your way of talking; but I -have ceased to talk about the name, and am now endeavouring -to spread the spirit of it. I try to do all -the good I can, to make every one as happy as I can, -to banish all the misery I can. I cannot always -keep in mind that every human being I meet is my -brother or sister; for the force of old habit is such -that a pernicious aristocracy moves within me sometimes, -but I try to keep it down. My friend, I am -preaching <i>to</i> you, rather than conversing <i>with</i> you;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span> -but we will now leave this subject for some lighter -theme, if you please; only permit me to say, in conclusion, -that you must never believe yourself to be a -thorough disciple of Equality while a grain of offence -arises in your mind on seeing a gentleman converse -with a gypsy."</p> - -<p>It would be tiresome to pursue any further the -conversation of the barber and the strange gentleman. -Suffice it to say that Kucky Sarson was an altered -man from that day, though he never saw the gentleman -again. He subdued the habit of expressing his -convictions in terms which he knew must give offence -and create prejudice, rather than advance truth, couch -them as courteously as he might in the flourish of -politeness. He turned his efforts, in the humble -sphere of his conventional existence, rather towards -preparing the world for rigid truth, than towards impelling -the people into the acknowledgment and practice -of principles of which they had not as yet learned -the alphabet. These changes, to Kucky Sarson's -honour be it spoken, came over his spirit, not through -cowardice,—for he possessed enough of strength of -mind and principle to have braved a prison, had he -thought his lot cast in the fitting and becoming time: -it was honest conviction which acted as a mollifier of -Kucky's manners, and the usefulness of the change -in him was evidenced by the greater good he effected -in his modified character. He preserved his grandfather's -favourite saying to the last day of his life;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> -and, as no one sought more ardently to fulfil the character -of an humble philanthropist,—to alleviate distress -wherever he found it,—to soften and dissipate -asperity of temper, and to create the genuine feeling -of brotherhood, and the practice of self-sacrifice -among all men,—so his name and favourite adage -were remembered after his death; insomuch that -when a word tending to difference arose among the -plain inhabitants of Caistor-in-Lindsey, it was usually -succeeded, and the difference prevented, by some one -observing, "Why, neighbours, what's the use of -wrangling? You know what good Kucky Sarson -used to say,—'Right is every man's, and Wrong is -no man's right.'"</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>RAVEN DICK, THE POACHER;<br /> -<span class="small">OR,<br /> -"WHO SCRATCHED THE BULL?"</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Kiah Dobson,—they always called him Kiah "for -shortness sake," as we used to say in Lincolnshire; -but his full name was Hezekiah,—Kiah Dobson -was a hearty buck of a farmer, who ploughed about -fifty acres, and fed sheep and bullocks on about fifty -others. He was a tenant of good old Squire Anderson, -the ancestor of the Yarboroughs, who are called -Lords in these new-fashioned times. Lindsey and -its largest landlord presented, it need scarcely be -said, very different features sixty years ago to those -they present now. Squire Anderson kept a coach, -but he had not three or four, like his successor, the -peer: he had one good house at Manby, but he had -not that and a much grander one at Brocklesby, another -at Appuldercome, in the Isle of Wight, and -another in town.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span></p> - -<p>The farmers of Lindsey kept each a good nag, for -market service, and so forth; but it was a very, very -scarce thing to find a blood horse in their stables; -and when their dames went to market, it was on the -pillion-seat, behind the farmer himself, and not in -the modern kickshaw gig. There were none of your -strongholds of starvation, which the famishing thousands -call "Bastiles," in those days; and a horn of -good humming ale, and a motherly slice of bread and -cheese, awaited the acceptance of any poor man who -happened to be journeying, and called either at the -hall of the squire or at the cottages of any of the -farmers on his extensive estates.</p> - -<p>Kiah Dobson was nearing his cottage one November -evening, a little before dusk, when a figure caught -his eye, the sight of which roused his gall,—and yet -Kiah was by no means a choleric or hasty-tempered -man. It was Raven Dick, the poacher, that the -farmer was so wroth to see; for Dick was beheld -as the farmer had beheld him nearly fifty times before,—with -a bundle of dead hares under his arm. The -farmer turned to cross the home-close in another direction, -willing, as it seemed, to give Dick another -fair opportunity of getting safely away. But "the -devil was in Dick for impudence," as Kiah used often -to say,—"if you gave him an inch, he would be -sure to take an ell!" Not content with imposing on -farmer Dobson's good-nature forty-nine times in the -course of his harum-scarum life, he must e'en "try it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> -on" for the fiftieth, and so made the experiment just -once too often.</p> - -<p>"Farmer! how d'ye feel yoursen?" said Dick, -striding up to Kiah Dobson, and looking him full in -the face, as bold as a bull-dog.</p> - -<p>"Better than thou'lt feel, scapegrace! when thou -gets thy hempen collar on!" replied the farmer, -snarling as angrily as a mastiff when he doesn't like -you.</p> - -<p>"May be the thread of it isn't spun yet," retorted -Dick, mocking the farmer's angry tone.</p> - -<p>"Surely, old Nick himself isn't more impudent -than his children that wear his own colour!" exclaimed -Kiah, darting a withering look at Dick's black face, -for Dick's skin was even swarthier than a gypsy's; -and I might as well say now as at any other time, -that the sable shade of Dick's countenance, coupled -with their knowledge of his wild way of life, were -the emphatic reasons why his neighbours gave him -the epithet of "Raven."</p> - -<p>Now, above all things, Dick did not like these -reflections on his unfair colour; so, with something -in the shape of an oath, Dick turned his heel in -dudgeon, and seemed, not at all to the farmer's displeasure, -to be bent on making his way home.</p> - -<p>Dame Dobson, who was a stout country-wife, and -was labouring lustily at her churn, and scolding one -of her maids, who had been idling, just as her husband -entered the cottage, caught a sight of the well-known<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> -poacher with the hares under his arm ere the -farmer could close the door, and, with the anger that -her maid had kindled, was ill prepared to brook new -provocation.</p> - -<p>"Shame on thee, Kiah, for letting that rascal -escape so often!" she exclaimed, screaming so loudly -that Dick could hear her words distinctly, though -nearly half way over the close; "it will come to the -Squire's ears at long-last, thou may depend on't! -and then thou knowst what will follow!"</p> - -<p>"Hang the villain!" said Kiah, "he really deserves -nabbing; and I've half a mind to go after him and -collar him; for, confound him! he grows more brazenly -impudent than a miller's horse! he's getting -worse than come-out!"</p> - -<p>"You'll ha' no need to do that," said the incorrigibly -idle maiden, who had gone to the window to -peep at the poacher, in spite of her mistress's fierce -scolding, "he's turned again, and has been listening -to you, and now he's coming hither as fast as shanks' -horse can carry him!"</p> - -<p>And so it was, for Dick had changed his intent; -and, with a perverse will, now strode, at full stretch, -towards the door of the farm house.</p> - -<p>"Curse his gallows-neck!" exclaimed farmer Dobson, -between his teeth, when he heard the maiden's -words: "has he such a brass-face as that comes to? -I'll nab him this time, or I'm a Dutchman else!"</p> - -<p>Raven Dick's foot was on the grunsel almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span> -before the farmer had finished this last sentence; and -throwing himself on a chair in the kitchen, and the -hares on the cottage floor, alike with the air and impudence -of one who braves the gallows, he asked for a -horn of ale and a lump of bread and cheese with as -little ceremony as if he had been a squire in his own -mansion. Dick's audacity, however, had now overstretched -its mark. The farmer's strong fist was on -Dick's frock collar in a moment; the next, the farmer -had dragged him from his seat; and, in the third, -Dick was prostrate on the cottage floor. Unluckily, -Kiah Dobson's anger overbalanced his caution; and, -with the impetuosity of his own force upon the poacher, -Kiah brought himself, also, to the floor.</p> - -<p>Dick had so long careered it over the farmer's fields, -by day and by night, and had so often "snickled," -or noosed the hares, as one may say, under the -farmer's nose, and the farmer had all the while -taken it so mildly, that the poacher was never more -surprised in his life than at this portentous assault -upon his person by mild, good-natured Kiah Dobson. -Had it not been for his imaginary security of feeling, -the poacher would not so easily have been overthrown. -And, as it was, Dick was not disposed to believe that -all was over with him; he speedily succeeded in -wriggling his body from under the farmer's weight, -and, in the course of a few minutes, had his knee -upon Kiah's breast, and began to grab the farmer so -tightly by the throat that he soon grew blacker than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span> -Dick himself. Luckily Dame Dobson's churn staff -came to the rescue. She pommelled the hard head -of the poacher so soundly, and her strokes came so -thick and fast after each other, that he was compelled -to loose his hold on the farmer's throat, in order to -catch the churn-staff from the farmer's wife. The -engagement, however, now became more furious. -Poor Kiah lay gasping on the floor, for some moments, -unable to rise, much less to aim a blow at the adversary; -but the war was at its height between -Raven Dick and the dame, and two stout maidens of -her service. Mops, brooms, and brushes were successively -impelled with no playful force towards the -seasoned skull of the poacher, but were shivered with -the rapidity of lightning, as he dexterously caught -hold of them, and wrested them from the hands of his -clamorous assailants. The din of female tongues -was scarcely less than the noise of blows; and when -the more effective ammunition was all expended, the -discharge was confined, at last, to the small shot of -epithets, poured in every imaginable shape, from -the fair musketry of the three female belligerents' -mouths.</p> - -<p>The scene had now become as laughable as previously -it had been serious. Raven Dick stood on a -chair in the middle of the floor, drawing his face into -the most whimsical forms and mocking the women, -while they stood around him, each with hands on hip, -and tearing their throats with the effort to abuse and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> -irritate, or otherwise to shame him. The farmer, -seeing what turn the war had taken, had seated himself -on a chair, and forgetting his anger, was shaking -his sides with laughter at the ludicrous and unwonted -scene presented that night in his kitchen. The affray -at length shrank into silence; the women's tongues -were fairly wearied; they each sat down to rest; and -so Dick sat down, likewise.</p> - -<p>"Dang it Dick, thou'rt a good woolled 'un!" said -the hearty farmer; "but thou art an idle rogue, after -all."</p> - -<p>"How so, Maister Kiah?" asked the saucy -poacher; "why do you call me an idle rogue?"</p> - -<p>"Because thou art fonder of stealing than working," -quickly replied the farmer.</p> - -<p>"Stealing, say you?" rejoined Dick, his brows -knitting together; "I scorn your words, Kiah -Dobson!—You lie in your throat!—What do I -steal?"</p> - -<p>"The 'squire's hares, by dozens, thou saucy -varlet," answered Kiah.</p> - -<p>"How come they to be the 'squire's hares?" -asked Dick, fixing his eyes very keenly on the -farmer.</p> - -<p>"By feeding and breeding on his land," answered -Kiah Dobson.</p> - -<p>"But don't <i>you</i> plough the land, Farmer Dobson?"</p> - -<p>"To be sure I do——"</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span></p> - -<p>"And don't <i>you</i> buy the seed to sow upon the -land?"</p> - -<p>"Sartainly I do——"</p> - -<p>"And don't <i>you</i> sow the seed when you have -bought it?"</p> - -<p>"Ay, and I can sow a breadth with here and -there a fellow in any——"</p> - -<p>"Pshaw!—don't <i>you</i> watch the corn while it is -growing, weed it, and attend to it till it is ripe? and -do not <i>you</i>, with the sweat of your own brow, and the -help of those you hire with your own purse, reap the -corn, and gather it into the stack-yard?—and don't -<i>you</i>, afterwards, pay many a shilling in wages for -Roger Brown, and Tim Wilson, and others, to thrash -your corn for you?—and don't you consider the corn -<i>yours</i> when you are taking it to market?—and don't -you think <i>you</i> have a right to receive the money for -which you sell it?"</p> - -<p>"Ay, and I would fain be knowing, Dick, who -besides has so good a right to it as I have," replied -the farmer, starting to his feet with warmth, and not -apprehending the drift of Dick's queries.</p> - -<p>"Then the corn which these poor hares have eaten -during the summer," said Dick, pointing to the dead -animals which lay on the floor, "was <i>your</i> corn, and -<i>not</i> the 'squire's, for you pay him his rent, don't -you, Kiah?"</p> - -<p>"Zounds, ay! to the very day," instantly and -proudly replied the farmer.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span></p> - -<p>"And yet <i>you</i> durst not kill a hare, and be seen -in doing it," said Dick, not permitting a moment's -pause to take place.</p> - -<p>"Me kill a hare!" exclaimed Kiah, scratching his -head, and colouring very deeply; "Lord! you know, -Dick, I've no licence; and, besides, the 'squire -always reckons the hares his own, you know."</p> - -<p>"Does he?" said Dick, with a peculiar sneer, -"then he's a fool for so doing.—Why, Farmer -Dobson, don't you remember how, last latter-end, -three persons came from Lincoln, and went shooting -like wild devils over the whole estate, murdering and -bagging all they could see? And it's more than -likely you'll have a greater number of the Lincoln -Minster Jackdaws, as the 'squire called 'em, this -month than you had last November; and will the -'squire be such a fool as to call the hares his own -then, when the black thieves are packing off with -them, think you?"</p> - -<p>"Dang it! thou talks very odd, Dick!" said the -farmer, sitting down very quietly, fixing his eyes on -the floor, and scratching his head harder than before; -"thou talks very odd, but what thou say'st is as true -as the gospel, for all that."</p> - -<p>"That it is, as sure as eggs are eggs," added the -dame, into whose mind conviction had been entering -a little more quickly than into that of her husband.</p> - -<p>"There now!" exclaimed Dick, springing from his -seat, and feeling proud of the power of his argumentation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span> -when he saw both the farmer and his wife -brought over so triumphantly to his side of the -question. "There now, you see, Kiah Dobson, a -man may be judged very wrongly, and be condemned -for a thief and a rogue by many who are either—saving -your presence, farmer—thorough fools -or rogues themselves, and yet, all the while, he may -be quite as honest as his neighbours. Now, don't -you think it hard, Kiah, under all the circumstances, -that <i>you</i> are not allowed to kill a hare when you -like?"</p> - -<p>"I'm not thinking so much about that," replied -Farmer Dobson, his eyes still bent very thoughtfully -downward—"I'm not thinking so much about that, -as I am wondering how, in the name of Old Nick, -these things came to be as they are. You see, Dick, -it was the same in my father's time, though I've -heard him say that my grandfather used to tell how, -in the time of the great troubles, folks killed game -when and where they liked; but that was only owing -to the unsettled state of things, for these laws about -the game were made before that time I take it, -Dick."</p> - -<p>"According to what I've learned about it," said -Dick, looking still more proud than before, and -feeling himself superior in information to the rest of -the company, "these Game Laws, as they are called, -began with William the Conqueror, the king that -I dare say you've heard of, farmer, that came from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span> -beyond the sea, and got possession of this country, -when——"</p> - -<p>"Likely, likely," said the farmer, yawning, and -growing wearied of Dick's learning; "I don't care -two straws who first made such laws, Dick; but I'm -sure of one thing—that it must be wrong, when one -thinks on it, that the great folk should claim the -wild creatures God Almighty makes himself as their -own, when, all the while, they have no more right -to 'em than other folk."</p> - -<p>"To be sure it's wrong, farmer," said Dick. -"What right could any man have, whether he -were a king, or a 'squire, or a parson, to say to all -the people of this country, or any other country, -'You shall none of you kill a stag, or a hare, or a -pheasant, under pain of losing a hand, or going to -prison?' The only wonder is, farmer, that people -have submitted to these laws so long and so quietly."</p> - -<p>"Why, you see, Dick," continued the farmer, -whose common sense was of a more solid character -than Dick's, though his perceptions were not quite so -acute at the outset of an enquiry—"you see, Dick, -this law is contrived, like most other laws, to draw -a number of folk into the love and the liking of it: -it isn't simply <i>one</i> man <i>now</i>, whatever it might have -been formerly, that is interested in keeping up these -Game Laws. Rich folks generally think they ought -to do no other but uphold 'em. They say, that all -the game would soon be destroyed if every body was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> -allowed to kill hares and pheasants when and where -they like. The 'squire, too, sends presents, you know, -to his acquaintances the great folk in London, and -elsewhere; and if hares and pheasants and partridges -were as common with poor folk as with rich, why, -the great folk would soon scorn to have 'em on their -tables. 'There are wheels within wheels,' as the -miller says, Dick. Rich folk are sure to hang together -on their side of the wheat-sack; and that is -the reason—more than their money, Dick, mind ye! -more than their money—why they are so much -more powerful than the poor. And for the self-same -reason that they <i>are</i> so powerful, Dick," concluded -the farmer, seeming determined to finish his speech -in spite of the poacher's evident dislike to it, "I -think it is far better for all who love peace and -quietness, and a whole skin, to keep out of harm's -way. You understand me, Dick! Come, dame, fill -us a good jug of ale, and let us have a bit of bread -and cheese, or a mouthful of bacon, and Dick and I -will talk these things over a bit, just in a quiet and -sensible way."</p> - -<p>The dame hasted to set her hospitality before her -spouse and the poacher; and it soon became hard to -say which most excelled in the act of doing justice to -it. The strong ale, however, was most freely partaken -by the poacher, and, under its potency, Dick's tongue -soon began to indulge itself with a tolerably large -licence.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span></p> - -<p>"I' faith, farmer," he said, "you gave me a roughish -reception when I crossed your threshold; you -must do things gentlier another time, when you're -disposed for a cramp: it's only a fool-hardy sort of a -thing to take a bull by the horns: it's ten times wiser, -when he makes a butt at you, to scratch him a bit, -and coax him, and smooth him down."</p> - -<p>The farmer was a little nettled by Raven Dick's -taunting tone and the devilry of his eye; but he -thought one scuffle enough for a day, and so replied -with a somewhat forced look of good humour, "I -hardly think it's wisest at all times, Dick. I think, -for my own part, the only way sometimes is to take -a bull by the horns. And besides, Dick, whoever -heard o' such a thing as scratching a bull? You may -scratch an angry cur, you know, Dick," he concluded -with a laugh, "but a bull!—no, no, Dick, scratching -a bull won't do at all!"</p> - -<p>"I know what I say, Farmer Dobson," cried Dick -aloud, thumping one hand upon the table, and pouring -the ale on the outside of the horn, instead of -into it, with the other, "I know what I say,—and I -say <i>scratching</i>!"</p> - -<p>"Speak in the house, Dick!" retorted the farmer, -colouring, "thou wilt not talk better sense for shouting. -I tell thee that that bull's only a fool of a bull -that will stand scratching! Wilt thou make me believe, -think'st thou, that any body would be such a goose, -for instance, as to try to scratch my old white bull<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> -in the second home close? Thou won't venture to -scratch him, I'm pretty sartain, Dick, with all thy -brag and bluster to boot!"</p> - -<p>"Won't I?" cried Dick, fiercely; "why, what do -ye fancy is to hinder me, eh! old clod-pate?"</p> - -<p>"Dick, Dick!" said the farmer, cooling himself -with the remembrance that the poacher was a much -younger and inexperienced man than himself, and -tapping the wild youth admonishingly on the shoulder, -"it is far wiser for a man to go steadily about getting -his bread, than either to scratch bulls, or to snickle -hares, depend on't. I don't say but that you have as -much right to practise one as t'other, if you feel -inclined; only, you are almost sure to repent it in -the end, in either case: you understand me, Dick?"</p> - -<p>"'Od dang it!" hiccupped Dick, setting his ragged -hat on one side, and looking at the farmer as if he -intended him to understand he was no ordinary hero, -"do ye think, Kiah Dobson, that I fear aught that -may happen? I say I <i>will scratch</i> your bull; ay, -and I'll tame him, too, as I've tamed you?"</p> - -<p>"Better not," replied the farmer drily; "better -go quietly home, Dick, and try to earn thy living -honestly, like thy father and thy brother Ned."</p> - -<p>"To Jericho with 'em both!" roared Raven Dick, -bouncing up from his seat: "they're fools both of -'em! I don't intend to slave for ever, and never have -any fun, like them. No, no! I'll have a hare when -I like; ay, and I'll scratch a bull when I like, too!—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span>so -here goes!" and out sallied the intoxicated -poacher, snatching up the dead hares as he went, and -placing them under his arm as before. Farmer -Dobson and the dame followed, for their curiosity -was, naturally, too highly excited to permit their remaining -behind.</p> - -<p>Just as Dick vaulted over the first hedge, for he -was in too heroic a vein to think of taking the stile, -though it was close by, Dick met one who was no -stranger to him. It was the squire's gamekeeper. -The moon shone brightly, and the gamekeeper -looked hard at Dick, and still harder at the hares -under his arm. But although the gamekeeper had -his gun with him as usual, he most likely felt unwilling -to encounter one so strong, and withal so -reckless as he knew Raven Dick to be, for he did not -speak to him. Dick spoke to the gamekeeper, notwithstanding.</p> - -<p>"Heigho!" said he, "brother poacher! how are -you for fun? just stop and look at me, while I scratch -Kiah Dobson's old bull, will ye?" and off he went -along the hedge-row in quest of his new game, while -the gamekeeper and the farmer and his wife stood -gazing after him in astonishment.</p> - -<p>Scarcely sooner said than done! Dick came up to -the bull as he lay in the pasture, quietly and unsuspectingly -chewing the cud, and Dick began to scratch -the bull. It need hardly be said that if Dick thought -this very funny, the horned beast's thoughts were of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> -another complexion. The bull rose, blurred, and ran -bang upon Dick, goring his ribs, throwing him up, -and, bounding to the other side of the field, left the -scratcher senseless upon the grass, and all before you -could have found breath to say, "Jack Robinson!" -had you been looking on, like the gamekeeper and -farmer and dame Dobson.</p> - -<p>Nothing in the wide world could have given the -gamekeeper greater pleasure than Dick's overthrow. -"Farmer Dobson," said he, "now is the time to nab -the rascal: fetch your wheelbarrow, and we'll put -him into it, and take him away to the next constable's, -and he shall put him into the close-hole, till -justice can be had upon him: it will do the Squire's -heart good, I'm sure, to learn that we have noosed -the Raven at last, after he has noosed so many score -brace o' game."</p> - -<p>Kiah Dobson's heart felt reluctant to assist in imprisoning -Dick, 'scapegrace, although he knew him to -be: but how could he refuse compliance with the request -of the squire's gamekeeper, for there lay the hares -by the poacher's side? Besides, as Kiah often used -to say, when he related the story in after years, -he reflected that although Dick was so good a logician -on the evils of the Game Laws, yet he had become -so outrageously daring in bidding defiance to danger, -that he feared ill would come on it, if a timely check -were not given to his course. So Kiah went and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span> -fetched the barrow, and he and the gamekeeper lifted -Dick into it, and away they wheeled him to the next -constable's house. A surgeon attended to Dick's -wounds, when he had brought him to his senses a -little; and, the next week, the squire himself, sitting -in judicial state at the hall of Manby, committed -Dick to the House of Correction for six months.</p> - -<p>Dick found the labour of knocking hemp—the -usual employ of prisoners in the gaols of North -Lincolnshire at that period—to be but pitiful -"fun." And when he reflected that he would be -likely to come there again, or to some worse place, -if he ever afterwards ventured to renew his practice -of "snickling" hares, he steadily resolved to -"work like his father and his brother Ned," as Farmer -Dobson advised. Dick's views on the Game -Laws never altered; but he felt, after this sorrowful -experience, it would be worse than folly to dream of -violating them with impunity, in a country where -"the rich all hung together on their own side of the -wheat sack," as Kiah Dobson had observed. Now -and then, when he happened to have shaken hands -too freely with his old acquaintance Sir John Barleycorn, -even years after his imprisonment, Raven Dick -would be liable to relapse into some shade of his old -feeling, and putting on a "gallows-look," as the -landlord of the Harrows and Plough, in Froddingham, -used to call it, he would threaten to return<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span> -to his old trade. But there was one saying which, -when "passed about" on the long settle of the -public-house, was always sure to raise a hearty chorus -of laughter at Dick's expense, and to have the -effect of dispelling, in a twinkling, all Dick's dreams -of having more "fun:" it was—"Who scratched -the Bull?"</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>TIM SWALLOW-WHISTLE, THE TAILOR;<br /> -<span class="small">OR,<br /> -"EVERY DOG HAS HIS DAY."</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Tim Swallow-whistle, the tailor, lived at Horncastle, -a thriving little agricultural town in the centre -of Lincolnshire, and now well-known even to the -verge of Europe for its prodigious yearly horse -fair, to which Russ and Pruss, Netherlander and -Austrian, Frenchman, Swiss, and Italian, with even, -at times, the turban'd Turk, may be beheld flocking -to purchase from the rare show of steeds: "but -let that pass!" Tim was not one of your fashionable -tailors, it is true, but he was reckoned an "uncommon -neat hand" at his trade. Indeed, old Cocky -Davy, who was a very emperor among the Lincolnshire -tailors, always declared Tim to be the cleverest -apprentice that ever received his indentures at his -hands. Old Cocky—he was so termed on account -of the particular loftiness of his carriage—Old -Cocky had one especial maxim; it was, "Strike your -needle dead, you dog; and make your thread cry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> -'twang!'"—and no one apprentice that ever sat -upon Davy's shop-board so fully gratified his master -by the gallant and complete style in which he fulfilled -this maxim, as did Tim Swallow-whistle. Cocky -Davy was often heard to say—ay, and to swear it -too, when in his cups—that it did his heart good to -see the masterly manner in which Tim used to strike -the cloth. And then, for finishing a button-hole, -"Good heavens!"—Cocky Davy would declare in -the White Swan parlour, when the clock was on the -stroke of twelve—"why, Tim could turn the thing -off his fingers with every cast of the thread as regular -and exact as if he had worked it by geometry;" and -then Cocky would thump his pewter tankard with -vehement force upon mine host's white wooden table, -and call to have it refilled for the last time that -night.</p> - -<p>It may easily be guessed that Tim Swallow-whistle -was not only a clever hand, but a hard-working lad, -while an apprentice, or otherwise he would not have -worn such excelling commendations from a master -who was quite as frequently found in the parlour of -the White Swan as in his own shop, and therefore -found it of incalculable value to himself to possess an -apprentice who would work hard while his master -played. Now, as a loitering apprentice usually makes -a worthless, idle man, so a diligent lad is almost invariably -found to carry his early habits of industry -into mature life, and to make a stirring and prosperous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> -citizen, unless some untoward circumstances arise -to bereave him of the power for exertion, or to deprive -him of its legitimate and well-deserved fruits.</p> - -<p>Tim Swallow-whistle did not belie the promise of -his youth. He was full forty years old when the incidents -occurred we are about to relate; and up to -that time, as he used himself to say, "Nobody could -ever say he had an idle bone in his skin." But, let a -man be as industrious and well-disposed as he may, -ten to one but somebody or other in this crooked -world will be found determined to find fault with -him. So it was with Tim: he "minded his own -business" most emphatically; for he was regularly -found on his shop-board every morning, winter or -summer, as the clock struck five; and he seldom -quitted it before seven at night, unless on some -special holiday occasion: he "paid every one their -own"—that is to say, he kept no scores, either at -the baker's, the butcher's, the grocer's, or at the alehouse: -he had a whole coat on his back—though -there was, here and there, a patch in it of his own -neatest style of repair: and, to conclude the catalogue -of his competency in his own language, "he had -always something to eat when other folk went to -dinner."</p> - -<p>Tim contrived to keep up to this standard of comparative -comfort, too, in spite of a breeding wife, who -had stocked his cottage with nine "small children," -though he was not married till he was thirty. With<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> -so many excellences, who could have thought that -any one would be bad enough to attempt to mar -Tim's well-earned happiness? But the world is, what -we have just termed it, a crooked world; and so -poor Tim was doomed to meet with undeserved -annoyance.</p> - -<p>Just opposite Tim's little shop lived a great professor -of sour-godliness. Unluckily, he was not only -of the same homely trade with Tim, but was enabled -to hold up his head more loftily among his fellow-tradesmen, -by reason that a maiden aunt happened -to die and leave him a neat little freehold that -brought him in 50<i>l.</i> a-year, in addition to his earnings -by the shears, needle, and thimble. Jedediah -Prim—for so was this fortunate tailor called—was -adjudged by his neighbours to be ill-disposed -towards his poorer brother snip, solely because Tim -had always sufficient employ for himself and an apprentice, -whereas Prim's manners were so uninviting, -and his character so mean, that he barely -ensured occupation for his own solitary needle.</p> - -<p>Since Prim, at heart, was a worshipper of Mammon -above all other gods, it was not at all wonderful -that he felt envious at his neighbour's trade. Nevertheless, -Prim ever affected the greatest scorn of these -neighbourly charges of avarice and envy, and most -piously averred that he had no other distaste to "the -man over the way," as he called Tim, than that which -was created in his soul by "the ungodly man's profaneness!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span> -"He is every day selling his soul to -Satan by the whistling of the Evil One's own tunes!" -was Prim's godly lamentation over the evil ways of -his neighbour. This was a severe hit at the only -kind of recreation in which poor Tim indulged. He -had been a hard whistler, as well as a hard worker, -from a lad; and from the peculiarity of his way of -whistling, which very much resembled an endless -twitter, Tim caught the curious <i>soubriquet</i> of "Swallow-whistle" -among his fellow-apprentices at Cocky -Davy's, and kept it to his dying day.</p> - -<p>Now, whistling or twittering are but very humble -kinds of melody, but I care not however lowly or -merely imitative may be the degree of the divine -faculty of music that a human creature may be endowed -with, I'll warrant him, there will be something -like real nobility of heart or mind about him, let his -vocation and whereabouts in this ill-arranged world -be what it may. And truly, so much might, without -hesitancy, be affirmed of twittering Tim the tailor of -Horncastle. With all his knowledge of the ill-will -borne towards him by Prim the puritan, Tim Swallow-whistle -would have sprung off his shop-board like -a bounding fawn, and with a bounding heart of joy, -to have done the envious Jedediah a good turn. Yet, -with all his bountiful good-nature, Tim possessed a -fair share of shrewdness. He had lived long enough -to learn that over-weening envy usually overshoots -its mark, and most severely punishes its own voluntary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span> -slaves. Thus, of all men in the little town of -Horncastle, Tim Swallow-whistle was least disturbed -at what every one talked of as a scandalous matter, -namely, the envy and malevolence of Jedediah Prim, -the religious tailor. "Never mind; 'every dog has -his day!'" Tim would reply, and twitter away again, -to every successive tale his neighbours brought him, -about what Prim said, and what Prim did: for you -never knew of two neighbours being "at outs" in -your life, but a host of voluntary messengers, on -either side, could be found to fetch and carry fuel to -maintain the heat between them.</p> - -<p>What moved Tim Swallow-whistle more than any -other event in his life was the fact of Prim the puritan -being made overseer of the poor, and throwing -Tim's poor old grandmother entirely upon his maintenance. -The aged woman had nearly reached a -century of years; and, at the mere cost of half-a-crown -per week to the parish, was nursed in her -second childhood by Tim's widowed mother, who -lived in a little cottage, hard by her son. Tim had -willingly, nay eagerly, contributed to supply the -wants of the two aged women through all the difficulties -felt by a man situated as he was, with an increasing -family, for there was not a grain of sordidness -in his noble nature; but it was no joke for poor -Tim to have the entire weight of the burthen cast -upon him. For several days after the announcement -was formally made him—and pious Prim took care<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> -to have the devilish satisfaction of performing the -annoying business himself—poor Tim suspended his -twittering, and "struck his needle dead" in a savage -mood of reflection. Tim's reflection ended, however, -in the way that, with such a heart, it was natural -for it to end,—in the manly resolve that he would -work the very skin off his fingers, and go without a -meal every day in the week, rather than permit his -old grandmother to want. "Every dog has his -day!" echoed Tim, recovering his wonted elasticity of -spirits; "Jedediah Prim will not be overseer of the -poor for the parish of Horncastle to all eternity;" -and away he burst into a mellifluous twitter that -floated, in the form of "Merrily danced the Quakers," -gaily across the street, and entered into the very -"porches of the ears" of Prim the puritan, much -to the deadly annoyance of that heart of envy. During -the continuance of Tim's overture for the day, -there entered into his cottage a travelling tinker, who -besought leave of the tailor to light his pipe.</p> - -<p>"Ay, lad, and welcome," blithely answered Tim; -and away he went twittering his old burthen of -"Merrily danced the Quakers."</p> - -<p>"Marry, good faith, maister!" said the tinker, -folding his arms and looking as if he felt inclined for -'a bit of chat,' as they say in Lincolnshire; "why, -that was the very tune my poor old mother was so -fond of! I can't help feeling fond on't, d'ye know, -maister; for my mother was a good mother to me—the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span> -Lord rest her soul!" and the hardy tinker's voice -faltered in a way that showed his heart had its tender -place, notwithstanding his rough exterior. Tim's -twittering was arrested; the tinker had touched him -on a tender chord, and his whole heart vibrated, sympathetically.</p> - -<p>"Sit you down a while, friend, and smoke your -pipe quietly," said Tim, pointing to a seat near his -shop-board; "I'll tell our Becky to get out the -copper kettle for you to mend as soon as she comes -down stairs; we haven't used it these three years for -want o'mending."</p> - -<p>"And times have been too hard for you to have it -mended before, I reckon, maister," said the tinker.</p> - -<p>"Nay, as for that," replied Tim with a smile and -a shake of the head, "they're not much mended now; -I find it to be only a cross-grained world, I'll assure -you, friend; but I always make it a maxim to take -things as easy as I can; for, as I always say, 'Every -dog has his day,' and among the rest of the poor -dogs one doesn't know but one's own turn to have -a day may come yet."</p> - -<p>"Right, maister, right!" ejaculated the tinker, -drawing a full breath at his pipe, and puffing out a -full cloud of satisfaction; "there's sartainly a comfort -in thinking so: yet it isn't a pleasing thing to -be striving to do one's best, and to pay every one -their own, and yet to be trampled upon, as poor folks -too commonly are in this world."</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span></p> - -<p>"Very true, friend," chimed in Tim Swallow-whistle, -assenting readily to a remark that reminded -him so strikingly of his own experience; "very true: -there's nothing that gives an honest man any uneasiness -equal to that: for my part, I've no wish to be -richer or loftier than my neighbours; but I must say -the man must feel it hard who's ill-used, after striving -to do the best he can for everybody as well as -himself."</p> - -<p>"Well, you see, maister, it shows that what the -Scripter says is true, 'that money is the root of all -evil,'" rejoined the tinker; "for you'll always observe -that a man begins to trample upon you as soon -as he happens to begin to get on in the world a little -better than yourself."</p> - -<p>"'Tis too often the case, friend," said Tim, not -fully approving of the tinker's sweeping remark, but -still feeling the forceful truth of it in his own case; -"and yet I can't understand how it should be so."</p> - -<p>"At any rate, maister," said the tinker, interrupting -the other, "one can understand one thing: -that if things could be put more on a level in this -world, there wouldn't be such foul dealings as we see -now; for if one man wasn't allowed to be so much -stronger in the pocket than another, all men would -be more likely to gain respect; all this bowing and -scraping of poor to rich would be at an end, I mean."</p> - -<p>"Why, yes," interjected the tailor, stopping his -needle when it was but half way through the cloth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span> -and feeling a disposition to be abstracted; "that's -true enough—true enough, friend: but for my part -I don't see how the vast difference between the rich -and the poor is to be remedied. You see it's the -nat'ral course of things: some folk are idle, and -others unlucky; while money makes money, when a -man once gets hold on't—that is, if he tries to turn -it over, and takes care of it as it gathers."</p> - -<p>"Just so, maister; that's all very true as far as it -goes," rejoined the tinker; "but I think that's not -exactly what the parson calls the end o' the chapter. -I'm but a plain man, and no great scholar; but I -always take Brimmijem and Sheffield in my yearly -round, and one hears a bit o' long headed-talk, maister, -now and then in such places: you'll excuse me -if I tell you a little of what I think about these -things."</p> - -<p>"Prythee, don't mention that, in that sort of a -way," said Tim, hastily; "I'll assure thee that -there's nobody likes a man that speaks his mind -better than I do."</p> - -<p>"Thank ye, maister," continued the tinker; "then -I'll tell you what I think: I think there ought to be a -law to compel folk that make money so fast to use it -in making their fellow-creatures happy, instead of -spending it on finery and foolishness."</p> - -<p>"Why, you would make folks kind and good by -law then, friend! Hum! I can't see," disputed -Tim, again suspending his needle, and looking very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> -metaphysically upon the corner pane of his shop -window, "I can't see how that scheme would be -likely to succeed. Excuse me, friend, but I think -you are talking about may-be's that'll never fly."</p> - -<p>"Look ye, now, maister," resumed the tinker, -laying down his pipe, raising his hand with the fore-finger -pointed, and looking greatly in earnest to -substantiate his theory; "this is my point: God -Almighty made us all of the same flesh and blood, -not some of china and the rest of brown marl: he -made us to live like brothers; and if one had better -wit than the rest, it was his duty to use it for the -benefit of all his brothers and sisters, as well as for -his own benefit. So, if a man by money makes -money, since he can't do that without the help of -other folk, I maintain that that money ought to be -distributed, and all that it will buy, for the benefit -of all, but more especially for the comfort of those -whom the money-maker made use of in making his -money."</p> - -<p>"You mean, if I understand you," said Tim -Swallow-whistle, looking as much like a logician as -he knew how, in order to keep the tinker in countenance—"you -mean, my friend, that when men -with full pockets employ men with empty ones, and -by the labour of the poor make their full pockets -flow over, there ought to be a fairer division of the -profit."</p> - -<p>"That's exactly what I mean, maister," answered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span> -the tinker, smiling with enthusiasm, "you have -hit the nail on the head, completely: I think there -ought to be a law, ay, and I think it's more needed -than any other law, to prevent the rich from employing -the poor just for what wages they please, -and to so order things that every man who makes -money by other men's labour shall be compelled to -give his workmen such a share of his profits as will -enable them and their wives and children to live in -decency and comfort, instead of rich men being allowed -to grow richer and wantoner every day, while -their poor slaves go, often, with naked backs and -hungry bellies. Ah, maister," concluded the tinker -in a tone where the heart was heard, "you know -little about the real suffering there is in England; -but I can tell you one thing,—and that is, that in -the manufacturing places, where this pinch-gut -system is most felt, thousands say they won't stand -it much longer!"</p> - -<p>The tinker ended this speech in a tone of voice so -loud that Tim Swallow-whistle felt prompted to look -round him for listeners. To his great chagrin, Prim -the Puritan stood pricking his ears, but a few yards -from Tim's door, with his back turned towards it, -but evidently collecting every seditious syllable -uttered by the travelling tinker. Tim placed his -fore-finger significantly to his lips; and the tinker, -marking the direction of Tim's eyes, took the hint, -and immediately turned the conversation to the subject<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span> -of the copper tea-kettle. The tailor's wife was -called down-stairs; the kettle was produced; the bargain -was readily struck; and the tinker proceeded, -out of doors, with his vocation. Tim Swallow-whistle, -meanwhile, being left to uninterrupted reflection, -turned over and over again, in his mind, the -weighty thoughts which had been started by the traveller. -Tim could not easily quell the indignation -against money-making oppression which the tinker's -tale had raised within him; and the plain man's plain -reasoning, respecting the rights of the labouring poor, -appeared to him uncontradictable; yet all his sympathies -for the distressed yielded, at length, to the -strength of his common sense, and the consciousness -that, care as much as he might, he could not alter the -state of the oppressed:—</p> - -<p>"The world is <i>as it is</i>," said Tim to himself, mustering -up as much wisdom as he was master of; "it -has not been right this many a long year, if all that -our forefathers said can be true: and, what's worse, -one doesn't see much chance of its being speedily set -to rights. But what's the use of grumbling at it, -day after day? that would only whitter the flesh off -one's poor bones. No, no; what the man says is -true enough, no doubt," concluded the soliloquising -Swallow-whistle; "but I will not make myself uneasy -about what I can't mend: at least I won't any -further than I can help. Let the world wag! I'll try -to make myself as easy as I can in it, with all its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span> -awkwardness. Every dog has his day,—and perhaps -mine will come yet."</p> - -<p>This was no elevated moral channel in which Tim's -thoughts were running when the tinker re-entered; -but it was one which had served to drain Tim's -heart from the troublous inundation of discontent, -amid the toils and difficulties of his whole mature -life. Tim invited the tinker to take another pipe, -and entered on the old subject in a way that showed -his mind was made up.</p> - -<p>"Well, my good friend," he began, "I have been -thinking about what has fallen to your lot to see; -and I must take the liberty to tell you, that although -I cannot help feeling grieved for the distress of others, -yet I very much doubt the wisdom of a man dwelling -on these thoughts of sorrow till he feels a disposition -to be discontented with every thing around -him."</p> - -<p>"So do I, maister," chimed in the tinker, interrupting -Tim,—"so do I: but when one sees and hears of -things that one knows to be wrong, one can hardly -prevent one's sen, you know, from turning 'em over -in one's mind, and trying to think how they could be -righted. I'm not a man given to low spirits, mysen, -maister; I contrive to keep my heart up, and go on; -though I don't think the world's quite right, for all -that."</p> - -<p>"I'm glad to hear what you said just now," continued -Tim: "I assure you I've some little rough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span> -usage to bear; but I always find cheerfulness, and a -disposition to make the best o'things, by far the wisest -way of living."</p> - -<p>"So do I, maister," again burst in the tinker, very -much to the annoyance of the tailor, who wanted to -come to the end of his "say," without interruption—"so -do I; only, you know there's no harm in talking -about these things, now and then. And, besides, -maister, you know, the world never will be any better, -if we all shut our eyes, and say we see no wrong -in it."</p> - -<p>"Right, very right," replied Tim, a little bit put -out of the path he had intended to take, but still -resolved to make direct for his point, if he could; "I -don't deny that: but how long will it be before the -world is bettered, even if we keep our eyes open, and -tell aloud of all the wrong we know in it? You and -I are not the first who have discovered the world to -be wrong, depend on't. Tinkers and tailors," continued -Tim, smiling as he proceeded, "have been -found in many countries, as far as my little book-larning -informs me, who have imagined they could -repair the rents in the world; but, in too many -cases, these fellows were the very greatest practisers -upon the helplessness of their weaker brethren. As -for the few who have been in earnest, they have -usually been silenced, in one way or other, by those -whose interest it was to keep up the wrong in the -world. That the world never will be better," concluded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span> -Tim, "I will not undertake to say; but the -day, I fear, is so far distant, my good friend, that you -and I will neither of us be likely to live to see it. -Don't take it amiss; but I can't help thinking so."</p> - -<p>The tinker was ready with an answer; but two -customers of Tim's here came in, and the travelling -tinker, thinking that it would be both ill-mannered -and wearisome to the tailor for him to stay, and -attempt to renew the conversation, wished Tim -"Good day," and prepared to set out again on his -journey. Tim extended his hand, and returned the -tinker's friendly gripe in a way that told the traveller -his few strong hints would be thought of on another -day.</p> - -<p>With all Tim Swallow-whistle's shrewdness, he -was perfectly free from craft. The thoughts created -in his mind by this conversation with the travelling -tinker naturally found their way, now and then, into -his exchanges of opinion with his customers. Prim -the Puritan was not slow in learning this: in fact, -his evil nature had plotted Tim's destruction from -the moment that he overheard the conversation between -Tim and the tinker. Spies were sent to draw -the tailor out; and, eventually, poor Tim was set -down in the day-book of every influential man in -Horncastle as a "dangerous and seditious fellow." -From that day, poor Tim Swallow-whistle's business -began to decline. The trial was a bitter one to Tim; -for his aged grandmother sank to the grave, beholding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> -the clouds of adversity gather around her grandchild's -dwelling; but, in the serenity of death, -steadfastly directed her weeping descendant to trust -in uprightness, and it would be his comfort. Then -his mother sickened and died,—yielding, after a hard -struggle, to the Last Enemy, but expiring with an -exultant smile, after assuring her child that her own -greatest consolation was that she had been dutiful to -her mother, and she was confident he would yet see -bright days as the reward of his spotless filial piety.</p> - -<p>In vain Tim asked for parochial relief in the hour -of his sore straitness, when his wife's health failed -with the labour of waiting upon her sick relatives, -and when Tim's earnings dwindled to a starving pittance -by reason of his being compelled to wait upon -those around him that could not help themselves. -Prim held the purse-strings of the parish tight. Tim -fasted often when his neighbours fed, and fed well: -but he never despaired. "Every dog has his day," -he still thought, but refrained from saying much, and -still battled with thoughts that would have unmanned -him.</p> - -<p>Tim was repeating to himself his old adage one -afternoon, about six months after his mother's death, -when the clergyman of the parish entered his cottage, -and, to Tim's indescribable surprise, desired Tim to -take the measure of him for a new suit! Now the -fact was, that the clergyman was, necessarily, more -than once in Tim's dwelling during the successive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span> -illnesses of his grandmother and mother; and, although -prejudiced against the tailor, from the reports -circulated to his detriment, yet he was too sensible a -man not to use his opportunities of scrutinising Tim's -real character, and too much a gentleman, in the best -sense of the word, to permit a poor but worthy man -to suffer if his own help could avail to relieve him. -The clergyman saw that Tim wore his heart too -much on the outside of his waistcoat to be a rogue; -and the clergyman determined to help Tim by his -patronage and his "good word."</p> - -<p>The prejudices against Tim, however, were not -dispelled all at once, though many began to look -upon him with new eyes when they heard that the -town-parson had actually given him orders for a -new suit. The climax of the poor tailor's sorrows -was now, however, gone by; and the future was -preparing for him its triumphs and joys. One -event gave him some trouble; but what kind of -trouble? Ah! it was of that kind which is most -truly troublous to a heart which has struggled to -train itself into correctness. The termination of -Prim's two years of overseership arrived, and the -parish vestry would not pass his accounts, having -discovered him to be guilty of an immense embezzlement! -Tim had real trouble with his own heart -throughout the whole of the day on which he first -learnt this fact. Exultation over his old enemy was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> -the feeling that strove to be uppermost; but Tim -virtuously kept it down.</p> - -<p>Succeeding years displayed a striking contrast in -the lives of Tim Swallow-whistle and Prim the -Puritan. The houses which the cheating overseer -had recently bought with the fruits of his fraud were -sold to raise law-expenses; even his aunt's freehold -went to the hammer for the same purpose: and Prim -only escaped a prison by some technical flaw in the -wording of the proceedings taken out against him. -He was ruined, however, and became comparatively -a beggar, while his character sank for life. Tim's -honesty and industry, on the other hand, raised him -daily in the estimation of his neighbours. Competence, -amounting, at length, well-nigh to wealth, -beamed upon him, and, ere his grey hairs went down -to the grave, he lived to leave a crown-piece, often, -at the door of the ragged and wretched man who -was once his envious persecutor and the oppressive -overseer.—Tim Swallow-whistle preserved, even to -his dying day, that nobility of heart which forbade -him to triumph over a fallen enemy; but he would -often repeat, half mechanically, to himself, when -passing from the poverty-stricken door of Prim the -Puritan, "<i>Every dog has his day</i>."</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>DAVY LIDGITT, THE CARRIER;<br /> -<span class="small">OR,<br /> -THE MAN WHO BROUGHT HIS NINEPENCE TO NOUGHT.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Louth, sixty years ago, as now, was the handsomest -as well as the largest town in the north of Lincolnshire, -though you would not then have seen in it, as -you may now, if you go that way, a dashing mail-coach, -with a dashing red-coated and gold-laced -guard, dash off and dash in daily to and from Rasen, -and Gainsborough, and Sheffield. "Long" Ludforth, -too—(they spell it "Ludford" on the maps; -but, doubtless, they who live there know better the -name of the place than your mere map-makers!)—Long -Ludforth, too, was nearly as deserving of its -name, then, as now. And, in default of all other -means of conveyance for goods and passengers, Davy -Lidgitt, the carrier, traversed the ten miles of distance -between the village and market-town "every -Wednesday and Saturday—twice a week, regular," -as the inscription read on the front of his neat tilted -cart; for your new-fangled way of sticking the carrier's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span> -name on one side of his vehicle had not then -been invented by the tax-making gentry at head-quarters.</p> - -<p>Davy Lidgitt was excelled in diligence and punctuality -by never a carrier, even in those diligent and -punctual times, and gained the universal respect of -his employers, and, what was of more solid value, a -neat little independence, to boot, as the reward of -his life of industry and uprightness. Davy,—it -should be "Old Davy;" for that was the name by -which he was known for the greater part of his -public life,—Old Davy would have felt himself to -be a happy man could he have regarded young Davy, -his son, as one who was likely to tread, morally as -well as physically, in his steps. But Old Davy Lidgitt, -like all other mortals, lacked the single ingredient -in his cup which could give it the power of -making his bliss complete on this side the grave.</p> - -<p>Not that young Davy was idle, or profligate, or -devoid of wit, according to some people's acceptation -of the term. In fact, the majority of the plain villagers -of Long Ludforth agreed that, "if aught, young -Davy Lidgitt had ower much wit for one of his -calling." And, for activity, few could match young -Davy. From a mere child he aspired to wield his -father's long whip, and at ten years old could manage -the brown mare and the black horse that composed -the carrier's team as well as Old Davy himself -could manage them. Moreover, he was always to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span> -found about the cart or the stable, at the market-town, -when the goods were delivered, and could -never be tempted to spend either his time, health, or -money at the ale-tap. Up to the age of five-and-twenty,—when -Old Davy, at sixty, fully retired to -enjoy the brief remnant of life in the snug but small -cottage he had purchased,—young Davy had not -failed to accompany his father as regularly as Wednesday -and Saturday returned in each week to Louth -and back, attending so rigidly and cleverly to every -item of parcel and package, letter and message, that -the villagers would one and all declare "young Davy -Lidgitt had a head like an almanack!"</p> - -<p>"Why, what in the world, then, could it be," you -will ask, "that caused old Davy to look upon a lad, -with his son's commendations, in the light of disparagement?" -If the truth must be told, we must -begin at the beginning. Young Davy showed sundry -symptoms of a disposition that his father did not like, -even when a child: he would hook the gears one day -in one mode and another day in another, often to the -provocation of some such harsh exclamation on the -part of the senior Lidgitt, as—"'Od rabbet thee! -thou'st been at thy kickshaw tricks again, with the -old mare's belly-band: she'll be kicking thy busy -brains out some of these days!" And many a kick, -to say troth, young Davy received for these "kickshaw" -tricks: but he persevered, with the belief that -the way of harnessing a cart-horse might be improved.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span> -Yet his father could never discern that either in this -or any other of his displays of genius, such as -clipping or tying the manes of the horses in whimsical -forms, or hanging their collars, and halters, and -so forth, in "apple-pie order," as the old man called it, -in the home stable—I say, old Davy could never -arrive at the conclusion that young Davy, in any of -these intended "improvements" ever effected a real -one.</p> - -<p>"But, Lord love thee, Davy!" Betty Lidgitt -would usually say, when her spouse had been relating -his boy's latest whim, in her ears, at supper-time,—"Lord -love thee, Davy, he's only a child; and thou -knaws childer will be childer: one can't set old heads -upo' young shouthers: he'll give over with his -meagrims when he grows older: thou wants patientness, -Davy,—patientness! Thou knaws I tell'd thee -so, before we were married!"</p> - -<p>These pleasant motherly excuses for the lad quieted -the father for some years; but, one day, when the -young "Reformer" had proceeded so far as to take -away the horse-shoe from the door-jamb,—that mystic -surety of good luck to the cottage by the opinions -of every inhabitant of Long Ludforth, and which the -parson had never said was wrong,—old Davy could -forbear no longer to put into execution a resolve that -had been for some months forming in his mind.</p> - -<p>"Betty! I'll take him to Wise Tom, and have his -planet ruled!" said he, "for I feel sartain and sewer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span> -some'at isn't right about the lad: he's the very devil -for mischief! Lord ha' marcy on us, if the young -varment hasn't tucken the horse-shoe away now! -some'at will be happening us I'm sewer!"</p> - -<p>And, on the following Monday morning, when his -team had rested a day after their usual Saturday's -travel, old Davy Lidgitt arose betimes, and, calling -up his son, set forth with him on the way to Welton, -to visit the astrologer.</p> - -<p>It will be long before the memory of old Tom Cussitt, -"the wise man of Welton," will be forgot in Lindsey. -"Cusworth" was his proper name, but old Lindsey -folk made it a rule to shorten folks' names when they -had to use them often, and there were few names -more frequently in a peasant's mouth, at that time of -the day, for twenty miles round Louth, than that of -"Tom Cussitt." Good Lord! if one were to tell all -the stories one has heard of his discoveries of stolen -goods by the stars; of the marks he was wont to put -on the thieves, that the owners of the goods might -know the rogues when they saw 'em; of the wondrous -way in which he could show a love-sick maiden her -future husband in the old-fashioned witch-looking -mirror that hung in his darkened room; and of the -strange facts he foretold to some people, when he -"cast their nativities,"—that mystic process in -which he never erred a hair's breadth,—why, it -would take a twelvemonth to go through the labour! -But, to attend to old and young Davy. It was but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> -half-a-dozen miles from Long Ludforth to Welton, -and so they and their little team were soon there.</p> - -<p>Young Davy, it may be guessed, gazed hard at the -"Wise Man," and thought him an awful-looking -personage, though Tom Cussitt was, at that time of -day, a somewhat handsome-looking man. His fine -clear blue eye was not, as yet, overhung with those -bushy, unsightly brows that marked him in old age; -his fair, ruddy skin was not, as yet, disfigured and -concealed by the filthy long gray beard he afterwards -wore; nor had his fine manly height yet contracted -a stoop. Old Davy had often seen Wise Tom before, -having frequently conveyed customers to his cottage, -and therefore he did not stare at him with wonder or -surprise, like the lad. As for Tom, he, of course, -stared at neither father nor son, being quite prepared, -like Sidrophel, to say to every comer—</p> - - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">"I did expect you here, and knew,</div> -<div class="i0">Before you spake, your business, too."</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - - -<p>Not that Tom Cussitt was one of your ordinary -conjurers,—your mere schemers who take up the -trade to scrape a shilling from the gulls among mankind. -Many a rich man has gone from Tom's door -without being able, although he proffered pounds to -the star-gazer, to obtain one syllable from him in -solution of the great problem of futurity which the -rich man desired so much to know. Nor did Tom -usually set about the process of solving a "horary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span> -question," or "telling a fortune," with the imposing -forms of books and almanacks. On some special -occasions he would resort, like other clerks of the -starry craft, to these learned appearances; but, more -customarily, a single strong pithy remark, or two, -delivered over his pipe, and in the course of a general -conversation in which he engaged his visitors, comprised -the gist of his prophecy respecting the future -life of an inquirer, or of his direction for the recovery -of stolen goods or chattels. Whatever might -be the wise man's own confidence in the rules of -prognostication by the stars, every shrewd observer -noted that the prophet delivered his oracles rather by -the gauge and admeasurement which his strong common -sense enabled him to form of human character, -and the accuracy by which it enabled him to judge -of circumstances, than by any exercise of mathematical -or other description of learned skill.</p> - -<p>Old Davy was too full with the budget of young -Davy's vagaries to need much craft on the part of one -who wished to draw him out. The Wise Man quickly -kenned what kind of stuff the young chap was made -of, and did not feel that it required any great exercise -of his wisdom to ken it, either. Old Davy, however, -with all his fears for the lad's capricious inclinations, -and their probable consequences when he himself -might be lain in the grave, was scarcely prepared for -the stunning severity of the single definitive sentence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span> -wherewith Wise Tom summed up his prophecy of -young Davy's "fortune."</p> - -<p>"Well, then, Maister Cussitt," said Davy the elder, -taking his pipe from his mouth, after the lapse of an -hour's chat, "and so what do you think of him? -I've tell'd you the day, I'm sewer, quite exact; and -I've told you the hour at which Betty brought him -into the world, as near as I can remember."</p> - -<p>"Reach us a spell, my lad!" said Cussitt to the -younger Davy, and pointed to a neat wire case that -hung against the wall, and contained long strips of -paper wrapped up for pipe-lighters.</p> - -<p>"You'll want two," said the very sharp lad, "for -my fayther's pipe's out, an' all!"</p> - -<p>"Is it, lad?" said old Davy, looking eagerly into -the head of his pipe. "Lord! what eyes thou hast! -there's nothing can 'scape thee, I declare!" And he -chuckled with pleasure at his boy's acuteness.</p> - -<p>"And so what think you, then," he asked again—"what -think you, Maister Cussitt, will be our Davy's -luck?"</p> - -<p>Young Davy had just lighted the two spells, had -held them to the pipes, severally, and had thrown -the papers, neither of them half consumed, upon -the fire.</p> - -<p>"Think!" exclaimed the wise man, eyeing the -youngster fiercely, and glancing at the father with -a look that seemed to ask if there was now any need -to tell what he thought—"think!" said he; "why,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> -that he'll bring his ninepence to nought!" And he -thrust his middle finger into the pipe-head to put -out the fire in the tobacco, and placed the pipe, -sternly, on the mantle-piece.</p> - -<p>Old Davy's face fell; and he also laid down his -pipe. Tom Cussitt took his large-skirted hat from -the peg, called to his maid for the milking-kit, and -prepared, according to his wont, to go forth and milk -his cows; for he followed husbandry in humble and -industrious style during the greater part of his life, -notwithstanding his astrological profession. "Good -morning, Davy Lidgitt!" he said; and left father -and son, alike wonder-stricken, by the fire-side.</p> - -<p>There, however, they did not remain many minutes, -but were on their way to Ludforth; and a -melancholy way it seemed to old Davy. Betty Lidgitt -felt as melancholy as her husband when he had -related Tom Cussitt's laconic prophecy. Yet she -strove to comfort her spouse with the encouraging -remembrance, that "the Wise Man had not said -much; and, for the little that he did say, why, -belike, it was meant more for caution than aught -worse." Old Davy was willing to think so, but -could not succeed in persuading himself of it; and, -indeed, young Davy showed "too much of the cloven -foot," as his father somewhat sourly said, at times, -"to lead a body to think that the imp of mischief -would ever leave him;" so that, to his dying day, -poor old Davy would, ever and anon, sigh over his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> -remembrance of Tom Cussitt's short but sorrowfully -significant saying.</p> - -<p>The story would become tiresome by going over -the catalogue of a thousandth part of young Davy -Lidgitt's doings in the "improving way," during the -dozen years that intervened between the visit to the -Wise man of Welton and old Davy's retirement from -business as a carrier. Nor is it needful to chronicle -similar deeds of the son that occurred from that -period to the day of the father's death,—though -some of these latter sorely harassed the old man's -temper,—especially young Davy's purchase of -coloured collars for the horses, and a fancy tilt, that -cost thrice the price of the old one, and let in the -rain! It was when old Davy was "safe under the -sod," as the sexton said when he had finished the -covering of his grave, and clapped it soundly with -his spade in token of admiration for his own work,—it -was then that young Davy began to let all the world -in Long Ludforth see there was a man amongst them -that possessed brains.</p> - -<p>First, the "reformer" pulled down his father's low -cottage, and engaged a swaggering builder to erect a -tall four-storied house of brick, with a slated roof, on -the same spot, taking in the little spot that had -glowed so delightfully for many a year with roses, -and pansies, and marigolds. True, the purse of two -hundred spade-aces, left by his economical parent, -did not suffice to finish the house in the style he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> -devised; so he warned the bricklayer to stop at three -stories, and to leave out some of the fantastic stone -ornaments he had procured at Louth. He sold the -ornaments and some of the other extra materials which -had already been brought upon his premises; but he -permitted a tradesman to take them on credit, and -was never paid for them. Then, finding the house -was likely to remain unroofed for lack of money, he -was constrained to go a-borrowing; but the errand -and the reception he met reminded him strongly of -one of his old father's sayings, which he used to think -very simple when the old man was alive,—"He -that goes a-borrowing goes a-sorrowing!"—but -young Davy did not think the proverb quite so simple, -now. The farmers shook their heads at him, -wherever he went, and said "No;" without a syllable -of preface or addenda. And as for the monied men -at Louth, they had all taken their gauge of young -Davy Lidgitt, as well as the Wise Man of Welton; -and the "man of improvements" could only borrow -on a hard mortgage.</p> - -<p>"And who are you to put into this new house -when it is finished, <i>Mister</i> Lidgitt?" asked Grumley, -the grocer, of Louth, very politely, one day, as he -was riding past, and saw young Davy standing by to -look at the builders.</p> - -<p>Young Davy looked foolish at the question; for, -having neither father nor mother, brother nor sister,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span> -in the world, he could only answer that he had no one -to put into it but himself.</p> - -<p>The grocer earnestly begged his company to dinner, -when he next came to Louth; and young Davy -felt so much flattered by so unusual an invitation, -that he instantly accepted it. And young Davy -found Mr. Grumley very cordial, and Mrs. Grumley -exceedingly kind,—but, above all, the <i>Misses</i> Grumley -were the most interesting creatures he had ever -seen! The eldest, especially, won his respect,—or, -he did not exactly know what to call it,—for he -had thought more about improvements in horses, -and carts, and stables, and houses, than aught else, -all his life. But the eldest Miss—<i>the</i> Miss Grumley, -by emphasis of courtesy—talked so sensibly -about the clever improvements that young Mr. -Brown had made in his farm-house, at Raithby, now -his father was dead; and how he had married Miss -Green, the chandler's daughter, and had bought such -a nice gig!</p> - -<p>To tell the reader at once, what he plainly sees -is about coming to pass, young <i>Mister</i> Davy Lidgitt -married <i>Miss</i> Grumley; and he also bought a -nice gig—but it was bought on credit!</p> - -<p>Proceeding with his "reforms" and "improvements," -Davy turned <i>daily</i> carrier from Long Ludforth -to Louth, in a smart, light van, having disposed -of his father's old cart. But now young Davy began -<i>to think</i>,—not willingly, but perforce,—for bills<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> -were pouring in upon him that he could not pay. -But Mr. Grumley was ready to <i>join in a note</i>, since -young Davy had already performed that kindness, -more than once, for his father-in-law. Still young -Davy was compelled to think; for, more than once, -his grand <i>daily</i> trip in the new van to Louth did not -afford freightage enough to cover the expense of the -two toll-gates which "improvement" had set up -between Long Ludforth and Louth market-place. -So Davy fell off to "every other day" as a carrier. -This was his first retrograde "reform," but, alas! it -was not his last.</p> - -<p>Expenses daily became heavier. Mrs. Lidgitt was -gay when a grocer's daughter in a market town; -but she felt it requisite and becoming to "take the -lead" in dress, since her settlement in a village, -where the affair, too, was so comparatively easy. And -then, in the course of two years, two little Lidgitts -were squalling about the house; and, in addition to -one regular maid-servant, and an occasional help from -a stable-boy, a nurse was introduced as a constant -member of Davy's household establishment.</p> - -<p>The visit of a lawyer, one day, put the family into -a flutter. Davy was taken aside, and informed that -Mr. So-and-so had resolved to call in his mortgage. -Davy's heart sunk, until he thought he must have -dropped; but how overjoyed he became when Lawyer -Gripple so cheerfully offered himself as mortgagee to -succeed his client Mr. So-and-so! Yet, when the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span> -new mortgage-deed was completed, Davy found himself, -somehow or other, a hundred pounds more in -debt for his house than before!</p> - -<p>Young Davy Lidgitt now began to <i>think</i> more -deeply, and proposed some curtailments of weekly -expenditure to his wife; but she wept so passionately -at the mention of them, that Davy's heart smote him -for his cruelty. Then he tried to resolve on lessening -his own "appearances;" but pride gat the better of -him, and he dashed along, till at the end of one more -year, Lawyer Gripple suddenly "called in his money," -and followed up the call ere Davy could answer it, or -procure another friend, by taking possession of Davy's -house, and telling him that thenceforth he ceased to -be any thing but a tenant, and for that title must pay -him—Lawyer Gripple—twenty pounds a-year.</p> - -<p>Before Davy could recover his surprise at this -rapacious deed, Mr. Grumley failed in very heavy -responsibilities, with very small assets, and young -Davy was sent to prison for the debts to which he -had pledged himself on account of his father-in-law.</p> - -<p>To end a sorrowful story as speedily as possible, it -remains but to say, that when poor Davy got out of -gaol he found his wife and her children nearly starving -and in rags, and living in a scanty, down-coming -cottage, not half the size of that wherein his father and -mother had lived so many years in contentment and -prosperity—his house was not only entirely gone, but -his van and horses were sold, and his business had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> -passed, months before, into the hands of an industrious -stranger.</p> - -<p>Penniless, sick, and wretched, poor Davy Lidgitt -was compelled to apply to the parish for bread, and -he had no alternative but to obey their direction, and -break stones on the road!</p> - -<p>He was beheld in that employ for many years -after—a fallen, broken-spirited man;—and often -would the aged women observe to each other,—as -they passed him by to work in the fields, and remembered -Tom Cussitt's prophecy, to which Davy's father -would so often recur in his neighbours' hearing,—"So -much for the man who hath brought his ninepence -to nought!"</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>THE FISHERMAN AND THE FIDDLER;<br /> -<span class="small">OR,<br /> -"DON'T SAY SO TILL YOU ARE SURE."</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>It is a long day since Zed Marrowby and Phil Garrett -passed quietly away from this wilderness of confusion -and wrong, and their names are well-nigh -forgotten. But they were, each of them, so unlike -other folk in their way of life, and in their old-fashioned -habits of thinking and talking, that there -is no wonder they have slipped out of the world's -memory as well as out of the world itself. Two odd -old fellows they were deemed for many a year, albeit -there are few happier old fellows, upon the whole, -than they were. And who were they?</p> - -<p>Zed was an humble fishermen on the Trent, and -never knew what it was to be possessed, at once, of -twenty shillings in his life. His father was called -Zedekiah, but the son never reached that long-name -dignity. Zed was taught the art and mystery of -fishing with an angle, fishing with set lines and hooks, -fishing with nets—in brief, all kinds of fresh-water<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> -fishing, when a boy, by his father,—whose father and -grandfather before him were each and all fishermen. -Zed was a bachelor all his life long, and that means -fourscore and five; and Zed never had but one bosom-friend, -and that was blind Phil Garrett the fiddler.</p> - -<p>Phil could not trace his ancestry in an uninterrupted -line for several generations like his friend Zed. -In fact, it may seem strange to a world so wise as the -world is now-a-days, but Phil Garrett never knew -who was his own father! His earliest recollections -were of hard usage by all around him save his mother, -who herself died of hard usage, and left him to the -ruthless world, a blind orphan at a tender age. There -was as great doubt about Phil's true Christian name as -there was about his parentage: some said it was -Philip, and others said it ought to be Philander; -here and there one contended it must be Philibert, -while his godmother, Abigail, inclined to believe it -was Philemon, but even she could not justly remember—for, -as she used to say, "the parson quite -took away her recollection of it, by hemming and -hawing, and being so long about the trifling matter -of sprinking the child—and all the while she was -pretty sartain the christening-cake would be burnt -under the wood-ashes, for she made it herself, and -placed it under the dish at the last moment, in order -that it might not be spoilt while they were at church." -However, Phil contrived to teach himself to play on -the fiddle when a boy, and thereby managed to win<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> -his own living, without ever seeing the sun, or knowing -exactly, either his own name, or the name of his -father.</p> - -<p>Zed and Phil were nearly of an age, and became -attached to each other when they were in their teens: -indeed, from that period of life they were inseparable, -except on special occasions. It was a singular companionship, -was that of Zed Marrowby, the fisherman, -and blind Phil Garrett, the fiddler. As soon as day -broke, through spring, summer, and autumn, Zed -might be seen wending his way among the osiers, on -the banks of old Trent, towards his small narrow -boat; and blind Phil, with his fiddle-case under his -arm, might be seen leaning on Zed's left shoulder, and -hurrying along with him. No matter how heavily it -rained, or strongly it blew, the two happy old -fellows were as constant in their time of rising, and -of their embarkation, as the sun was in mounting -above the east, unless Phil happened to be engaged -for a wedding or a wake, for the blind fiddler was in -high request for all the rustic rejoicings around -Torksey, where the singular companions lived—I -mean, at Marton, and Sturton, and Fenton, and Newton, -on the Lincolnshire side of the Trent; and not less -at Laneham, and Dunham, and Drayton, and Rampton, -and Leverton, on the side of merry Nottinghamshire.</p> - -<p>Winter, you would say, would be but a dreary -season for the two old cronies, since it would put a -stop to their voyaging, and, by confining them within<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span> -doors, would make them impish and melancholy. -But you are wrong, if you say so. There were nets -and lines to make and to mend, and the past to -recount, and the future to reckon upon; and Phil would -play on his fiddle while Zed would sing, and when -Phil's arm was weary with scraping, and Zed's throat -was sore with piping, Zed would listen till he fell -asleep with Phil telling ghost-stories and fairy-tales, -and love-ditties and robber-ventures,—all of which he -had learned from his godmother, old Abigail Cullsimple, -at once the most famous herb-woman, midwife, -and tale-teller, in her own day and generation, for -threescore miles round about ancient Torksey on the -Trent,—nay, it were perilous to assert that she ever -had an equal, in these three combined qualifications, -throughout the whole region of Lindsey.</p> - -<p>It would take some thousands of pages to narrate -half the adventures in rain and fair weather, of the -fisherman and fiddler, during their threescore years of -friendship. Let it suffice to take up their life-story -for some two or three days of the last summer they -spent together in this world, commencing with a -fine morning in which they unmoored their little boat -somewhat earlier than usual, in order to reach Littleborough -for a wedding, before the turn of the tide. -The morning was such a delicious one, that, old as -they were, the two old voyagers could not restrain their -feeling of pleasure at the balmy and refreshing effect -it had upon their weather-beaten frames; and, blind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> -as poor Phil was, you could not have failed, had you -seen his expressive face when under very pleasurable -emotion, to discern that it scarcely needs the language -of eyes to demonstrate the heart's happiness. Their -little skiff darted like a fowl along the stream, so -finely did opening nature seem to nerve the old men's -arms, and puff their little sail; the very fishes seemed -scarcely to have time to take alarm while the oars -plashed amid the liquid silver, but darted and gambolled -after each other,—the rapid dace and the -delicate bleak, and the golden-finned perch,—every -moment to the surface of the stream, exulting, as it -seemed, in the solar glory. It was a morning to fill with -music every human soul that has any music in itself. -The sweet matin lute of the lark thrilled through the -heavens, and the still sweeter voice of the blythe milk-maid, -as she tripped it, fresh and rosy, over the lea, -was heard waking the echoes with her plaintive love-melody. -Zed and Phil were too true children of -Nature to disobey her influences, and thus chanted -their hearts' sedate joy, as they bent at the oar:—</p> - - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">"Merrily we go, my man—</div> -<div class="i2">Merrily with the tide!</div> -<div class="i0">Catch the breezes while you can—</div> -<div class="i2">Here we'll not abide!</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Storm and calm will soon be o'er—</div> -<div class="i2">Spread the flowing sail!</div> -<div class="i0">Lift thy heart with sorrow sore—</div> -<div class="i2">Catch the fav'ring gale!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Wouldst thou weep till set of sun—</div> -<div class="i2">From the break of day?</div> -<div class="i0">This life's stream will soon be run—</div> -<div class="i2">Laugh, then, while you may!</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Mariners in life's frail boat—</div> -<div class="i2">Sighs and tears are vain!</div> -<div class="i0">Cheerily let's onward float—</div> -<div class="i2">Soon the port we'll gain!</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Merrily we go, my man—</div> -<div class="i2">Merrily with the tide!</div> -<div class="i0">Catch the breezes while you can—</div> -<div class="i2">Merrily onward glide!"</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - - -<p>Again and again they doubled the last verse, those -brave old voyagers! until many a milk-maid came up -the banks of Trent, leaving her cows on the lea, to -listen more nearly to the merry song they had so often -heard before from the two quaint companions of the -fishing-boat.</p> - -<p>The little ferry of Littleborough was at length -gained, and Zed leaped as gaily on shore as if he -were yet in his youth, and then handed Phil out, -with his fiddle-case under his arm; and when the -skiff was moored, away they hasted to the "Ferry -Boat Inn," as the humble public-house was loftily -termed, and where the intended wedding and merry-making -was about to be held. After half-a-dozen -hearty gripes of the hand, and as many congratulations -on their good looks, the two old men were zealously -pressed to "eat and drink, and not spare,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> -by the bluff landlord. And, nothing loth, Zed and -Phil sat down on the long-settle, and made free with -a good hearty beef-steak pie, and a tankard of ale; -and the landlord was ready to fill again ere the latter -was fairly empty. "Don't ye be dainty about it, my -hearties," said he, "for the youngsters will be down-stairs -soon; they've been dressing this I don't know -how long; and you'll ha' plenty to do, I warrant ye, -when they happen to find that you're come: so do -justice to your fare!"</p> - -<p>And anon the bride that was to be was brought -down-stairs by a crowd of laughing lasses, and, blushing -like the May, was placed in a chair adorned with -flowers; and soon the lads burst in with the bridegroom, -all in best array of plush and velveteen; and -when he stepped up to the chaired beauty for a morning's -buss, the lads pulled him away and said "nay;" -and then all clapped their hands with delight when -they first saw Zed and Phil in the corner, and all -shouted, as if they were mad, for a good thumping -ditty that would put mettle in their heels. So Phil -struck up first "Malbrook's gone to battle," and then -"Gee-ho, Dobbin," and then "Grist the Miller," -and then "She will and she won't," and then, -"Nelly is gone to be married;" and each lad took -his lass, and led up or followed the dance to the capers -of Phil's bow, till "The parson's come!" resounded -through the kitchen; and the marriage-procession -was immediately formed, and the kitchen was deserted,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> -for even Zed and Phil went off, the one -to see, and the other to hear, lovely Polly of the -Ferry-Boat Inn given away to sprightly and honest -young farmer Brown that morning, at the neighbouring -parish church of Sturton-le-Steeple.</p> - -<p>The ceremony over, and the kitchen regained, feasting, -fun, and frolic, were the order of the day. Phil's -fiddle and Zed's throat were worked till the owners of -them could scarcely work longer; and oh, the tales -that Phil told, and the songs that Zed sung, in the -course of that merry wedding-day! why, the like of -'em could not be said or sung by man or maid, wife -or widow, within all Christendom!</p> - -<p>Don't imagine, either, that the fun and frolic were -partaken of merely by the younkers: let me tell you, -that even the fat landlord himself, although verging -on fourscore, caught so much of the spirit of the -time, that he jumped up, all of a sudden, after watching -the nodding head and smirking face of Dame -Dinah Brown, the grandmother of the bridegroom, -and discerning how she began to fidget, like himself,—I -say he jumped up all of a sudden, and, seizing -her hand, whirled her away, not in the least unwilling, -to show the young lads and lasses that they -had not forgotten a quick step, and all that, as old as -they were. And, by Jingo! how all-alive did Phil -look, while he screwed up his catgut for a new -strain; and never was any thing seen in mortal man -more wonderful than the ecstatic changes of his blind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span> -face, while he struck up "Green leaves all grow sere!" -as an accompaniment to the frisking feet of Dame -Dinah and the fat old landlord. And then he changed -the strain for one of rich merriment, while his sightless -and strangely expressive countenance depicted -every shade of wild and wilder glee, and vibrated -throughout its whole surface with every thrill of the -melody and gambol of the bow; insomuch that more -than one youth forgot every thing around, and stood -gazing at Phil's face, thinking they would never -forget how it looked, if they lived even to be as old -as Methusaleh.</p> - -<p>On and on the aged dancers skipped, and "crossed" -and "set," looking as gleeful as if they had never -known what it was to be grave, until, streaming -with sweat, and fairly wearied out with the mad employment -they had been giving their heels, and to -which they had been strangers for many a long year, -they were constrained to sit down, avowing, meanwhile, -that "they only wished they were young -again, for then they would show the youngsters -what a bit o' dancing was in their time!"</p> - -<p>When the sun had set, Zed began to feel some -degree of uneasiness to be gone. There was the -Trent to voyage, for at least three miles, in order -to reach their home at Torksey, and Zed knew the -stream would be somewhat swollen, but much more -he feared the state of his own upper story, since he -had not been able to resist the pressing invitations<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span> -and challenges, first of one and then of another, and, -consequently, his potations had been somewhat numerous. -Having given Phil the hint, Phil began -to complain of exhaustion as to his tale-budget, and -of the power of his nerves to direct the bow; but it -was long ere this would avail, and many a roaring -ditty was launched forth from the thunder of Phil's -catgut, amid the thundering heels of the country -lads and lasses, before the two aged cronies could -manage to obtain leave, once more, to launch their -little boat, and strike off for home. The farewell -chords were at last struck, the fiddle was boxed; -and, accompanied to the water's edge by a merry -company, Zed and Phil pushed off from shore amidst -the hearty cheers of the merry-makers. Then, each -taking his oar, as usual, away they went with the -tide, that now swept up the river's course.</p> - -<p>Much as they had sung that merry day, the two -brave old fellows, nevertheless, trolled forth more -than one ditty before they reached Torksey; and -neither of them suffered any depression of spirits or -strength as they prosecuted their homeward voyage. -Zed Marrowby, especially—and, in good faith his -alacrity must be fairly confessed to have owed its -greater intensity to his most frequent potations—Zed, -especially, sprung on shore with the nimbleness of a -lad of twenty, as soon as they arrived in front of the -ruins of old Torksey castle, which stands like a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span> -blighted, and yet beautiful thing of the past, beside -the very brink of the noble stream.</p> - -<p>"As sure as a gun, Phil," cried the mellow old -fellow, stamping with vehemence, as he was leading -Phil under a propped fragment of the old fabric, -"we'll not go to bed to-night till we've seen whether -there be any gold in these vaults, as the story goes! -I've heard you tell the tale about folks hiding their -coin here, in the time of bloody Oliver, until my -patience is worn out. I'm determined, Phil, to -know whether any money can be found here, or not!"</p> - -<p>"Why, zowks, Zed!" exclaimed Phil Garrett, -"you're not so mad with that glass o' rum they gave -you before you pushed off as to have taken it into -your head to——"</p> - -<p>"Don't bother me, Phil!" said the fisherman in a -pet, "I'm determined to fish up the gold out of -these old vaults before midnight, as late as it is, and -that's the long and short on't!"</p> - -<p>"'Don't say so till you're sure!'" cried Phil, uttering -an old saying that he was very fond of; "how will -you dig up the gold, Zed? you have never a shovel -nor a pick-axe, you know."</p> - -<p>"Then I'll soon have both," replied Zed; "you -sit down here on this stone, Phil, and I'll go and -slive into the Talbot yard, and I'll warrant it I'll -soon have a pick-axe and a shovel." And off Zed -scampered as fast as his old heels, impelled by his -heated head, could carry him.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span></p> - -<p>"Bring the dark lanthorn with you!" cried Phil, -shouting after him as loudly as he dared to shout; -and then, sitting down on the grass in lieu of the -hard stone, began to think of the oddness and suddenness -of Zed's resolution. "What a fool Zed -always becomes when he gets a drop of rum!" thought -Phil to himself; "and, confound it! I feel queerish, -somehow, myself. I wish I had not drunk that tipler -o'rum. It was very foolish of me, for I always tell -Zed to stick to good old Sir John Barleycorn, and -then no great harm can come on it. But what's the -use of grumbling and growling at one's self when it's -done? I'll e'en make the best on't, since it is so." -And Phil was about to troll forth another merry -ditty, when he remembered that it was near midnight, -that it must be thereabouts pitch dark, and -that he was among the ruins of Torksey Castle, -where, according to a queer skin-freezing story he -was wont to tell himself, the lady without the head -was often seen to walk at midnight! So Phil, too -muddled to remember that he could not have seen -the headless lady if she had appeared, held his peace, -and thought it was better to keep quiet in such a -queer place and at such a queer time of night.</p> - -<p>Phil had not long to wait for the return of his -eccentric companion. Zed soon was at Phil's side, -and, grasping his hand, assured him they would soon -be as rich as Jews with the buried gold.</p> - -<p>"'Don't say so till you're sure!'" again cried Phil:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span> -but Zed took no notice of it, and upheaving the pick-axe, -without spending a moment in considering -whereabouts he ought to begin, struck at the ground -with all his might, assisted, not a little, at the first, -by his invisible but potent friend, Dr. Alcohol.</p> - -<p>"Have you begun so soon, Zed?" asked Phil.</p> - -<p>"Ay, to be sure," replied Zed, "I'm in earnest, -man, and mean to have this gold, depend on't."</p> - -<p>"I'faith, it seems as though you did," returned -Phil, feeling disposed to roast his old friend, as they -say; "do you find aught yet?"</p> - -<p>"Pooh!" answered Zed, "let me get another foot -or so deeper, and then ask me."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'm in no hurry," said Phil; "only I thought -I might as well be knowing. But are you tired so -soon, Zed?"</p> - -<p>"I'm only just resting a moment," replied Zed; -but he was up, and was working away again with -the pick-axe the next minute. Then he took the -shovel and began to clear away the loose earth, so as -to be able to see, by the light of the lanthorn, how -deeply he had penetrated the ground.</p> - -<p>"Do you see aught yet?" asked Phil with a -slight titter which he suppressed as well as he could.</p> - -<p>"Don't be in such a confounded hurry! I didn't -think a bit o'gold would ha' made you so covetous to -get at it!" answered Zed, throwing down the pick-axe, -and pretending to be in a pet, though, in reality, -it was the tremendous ache in his back that caused<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> -him to throw down an instrument of labour to which -his aged hands were quite unused.</p> - -<p>"Nay, nay, I tell you, I'm in no hurry at all," -again retorted Phil; "only, as I said before, I -thought I might as well be knowing."</p> - -<p>"All right, Phil!" cried Zed, in a twinkling of -time, "here goes again!" and struck more savagely -at the ground this time than ever; for, in spite of his -affected coolness, the old fisherman began to feel very -impatient. In the course of a very few minutes, -however, Zed was again unable, from sheer weariness, -to proceed, and, although he changed his implement -again for the spade, yet his back ached too violently -for him to go on with his gold-finding, so he sat -down once more to rest, and wiped the streaming -perspiration from his aged face with a hand that -trembled, as indeed he trembled all over, like an aspen -leaf.</p> - -<p>"Mercy on us!" cried Phil, "how you puff and -blow, Zed! Do you begin to feel ill with your hard -work?"</p> - -<p>"Pshaw! how old-womanish you talk!" retorted -the fisherman, and started up again, like a young -blood of four-and-twenty. But, somehow or other, -Zed found it quite impossible to get on, the ache in -his old back was so violent.</p> - -<p>"I say, Phil," he said, pausing suddenly, and looking -very cunning at the fiddler,—though the fiddler -could not see either the sly wink of his eye or any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span> -other of the signs by which the old fisherman intended -it to be understood that a very shrewd thought had -struck him,—"I say, Phil, what d'ye suppose I'm -just now thinking about?"</p> - -<p>"Can't tell exactly," replied Phil, though he had -a somewhat knowing idea of what was coming, for -all that.</p> - -<p>"Why, I was thinking——Oh!" said the poor -old fisherman, feeling a twinge in his back so dreadfully -excruciating that it forced him to cry out before -he was aware—</p> - -<p>"What! have you found the gold?" asked Phil, -bursting into a titter; "have you found it, Zed?"</p> - -<p>"Found the devil!" exclaimed Zed, growing really -ill-tempered at being thus coolly roasted by his old -companion.</p> - -<p>"For Heaven's sake, take care, Zed; or we <i>may</i> -find him, with a witness, in this queer place, and at -this queer time o'night!" rejoined the fiddler; "but -what may you be thinking about, after all, Zed?"</p> - -<p>"Why, I was thinking we might cover up this -hole, so that no notice would be taken of it, and then -come and finish the job another time," replied Zed, -who felt so much ashamed of what pain compelled -him to say, that he could with difficulty get through -his speech.</p> - -<p>"Come, now, sit you down a bit, Zed," said Phil, -in a tone of hearty kindness, that always came over -Zed's more boisterous nature with the power of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> -sweet lull after a squall,—"sit you down a bit, and -let's have a bit o'talk, while you rest yourself, for -I'm sure your old bones must ache with pain and -weariness. Now, I say, Zed, just tell me, will you, -what would you do with this gold if you found it?"</p> - -<p>"Do with it!" exclaimed Zed, staring at the fiddler, -though the fiddler could not stare at him; "what -would I do with it, Phil?"</p> - -<p>"Ay, what would you do with it? Are you -tired of the old boat, after we've cruised in her so -many long years?"</p> - -<p>"Tired of her! God forbid!" answered Zed, with -warmth rendered ludicrous by his insobriety; "no, -Phil! you and I will never forsake the old boat until -our own poor old timbers fall fairly in pieces!"</p> - -<p>"I thought you could not be thinking about that," -said Phil; "but what, then, I say, Zed,—what -could you contrive to do with this gold, if you found -it?"</p> - -<p>"We could comfort the hearts of poor Dick Toller's -motherless and fatherless children, and poor Bob -Wilson's and Joe Martin's widows with it, you know, -Phil," answered the old fisherman.</p> - -<p>"God bless your old heart, Zed!" cried Phil, -grasping his old comrade's hand, while his voice -faltered with deep emotion, "that's spoken just like -you! But I tell you, Zed, it is but a wild scheme to -be killing yourself with trying to find this gold."</p> - -<p>"To speak truth," said Zed, interrupting the other,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> -"I begin to think so, too: only, you see, Phil, this -old head o'mine always turns so wild when I happen -to be such a fool as to take rum when they offer it -me. As you always say, Phil, if one could but have -the resolution to stick to Sir John Barleycorn instead -of——"</p> - -<p>"Well, well, Zed, say no more about it," said -Phil, remembering that the transgression was not -entirely confined to his friend; "shovel in the moulds -as soon as you can, and let us be making our way -home, for yon's twelve by the church clock, and we -mustn't be after sunrise, you know, to-morrow; -'twill be bad luck if we be, depend on't."</p> - -<p>So Zed shovelled in the earth as fast as his aches -and pains would permit him; and at length Phil -threw the pick-axe over his shoulder, and Zed bearing -the fiddle-box, and shovel, and lanthorn, without -spending more time in talking, they hied them home -as nimbly as they could, dropping the pick-axe and -shovel over the Talbot yard wall as they went by, -and speedily throwing themselves on their joint bed, -when they had reached it, fell asleep almost in a -moment.</p> - -<p>Before the sun arose, however, they were up and -in the open air; but Zed groaned heavily, more than -once, as they went along towards the Trent bank, -for his aged bones were very stiff at the joints, as he -said, and he often called himself a fool, inwardly, as -he thought of his wild, money-digging freak of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span> -preceding night. His melancholy, however, was but -transitory. The merry-hearted old men were soon -on their favourite element; the sun began to throw -its cheering beams once more upon the rippling -waters; and, as the willows on the banks of the noble -Trent waved in the gentle breeze, and the rich -meadows on the border of the river sent forth their -reviving fragrance, Zed lifted up his head, while his -hand plied the oar, and in the fulness of a happy -heart thus opened the conversation for the day:—</p> - -<p>"Well, I wouldn't change places with the king -on his throne, Phil; I don't believe there's a happier -pair than you and I, Phil, in the wide world. -And yet, now, as wild a scheme as that was of mine -last night, I cannot help wishing, this morning, that -we had some o' that gold at this moment. I could -like to try my hand, Phil, as old and inexperienced -as it is in such work, at making some part of the -world happier."</p> - -<p>"And so could I, Zed," said Phil; "and now -don't you think that my godmother's grandfather's -plan of dividing the land would be a good one, and -tend to make the world happier, if it were carried -into effect?"</p> - -<p>"The deuce is in you, Phil, for always bringing -up that plan of your godmother's grandfather!" said -old Zed; "why, the plan may be good enough, -Phil; but how can it be brought about?"</p> - -<p>"How can you get the gold?" retorted Phil.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span></p> - -<p>"Good!" said Zed, with a hearty laugh; "i'faith, -Phil, one scheme is as likely to be brought about as -the other: but, take hold of that end o' the net, -Phil, for I see a famous pike or two, darting about; -and, you know, we must try to get something -to-day."</p> - -<p>The net was thrown out, but failed; and, what -was most unusual, the labour of Zed and Phil was -continued for several hours without the capture even -of a solitary eel. Phil often thought Zed threw out -the net very wildly, and imagined the liquor he took -at the wedding had not yet spent its effects on him; -but the blind man could not be sure, for Zed seemed -resolutely taciturn.</p> - -<p>'Twas about ten in the forenoon that Phil felt the -little boat was "brought up,"—he thought in an -inlet, or small creek, on the Lindsey side of the -Trent, after they had laboured with nets and lines -ever since a little after sunrise, and all without a -single instance of success.——</p> - -<p>"Phil, d'ye know why I've pulled in here this -morning?" said Zed, as he was mooring the skiff.</p> - -<p>"No, by'r leddy!" answered the old-fashioned -fiddler, "I can't tell, for the life of me! but it seems -to me that you've pulled in at Burton Folly,—have -you not, Zed? and what's the meaning of it?"</p> - -<p>"Look sharp, Phil!" said Zed, briskly helping -Phil out of the boat, "we've had hard luck in the -water this morning, but we'll try our luck on land<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> -for once: we'll have one or two of 'Squire Hutton's -pheasants before we leave the holt."</p> - -<p>"'Don't say so till you're sure!'" said Phil, for that -was a common saying with him, as I hinted before; -"I wish I could <i>look sharp</i>, as you bid me, Zed,—for -I'll be hanged if you are not tearing my poor -legs among the whins, like old pork, as the saying -goes."</p> - -<p>"The deuce I am!" exclaimed Zed, slackening his -pace; "I wouldn't hurt you, for all the world, Phil: -but you know it's worth while trying to catch a -pheasant or two,—they're such fine game."</p> - -<p>"I don't know, Zed," rejoined Phil, "whether it -be worth while or not: we may get into a scrape by -it, as old as we are, and——"</p> - -<p>"Pshaw!" cried Zed, with an air of resolute -contempt; "come along, Phil!—come along!"</p> - -<p>"O come along, ay!" said Phil; "I shall go -with you, if you go to the very devil!—but then I -don't see what's the use of going there, yet,—as old -'Squire Pimpleface used to say, when he gave up -playing cards at Saturday midnight, and refused, ever -after to play on Sunday mornings——"</p> - -<p>"Hush!" said Zed, stopping short,—"my eyes! -why, that must be the gamekeeper! No, it isn't:—but -we had better lie down, Phil."</p> - -<p>"Down be it then!" said Phil, prostrating himself -among the long grass, while the old fisherman followed -his example.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span></p> - -<p>"Now, tell me," continued the fiddler, in a whisper, -as they lay along among the grass, and the fisherman -was anxiously keeping the look-out,—"tell me how -you intend to catch the pheasants, Zed: you know -you've no gun; and you can't catch 'em with a net in -open day,—besides you haven't brought the net out -of the boat, have you?"</p> - -<p>"Pooh!" replied Zed, "why, I've heard my father -say that 'Squire Hutton's pheasants used to be as -tame as bantam cocks, even in his time. We may -catch 'em, bless your soul! ay, easily! And, if -not, I'm sure I could hit one and knock it down with -my hat."</p> - -<p>The blind fiddler burst into an uncontrollable fit of -laughter on hearing this artless declaration from his -ancient companion.</p> - -<p>"Zowks, Zed!" he exclaimed at last, "thou hast -got some wild maggots, for sure, into thy head this -morning! prythee look out again, and see if the -coast be clear; for the sooner we shove off in the -boat again the better, I'm very sartain."</p> - -<p>"Confound that fellow! he's coming this way," -said Zed, in a voice of alarm. And, indeed, there -now seemed to be cause for fear, seeing that a tall man, -with a gun on his shoulder, was hastening down the -hill, apparently in a direction towards the foolish -hiding-place of the fiddler and the fisherman.</p> - -<p>"What shall we do, Phil?" asked Zed, in the -next breath.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span></p> - -<p>"Cut and run!" cried Phil, and sprung up as -nimbly as a hare when you stumble upon her seat.</p> - -<p>"Come along, then!" said Zed; and, seizing his -blind companion by the hand, away they galloped, -as fast as their old limbs would wag down the declivity, -to the boat.</p> - -<p>Zed pushed Phil, head over heels, into the skiff, -and, jumping in himself, scudded away out of the -creek as fast as he could possibly "scull," or turn -the oar, at the boat's stern, after the manner of a -screw, in the water. The gamekeeper came up the -water-side, and approached within a few yards of the -boat, before the adventurers could make their way -back into the broad Trent.</p> - -<p>"You are two very old men," said he, lifting up -his hand in a warning manner, "or I would certainly -detain you, and have you indicted for trespass. Take -care you are never found here again!"</p> - -<p>Neither of the old men made a word of reply; and -the gamekeeper walked away.</p> - -<p>"Detained us!—would he?" said Zed, in a low, -but contemptuous tone, as soon as they had gained -the breadth of the river, and the gamekeeper was -sufficiently out of hearing,—"how could he have -done that, if he had tried, think you, Phil?"</p> - -<p>"Never mind talking about that, Zed,—let us be -content with having got out of a scrape," answered -blind Phil: "but now tell me, Zed," he continued, -putting an oar on one side of the boat, and taking his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span> -share of labour with as easy naturalness as if he had -possessed the most perfect eyesight,—"what it could -be that put such a wild notion into your head as to -lead you to think of catching a pheasant with your -hand, or of knocking it down with your hat:—why -didn't you take a bit o' salt to throw on its tail, -Zed?" concluded the fiddler, and burst into another -fit of helpless laughter.</p> - -<p>"He—he—he!" said the fisherman, forcing a -faint laugh, to conceal his shame and vexation;—"never -mind,—never mind that, Phil!" he said,—"my -old head gets weak, or I might ha' been sure -it would be a fool's errand. Was not it a mighty -piece of impudence in that thief of a gamekeeper, -think you, to tell us he had a mind to indict us for -'trespass,' as the Jack-in-office called it?—what -harm could we do, Phil, by just trampling among -the grass for a few minutes?"</p> - -<p>"Poor folks are not allowed to tread upon rich -folks' land, you know, Zed, without their leave," -said the fiddler.</p> - -<p>"No; but isn't it hard that there should be such -a law, Phil?" said the fisherman.</p> - -<p>"Why, as for that, Zed," replied Phil, "my godmother's -grandfather,—who, my godmother used to -tell me, was a famous scholar in his day,—used to say -that all the land belonged to every body, and that nobody -ought ever to have called an acre his own, in -particular. If that had been the case, you see, Zed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span> -the gamekeeper could not have threatened to indict -you and me for trespass this morning."</p> - -<p>"No more he could, Phil," rejoined Zed; "but, -then, if the land belonged to every body,—in such a -way that nobody could say an acre belonged to him, -only,—why, how would the land be ploughed and -the grain sown,—for you know the old saying, -Phil, 'What's every body's business is nobody's -business?'"</p> - -<p>"My godmother's grandfather used to say that -people ought to join in companies to do it," replied -Phil: "it's a subject I am not master of to the extent -he was, by all account; but I feel sure of one -thing, Zed,—that the world could not have been -much worse divided than it is at present, since the -rich have so much land among them, and the poor -have none."</p> - -<p>"You are right there, Phil, beyond a grain -o'doubt," rejoined Zed.</p> - -<p>"And my godmother's grandfather used to say -besides," continued the fiddler, "that God Almighty -gave the world to every body, and that the rich had -stolen the poor's share of the land—for God Almighty -never left them destitute."</p> - -<p>"Then, in that case, Phil," said the fisherman, -"there is a share, each, belonging to you and to me: -and then it seems doubly hard to be told, when your -own share has been stolen from you, that you shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span> -be indicted for trespassing upon the land of one that -has more than his share—doesn't it, Phil?"</p> - -<p>"Right, Zed, right!" returned Phil; "I'm pleased -to find you relish a bit of sensible talk, now and -then; and can you deny, now, that that plan of my -godmother's grandfather would be a real good one, -and tend to make every body happy. Place all the -folks in the world on a level, Zed,—and let every -man take his fair share in ploughing and tilling, you -know, Zed,—and then let every man share in cutting -the corn,—and all would have a fair title to -eat it. You must see this to be fair—quite fair, -Zed?"</p> - -<p>"Fair enough, no doubt," replied the fisherman; -"but then, Phil,—as I always ask you, but you -never answer me,—how can you contrive to bring -all this about?"</p> - -<p>"Nay, now, you don't argue fair!" answered -Phil; and it was the only answer he had, like many -more learned proposers of good theories.</p> - -<p>"A plague on all such gibberish!" exclaimed Zed, -"we shall want but a small share of any thing long, -and if we don't get our fair six feet of land when we -have done sailing, why, we can rest very well in -Davy Jones's locker. Where's the use of bothering -our old brains with such crabbed matters?"</p> - -<p>"Ods bobs and bodikins!" replied Phil, "but I -think you are about right, Zed: I must own it's only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span> -a simple sort of a thing for you and I to be troubling -our heads about great folks and their lands."</p> - -<p>"I' faith, you talk sense, Phil!" said Zed; "confound -the great folks! let 'em take their land! We've -managed to push along through threescore summers -and more, and we can manage to get through, I think, -now. But, swape in, Phil! for we're just alongside -Littleborough again, and I'm so hungry that I feel -inclined to step on shore, and ask for a bite of the -wedding-cake this morning: I'll warrant 'em they'll -be keeping up the merriment yet."</p> - -<p>"Promise me one thing, though, Zed," said Phil,—"that -you'll take no more rum, if they offer it you, -and that you won't stay longer than a couple of hours -or so."</p> - -<p>"Don't think I shall play the fool twice over!" -retorted Zed; "I'll warrant it I'll come away as sober -as a judge this time, and take no more fool's tricks -into my head to-day."</p> - -<p>"'Don't say so till you're sure!'" observed Phil, in -his usual sly way; but Zed did not answer, for they -were now at shore, and the fisherman had leaped out, -and was once more mooring the little boat.</p> - -<p>It is hardly necessary to relate that Zed found it -impossible to keep his hasty promise of a very short -stay, seeing that the "Weddingers" were "keeping -it up" in true old-fashioned style, and Phil's fiddle -became, right soon, the very soul of their merriment. -Phil, however, had made his mind up, and succeeded,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span> -though with great effort, in getting his old companion -once more fairly afloat and on the way home -about an hour before sunset. Although Zed had, -indeed, the virtue to refuse the parting cup of rum, -when it was offered, yet his old noddle was far from -being its own perfect master, by reason of his frequent -revisitations of the ale-pottle; and the first mile on -the water was all music of the most gleeful nature -with the old voyagers. "Indeed," as Phil himself -used to say, when talking about it, "we had each of -us whetted our whistles till will-ye, nil-ye, we must -pipe, and couldn't help it!" They were trolling forth, -for the last time, their old burthen of</p> - - -<div class="center"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="i2">"Says I to myself, says I,</div> -<div class="i2">Though I can't laugh, I won't cry;</div> -<div class="i0">Let 'em kill us that dare; they're all fools that care:</div> -<div class="i2">We all shall live till we die!"</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="in0">when the report of a gun, and the sudden flight of -a drooping heron across the Trent, arrested their -music.</p> - -<p>"By Jingo! she's a dead bird, in three minutes!" -exclaimed Zed; "mark how her right wing droops, -Phil!"</p> - -<p>"I wish I could mark it," said Phil; "but you -always forget that my poor old eyes are blanks, when -you've——"</p> - -<p>"There she goes, plop among the osiers!" cried -Zed, in an ecstasy; "pull away to the larboard, -Phil. I'll have her in a twink."</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span></p> - -<p>"'Don't say so till you're sure!'" observed Phil, -but pulled away like a dragon in the direction recommended -by his companion, nevertheless.</p> - -<p>Zed leaped out of the boat in a confounded hurry, -when he thought it was near enough for him to gain -the shore; but he leaped out too soon, for he fell flat -on his face among the "warp," as the mud of the -Trent is called in Lincolnshire, and floundered like a -flat fish when it has been left by the water in a -situation where it cannot get away.</p> - -<p>"Holloa! what, in the name o' bad luck, are you -about?" cried Phil, hearing poor Zed make a mighty -scuffle among the mud.</p> - -<p>Zed made no answer, but kept struggling on; for -the fact was, that he was so eager to secure the bird, -that he had succeeded in laying hold of one of its -legs, and, keeping hold, prevented himself from -rising. The heron and Zed made a desperate flapping -and floundering, insomuch that Phil roared out, -more than once,—</p> - -<p>"What, in the name of heaven and earth, are you -about, I say, Zed?"</p> - -<p>"Keep the boat in shore," cried Zed, with his -mouth half filled with mud; "I shall have her in -another minute."</p> - -<p>"'Don't say so till you're sure!'" retorted Phil -again; and just then the sportsman who had shot -the heron jumped out of his boat on a firmer part of -the strand, and, running along the bank, arrived at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span> -the spot where Zed was struggling with the bird. -He struck off Zed's hold of the fowl with a slight -blow from his fowling-piece, and bore away the bird -in triumph. Zed slipped into the Trent, and went -souse over head, but rose instantly, and clambered -into the boat. He vented his disappointment and -vexation against the sportsman in no very gentle -terms, while the sportsman mocked him from the -bank; and, when the captor of the heron stepped -into his boat, Zed urged Phil to pull away, that they -might capsize the fellow, and give him a ducking, as -he said in his foolish haste. But Phil was always -Zed's better angel, though he was but a blind old -fiddler. "No, no, Zed," he cried, "you shall not -go that way. Let us make for home, that you may -get to the fire-side. I say you shall <i>not</i> go—and I -mean it, too."</p> - -<p>Nobody in the world could control Zed Marrowby -but Phil Garret, when old Zed was in his fuddled -freaks; and even Phil could not always succeed; but -Zed's wet shirt helped to cool his choler in this -instance.</p> - -<p>"To old Nick with the fellow, and his heron-sue!" -cried Zed, pulling in the same direction with Phil; -"I'll e'en let him take his live lumber: what good -will it do him?"</p> - -<p>"Just as the fox said of the grapes, when he -couldn't reach 'em—'Hang 'em! they're as sour as -crabs!'" rejoined Phil; "but that was what I said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span> -to myself, when you were struggling so hard to get -the useless fowl; and what good would it have done -you, Zed?"</p> - -<p>"Hang me, if I know, exactly!" replied Zed, -looking foolish, and wishing himself in a corner.</p> - -<p>"You wouldn't like to eat a heron-sue, for they're -as rank as stinking fish, I've heard say," continued -Phil; "and what else you would have done with it -I'm quite at a loss to guess: but never mind, Zed, -you've got a cooler, now,—and I think you won't -be so hot again for some time to come."</p> - -<p>"Well, well, it's all in our lifetime," said Zed, -resolving to be cheerful; "only pull away, and let -us get to our own fire-side, that I may dry my old -skin, there's a jolly fellow!"</p> - -<p>"So I will, Zed," replied Phil, and doubled the -force of his strokes at the oar; "but I hope you'll -promise me not to resume your gold-digging when -we land under the old castle-walls."</p> - -<p>"I will, I will, Phil,—and so don't banter me -any more; I shall be a cooler man for some time to -come, after this, depend on't," answered Zed, with -his teeth chattering.</p> - -<p>And Zed spoke as truly as ever a prophet spoke, -and much more truly than many; for, although he -got well warmed ere he went to bed, yet his participation -of so much extra liquor at the wedding, his -foolish freak at money-digging the preceding night, -and his cold bath to conclude, operating together<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> -upon his aged frame, produced rheumatic effects -which never left him.</p> - -<p>Zed Marrowby and Phil Garrett left their voyaging -at the close of that summer. True, they made -all fit and industrious preparation for the next -spring; and Zed's heart was gleefully bent on resuming -their old cruises on their beloved Trent, and -in their beloved old boat; but Phil listened with a -foreboding heart to the deep cough which shook -Zed's old body through the winter, and often interrupted -his fervid utterances of what pleasure he expected -when summer should come again. And when -Zed Marrowby would exclaim, "We shall have -another merry summer's cruise yet, Phil!" Phil -Garret would answer with more solemnity, much -more, than was his wont to put on, "Don't say so -till you're are sure. I think, Zed, we shall cruise no -more in this world; and I hope our next port will -be in a better land." Zed poohed and pshawed, for -some time, at this "solemn way o' talking," as he -called it; but at length he began to feel that Phil -was right—he grew feebler as the spring drew -nearer, and when it came, feeling the expectation to -be vain of ever stepping again into the beloved old -boat, he took Phil's advice—for he said he always -thought it worth more than the parson's—and -strove to fix his mind on reaching the happy port in -the better land.</p> - -<p>Zed Marrowby's end was calm and peaceful; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span> -so was that of Phil Garret, his faithful companion, -who was also laid under the green sod in old Torksey -churchyard within six months after. The memory -of their names and lives is well-nigh lost in the rural -locality where they lived; but there is not a saying -more common in old Lincolnshire to this day than -that quaint caution so often uttered by the blind -fiddler to his less grave comrade, "Don't say so till -you are sure!"</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>MASTER ZERUBBABEL,<br /> -<span class="small">THE ANTIQUARY;<br /> -AND<br /> -HOW HE FOUND OUT THE "NOOSE LARNING."</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Antiquaries are scarce now-a-days. Don't mistake -me, reader; I know that there is an abundance -of writers on things which are ancient—ay, and -more, that certain pragmatical folk pretend now -to know more exactly how every thing went on two -thousand years ago, nay four thousand years ago, -than was known a few generations since by the first -scholars in Europe. But don't say I question the -likelihood of people knowing more about the ancients -the farther time removes us from them,—because -that would be literary heresy, and would bring -upon an unlucky wight the hot persecution of the -orthodox. But—I repeat it—Antiquaries are scarce -now-a-days. I mean, your real thorough-bred ones, -if I may say so—the fine old fellows who forgot their -breakfasts and dinners, walked out in their night-caps, -went to bed in their inexpressibles,—in brief,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span> -did all manner of queer absent things by reason that -they were ever present, in mind, with the long bearded -Druids, or the starched Romans, or the waggish -Athenians, or the broth-supping Spartans, or some -other of the peoples who have been dead and buried -hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Talk of antiquaries!—where -are your lean, skeleton, paragons -of patience now, who can dwell seven years, with -ecstasy, on the contemplation of a nail proven to -have been attached to a horse-shoe of ten centuries -old,—or who will write you, fasting, twenty folio -sheets on the discovery of an urn of Roman coins, -or the opening of a British tumulus? The race is now -extinct: it has been driven out of existence by the -newer and more civilised race of the gentlemen antiquaries,—just -as the aborigines of New Holland and -North America are following where the Peruvians -have already gone, into the realm of nought, before -the European grasp-alls.</p> - -<p>One of the latest existing specimens of the genuine -antiquary was to be found in the little county town -of Oakham, in little Rutland, some seventy years bygone. -Zerubbabel Dickinson was his name, and he -was proud of it;—and many an unwilling and loitering -urchin had he whipt through the nouns and verbs, -and the "Propria quæ maribus," into the "As in -præsenti," in his time, for he kept the best school in -the town, during his best days;—and when his vigour -declined, and his eyes and ears grew somewhat dim,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span> -he still continued to exert his skill and intelligence -in the induction of a more contracted number of -pupils into the porches of classic learning. But then -he no longer enjoyed the high gratification of being -addressed in his full, imposing name, alike by peasant, -tradesman, or gentleman: Zerubbabel sunk to "Hubby," -as the fine old pedagogue's shoulders declined -in their stately height, and his slower sense rendered -it less certain that he heard distinctly every syllable -which was uttered by his acquaintances. Yet there -was no acidity of motive, no ill-naturedness, in -the use of this familiar abbreviation, for Hubby -Dickinson was as much beloved, if he were not quite -so stiffly respected, as "Master Zerubbabel" had -been. And that shows, almost beyond the necessity -of telling, that the fine old antiquary had contracted -no rust of the heart among the rusty coins he had -turned over so oft and so ecstatically; but, rather, -that his excellent nature had mellowed and become -more loveable with age, though it had shrunk from -its former somewhat pride-blown proportions.</p> - -<p>Self-complacence Hubby Dickinson had felt, in his -day,—and he must have been a philosopher, indeed, -could he have utterly subdued such a feeling,—seeing -that his learning was esteemed, by gentle and -simple, a thing so ponderous and vast, that every -body wondered how Master Zerubbabel's brain could -hold it, or his shoulders bear the burthen of it. Certes, -there was not even a clergyman in the neighbourhood,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span> -despite his Oxford or Cambridge matriculation, -but what resorted to the humble abode of the great -antiquarian schoolmaster for the interpretation of -difficult Greek or Hebrew texts; not an ancient -will or parchment ever puzzled a Rutland lawyer, -but it was brought to Master Zerubbabel Dickinson -to decipher it; and not a ploughboy or a hedger -or ditcher found a rust-eaten coin, or an ancient key, -or a mysterious-looking fragment of pottery beneath -the earth's surface, but they would forthwith journey -to the dwelling of the "high-larnt" Oakham schoolmaster -to learn the meaning, or the use, or the value -of their discovery. Coins the illustrious Zerubbabel -possessed of all ages, and almost all countries—at -least, so he believed,—and keys of the most ornate -Saxon fashion; and spear-heads and arrow-heads of -the most primitive Keltic rudeness; beaking-bills of -the age of Alfred, and daggers of the reign of Canute; -fragments of steel-shirts that had been worn in -the Crusades; and hilts and crosses of swords which -had done service in Cressy or Agincourt: and all -these were so learnedly arranged, that their order, -itself, proclaimed the antiquary's incomparable erudition; -while the syllables he would utter in illustration -of their uses, and ages, and owners, and concomitants -innumerable, left you in a perfect whirl of wonder!</p> - -<p>Now, of all these, the priceless contents of his -precious museum, Zerubbabel had written folio upon -folio; and still continued to write thereon, feeling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> -that it behoved him to say all that possibly could be -said, on topics of such surpassing magnitude and importance, -ere he ventured to give his lucubrations to -the world. Nevertheless, these were minor labours, -which, compared with one great and grand undertaking -that occupied nine-tenths of every leisure -hour of his more advanced life, were but as so many -ant-hills to a pyramid.</p> - -<p>Reader, hast thou ever seen the old castle of Oakham? -If thou hast not, and opportunity will serve, -prythee, go thither, and feast thy eyes with the -wondrous array—not of breathing sculptures, or -matchless pictures; not of antique folios or curiously -carven cabinets; not of storied tapestries or blazing -heraldries—but of horse-shoes: ay, horse-shoes of -all sorts and sizes, that adorn the walls of that singular -old Saxon hall,—supported by its "antique pillars -massy proof,"—and stretching its primitive roof overhead. -A sight it is, pregnant with abundant reflection, -that curious monument of feudalism; and -many and marvellous are the stories they tell you -about its origin: but, chiefly, they report that Ferrers—the -Earl now, but simply, the <i>ferrier</i>, or farrier, -to the victorious Norman—obtained, with this fief, -authority to demand a horse-shoe of any knight, -baron, or earl, who rode for the first time through -his manor of Oakham. And many a veritable shoe -taken from the foot of the steed of proud baron, or -chivalrous knight,—his name obliterated by the rust<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span> -of ages,—you behold on those walls; but therewith -now mingle the mock-shoes of the modern great: -a semblance, merely, put up at a great price, in some -instances, they say. Gigantic shapes, some of these -modern things are: such are those bearing the inscriptions -"H. R. H. the Prince Regent," and -"H. R. H. the Duchess of Kent," which latter hath -a more diminutive one beside it, inscribed "the -Princess Victoria." Of the judges, who here hold -the courts of assize, the modern monuments of this -curious kind are the most numerous; and if you listen -to a sly Oakhamer he will not fail to tell you how -often that model of political consistency, of generosity, -liberality, integrity, impartiality, gentleness, and all -the enlightened virtues—the ever-to-be-commemorated -Abinger—was <i>dunned</i> for his five pounds, and -how often he contrived to slip, like an eel, through -the fingers of those whose office or privilege it is to -claim the shoe or the price of it, before he was -finally caught. Yet <i>there is</i> the shoe of the stainless -and exalted legal functionary on the wall,—so that -he <i>was</i> caught at last!</p> - -<p>Pardon, reader, this most unseemly wandering -from the illustrious subject of our present biography, -the erudite Zerubbabel Dickinson. Now it was -in the contemplation of this unique monument of -baronial greatness,—it was in the collection and -collocation of manuscripts relative to the identity of -the several shoes,—it was in the array of the pedigrees<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span> -of those in whose names they were put up,—it -was in brushing away the rust (not from the shoes, -for the discerning Dickinson would have adjudged -him a pagan, of a verity, and no Christian, who dared -to disturb a grain of it!)—the rust of uncertainty -that hung about the names and memories of those to -whom the more ancient furniture of horses' feet belonged,—it -was in this mine profound of all that was -important, and noble, and useful, and great, and -grand, about the countless catalogue of horse-shoes -that were nailed to the walls of the great hall in the -castle of Oakham, that the learned and laborious -Zerubbabel dug and delved,—it was on these themes, -I say (and I scarcely know how to express myself -worthily on so magnitudinous a matter), that the -indefatigable and magnanimous schoolmaster-antiquary -expended the choicest energies of his untiring -intellect.</p> - -<p>This, courteous reader, was the prime labour—the -<i>opus majus</i> of Master Zerubbabel Dickinson. -The work was to have been entituled "<i>Tallagium -illustrissimum; seu Catalogus solearum ferrearum</i>"—with -I know not how many more <i>ums</i> and <i>arums</i>, -besides. <i>Was</i> to have been? Yes; for let it not be -supposed that so stupendous a work was ever finished. -It was the opinion of the laborious Zerubbabel himself -that it never could be finished, so transcendent -was the <i>beau-idéal</i> of such a work that he had conceived.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span></p> - -<p>But enough of a subject which, in this degenerate -age, will never be placed at its right value. This -slender fragment of a biographic memorial was not -commenced so much with the view of showing how -truly great a man was the erudite Master Zerubbabel,—since -we would despair as deeply of doing justice -to so immense a subject as Zerubbabel himself despaired -of completing the leviathan folios of the mighty -"Tallagium illustrissimum:" we have a more philosophic -purpose in view—namely, the proof, by history, -of the striking moral truism, that the greatest men -are very little men when you take them out of their -accustomed sphere: in other words, that the wisest -men are fools when you talk to them about things -with which, in spite of their wisdom, they are not -conversant. But why prove a truism? Ah, my -friend, these same truisms, as the world calls them, -for the greater part, are just the very things that -want proving——.</p> - -<p>"Master Hubby," said a jolly fat farmer who -called, with his fat wife and her egg-basket, at the -schoolmaster's door, towards five of the clock on a -market afternoon, "we've browt ye a queer, odd-fashionedish -sort on a thing, here, that we f'un i'th' -home clooas tuther day; can ye tell us what it is?" -and the farmer produced an ancient fragment of ironwork -of a crooked form, but so unlike any modern -utensil of any kind, that any one but an antiquary -might well be puzzled with it. Nay, the profoundly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span> -erudite Zerubbabel himself was nonplused for the -moment! He turned it over and over, and put on -his spectacles, and then took them off again, and -wiped them, and re-adjusted them to the most perfect -distance for his natural optics—that is to say, he -placed them as near to the very tip of his nose as they -would remain without falling off,—but all his delays -for consideration would not do: he was compelled to -confess that he did not know what it was!</p> - -<p>"Why dooant ye, indeed?" cried the farmer with -a stare.</p> - -<p>"The Lord ha' marcy on us! you dooant say so, -Master Hubby, do ye?" echoed the farmer's wife, -perfectly electrified with the thought that there was -any thing ancient which Hubby did not understand; -and she set down her basket of eggs, and drew out -her spectacle-case, and put on her spectacles also, to -gaze at Hubby in his.</p> - -<p>And so there stood the odd trio at the learned -schoolmaster's door: the man of ancient learning, -barnacled to the nose-tip, and holding up the curious -crooked rusty piece of iron with a gaze of indescribable -eagerness; and the farmer with open mouth, and -hands buried in the profound pockets of the plush -waistcoat that enveloped the goodly rotundity of his -person; and the farmer's wife, with the basket at -her feet, her arms a-kimbo, and her eyes directed -with intense earnestness through her spectacles on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span> -the movements of the illustrious Zerubbabel's countenance.</p> - -<p>There was a perfect silence of full three minutes, -and still the trio gazed on.</p> - -<p>"Where found ye it?" asked Hubby, at last, -not knowing what other question to adventure.</p> - -<p>"At Hambleton on th' hill," replied the farmer; -"and what think ye to't then now, Master Hubby?" -he asked again.</p> - -<p>Zerubbabel shook his head, and there was again a -profound and perfect silence.</p> - -<p>"You know, Davy," said the farmer's wife, at -length, "young Bob Rakeabout said he was somehow -of a mind it was——"</p> - -<p>"Pooh, woman!" said the impatient farmer; -"where's the use and sense of telling what such a -rattle-scallion as he thinks?"</p> - -<p>"Nay, but, Davy," reiterated the spouse, "it may -be of use, for they say he's book-larnt."</p> - -<p>"Book-larnt! ay, mally good faith, I think as -much: and noose-larnt, too," replied the farmer; "and -I wish, when his last noose is tied, he may be allowed -benefit o' clargy!" and he burst into a loud laugh at -his own wit.</p> - -<p>"Well, howsomever," said the wife, "young Bob -said he could swear it was a spur, and nowt else."</p> - -<p>"<i>Calcar equitis Romani</i>, of a verity!" exclaimed -Zerubbabel, and danced with ecstasy, till the farmer -and his wife stared harder than ever.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ha! ye f'un' it out?" cried the farmer's wife: -"Lord! maister Hubby, do tell us what ye think -it is."</p> - -<p>"A spur, good neighbours, a spur it is, no doubt, -and hath belonged to some valorous Roman knight -many ages ago," replied Hubby.</p> - -<p>"Why, zowks, then, Bob was right," said the -farmer; "and pray ye, Maister Hubby, accept a -dozen o' pullets' eggs with it, for it is not worth -having by itself."</p> - -<p>Zerubbabel was of a very different opinion, but -very thankfully received the eggs, notwithstanding; -and his homely visitors bade him good afternoon.</p> - -<p>And now did the deeply learned man retire into -the very penetralia of reflection, and meditation, and -thought, and consideration, and so forth; yet the -"vasty cavern" of his mind displayed other and -more profound concernments than admiration of the -invaluable Roman spur. "<i>Noose-larnt</i>"—that was -the singular word which riveted his thought. -"Noose-larnt!"—what could it mean? That was -the great question which the great Zerubbabel -asked of himself—for he knew no higher authority -on such high matters—at least one hundred times -before he went to bed; but he slept—answerless! -Again, on the succeeding day—ay, and on the -day succeeding that day—Hubby Dickinson pondered -on the same profound problem; and, on the -third night, when he had extended his cogitations to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> -the stroke of twelve, and his sole remaining candle -was reduced to one inch of tallow, and four of black -wick, curling through and through the struggling -bit of flame, and spreading gloom rather than light -over Hubby's little studium—then it was that -Hubby Dickinson, feeling one thought go through -him like a flash of lightning, suddenly sprang up, -crying out, "Eureka—eureka!" and plucked an -ancient volume from its shelf to satisfy himself of -the correctness of his thought.</p> - -<p>The searcher for enlightenment snuffed the candle -with a speed and dexterity which few could equal,—performing -the act with Nature's snuffers, his -fingers,—feeling that the vastitude and urgency of -the inquiry did not permit the delay of employing -the aid of man's mechanic invention,—and then, and -then—opening the ancient volume, and turning to -the name he contemplated, and fixing his spectacles, -once again, in the most advantageous position—the -ardent and delighted antiquary read out aloud to -himself the following passage from the said ancient -tome:—</p> - -<p>"Anaxagoras, the disciple of Anaximenes, was surnamed -<i>Nous</i>, which signifieth <i>intelligence</i>, by reason -of his excelling quickness of parts, and a certain, I -know not what, of instant perception or discernment -of nice difficulties in a twinkling. For whereas -other wise men went round about to survey the -questions to them proponed, on this side and that,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> -and, after much nice calculation and naming of -postulates, drew from the balance of probabilities -what they affirmed to be a correct answer, this -philosopher manifested a strength and clearness of -judgment, and swiftness of reasoning, which might be -said to partake of intuition,—a faculty which the -gods themselves only possess in its perfection: and -thus it came to pass that Anaxagoras was called, in -the Hellenistic tongue, <i>Nous</i>, or intelligence."</p> - -<p>That was the passage he read; and when he had -read it he closed the heavy quarto with a noise like -the report of a gun, and again cried out that "he had -found it" with all his power of lungs. And then, -feeling that he had done business enough for one -night, in having made so transcendentally-sagacious -a discovery, he put out the small remnant of candle, -groped his way to his bedside, and, while he performed -the prefatory work of unclothing, thus he -soliloquised:—</p> - -<p>"Yea, of a verity, this is the true interpretation -of the mystery. This 'Noose-larnt' young man is -some great natural genius,—some miracle of mother -wit,—some second Anacharis the Scythian, who -would very likely beat all the wise men of this time, -although he never entered the pale of the schools,—nay, -perhaps, hath never passed beyond the limits of -the lordship of Hambleton-on-the-hill. I have no -doubt of it; for none but such a genius could have -determined, without witchcraft, that this curiously<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span> -shapen piece of ancient armour pertained to the -heel. It is strange that my friend, the parson of -Hambleton,—who must have given the young man -this expressive epithet, seeing that the rural people -understand no Greek,—it is strange that he never -told me of the existence of this youth. But I will -essay to find him out, if I be spared till the morning -light! O Hubby Dickinson! though few now -call you Zerubbabel, yet you may have lived to -this age for a high purpose, even to bring to -light the name and singular endowments of this -'Noose-larnt' youth! Why, the discovery may even -ennoble you beyond the composition of the grand -Tallagium!" And then Hubby fell asleep, and -dreamt delightfully; but the delight itself, of his -dream awoke him, and again he began to soliloquise -amid the darkness:—</p> - -<p>"Why, it is as clear and luminous as the sun at -noon to my mind," he said to himself: "nothing -less than the possession of a high degree of the faculty -of intuition could have enabled this youth to announce -such a truth. Verily, there is no wonder -the rude peasant people entertain suspicions that he -hath a familiar, or is a wizard: and that they do -entertain such ideas is evident from that strange -exclamation, or rather optation, of Gaffer Davy—he -wished when the youth's last noose was tied he -might find benefit o'clergy. There, is an allusion to -the ancient privilege of escape from the halter by a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span> -neck-verse, which I have illustrated in the Tallagium. -Doubtless, the farmers and ploughmen believe this -singular youth to be one who deals in the black art, -and think his mal-practices may bring him to the -gallows. Ah, it is the way in which the lights of -the world have been treated in all ages! I will find -out the abode of this miracle of nature, that I -will!" he said, and again fell asleep.</p> - -<p>The morning broke, Hubby opened his eyes, and -forthwith arose to renew his self-congratulations. -"Ah, Hubby," said he to himself, "you will live to -be called Master Zerubbabel again, by gentle and -simple; for you are destined, this day, to achieve a -great work!" And then he went over the roll of -his reasonings again, and, feeling more assured than -ever of the certitude of them, he again congratulated -himself. "Ay, as old as I am, I have not lost my -power of penetrating a matter," he said; "tell me -who, in the whole county of Rutland, except myself, -could have found this out from the simple premises -on which it was given me to erect my sagacious -hypothesis?"</p> - -<p>Reader,—was Hubby Dickinson a very silly old -fellow to talk and think thus? Ah, how many of -your great philosophers have reared their world-admired -hypotheses from premises as slight; and -yet how long it was before the folly of many of -them was found out!</p> - -<p>Well, there was now but one step to be taken as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> -a preliminary to the commencement of Hubby's -journey to Hambleton, which, he was sure, would -be memorable while the world lasted: it was—to -give his scholars a holiday.</p> - -<p>Reader,—talk of potentates by whatever name -you will; but your schoolmaster is your only emperor! -Can he not make laws—break laws—bind -his subjects—set them free—and, in one word, do -what he listeth? I tell thee, reader, that his is the -true <i>imperium in imperio</i>: his will is law, and who -can gainsay it? Thou knowest of no potentate so -truly imperial as the village schoolmaster.</p> - -<p>And Hubby Dickinson—had he not power in -himself, and of himself—to give his boys a holiday? -That he had; and when the word was given, ye -powers! what a rush was there over benches, and -what a scampering for hats; and then the huzza! -when the threshold was passed and the plans for -fun throughout the livelong day that were formed! -Woe worth the world! one owes it a grudge, one is -tempted to think, since it hath taken away from our -lips the nectared chalice of childhood, and giveth us -now, from day to day, no other draught but this -unsavoury minglement, wherein one scarcely knows -whether the bitterness or the insipidity most prevails!</p> - -<p>It was but three short miles from Oakham to Hambleton; -and Hubby Dickinson's eagerness of desire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span> -gave such strength and speed to his limbs that he -soon reached the village.</p> - -<p>"Pray, my good friend," said he to a farmer on -horseback, as he entered the place, "can you say -where I shall find the singularly endowed youth who -is familiarly called Bob Rakeabout, the Noose-larnt?"</p> - -<p>Poor Hubby! how he stared, and how loftily indignant -he felt, when the farmer returned him a -broad horse-laugh for an answer, and, setting spurs -to his horse, rode away! He was not to be driven -from his purpose, however, and put the same question -to a pedestrian, next. The man, who was a -ditcher with a shovel on his shoulder, touched, or -rather nipped, his hat skirts, and asked what the -gentleman said; and when he clearly understood that -Bob Rakeabout was wanted, his reply was, that he -knew not where he would be found, unless at the -alehouse. Hubby thanked his informant, but was -sure within himself that there was some mistake -arising from the man's dulness, for it could not be -that a genius of so magnificent a grade as the human -being he was seeking could be found loitering in a -vulgar alehouse. So on Hubby strode, looking at -the ground, and thinking, and thinking,—till, at -last, he was accosted by a very dark-visaged and -singularly dressed man, who stood by a tent in a -lane, on the other side of the village—for the thinker -had passed quite through it, unconsciously.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span></p> - -<p>"Fine weather, sir," said the man; "you seem to -be in a brown study."</p> - -<p>"Pray, my friend," said Hubby, instantly, "know -you one Bob Rakeabout, a singularly gifted youth -who, I am informed, hath obtained the significant -epithet of the 'Noose-larnt?'"</p> - -<p>The man took his short black pipe from his mouth, -and stared agape for a few seconds, and then said, -with a smothered laugh,—</p> - -<p>"Oh, Bob! Ay, I know him well: he's famous -for noose-larning!"</p> - -<p>Hubby Dickinson's heart leaped within him, and he -bounded from the side of the road into the centre of -the lane, and, grasping the man's hand, conjured him -to lead him to the youth's presence. By this time, -three or four more dark faces had gathered at the -entrance of the tent.</p> - -<p>"Come in a bit," said the man to whom the -antiquary had addressed himself. And, winking at -his companions, the gipsy led Hubby into the tent.</p> - -<p>Hubby was placed upon a sack that covered a clump -of wood, and was invited to partake some bread and -cheese,—while a boy ran into the village to fetch -Bob Rakeabout. Having, in his eagerness, utterly -forgot his breakfast at home, Hubby felt nothing -loth when he saw the food, and accordingly accepted -a "good farrantly piece," as the gipsies called -it. A humming horn of ale followed, and then -another, and another. Indeed, the contents of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span> -huge black earthen bottle were passed about rather -freely. Endless questions followed, and strange -answers were given; and sometimes the gipsies -stared, and at others they smiled, and often they -were in danger of laughing outright.</p> - -<p>At length the boy returned, and, behold! immediately -afterwards Bob Rakeabout, the "Noose-larnt" -himself, entered the tent! Hubby rose to receive -him, bareheaded; but, he knew not how it was, it -was somewhat difficult for him to stand, and so he -sat down again. As for the great natural phenomenon -himself, he stretched his brawny hand to each of -the gipsies, and they shook it with remarkable good-humour. -Then, seizing the black earthen bottle, he -applied it to his mouth, without either using the horn -or waiting for invitation to drink.</p> - -<p>Hubby's thinkings were becoming somewhat confused; -but he turned, inwardly, to the fact that -Diogenes threw away his dish when he saw the boy -drink out of his hand. "Of a verity, the youth is -one of Nature's own miracles!" said he to himself.</p> - -<p>Forthwith, Bob Rakeabout rakishly laughed as he -took out a large pouch, composed of mole-skins, and -filled with tobacco. He laid it open on the floor of -the tent, filled his own short pipe from it, and the -gipsies immediately followed his example. Hubby, -as yet, had scarcely spoken to Bob; but when the -whole company began to smoke, and the antiquary -was again pressed to drink, for more than one reason<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span> -he quietly remarked that he much wished to converse -with this youth alone.</p> - -<p>"Oh, ay," replied the gipsy, whom Hubby had -seen first, "Bob will have no objection to that:—you -can show this gentleman some noose-larning, -can't you, Bob?"</p> - -<p>The gipsies tittered,—but Bob understood the -question,—for much had been said by himself and -the gipsies in the peculiar slang of their tribe, which -Hubby had not comprehended.</p> - -<p>"Take another horn, sir," said Bob; "and give -us another ten minutes to smoke our pipes out, and -I'll show ye some noose-larning, in a twink."</p> - -<p>Hubby's head swum partly with pleasure, but -much more with the strong ale, to which he was -unused; but he drank off the other horn, in eager -expectation of such a mental feast to follow it as he -had never yet tasted.</p> - -<p>"Come along wi' me, sir!" cried Bob, springing -up, suddenly, at the end of less than ten minutes; -"come along wi' me, and I'll show ye some noose-larning!"</p> - -<p>"Are ye really off, Bob?" asked the gipsies, all -together.</p> - -<p>"Ay, ay," he answered, "kick up a roaster, and -set on iron-jack against I come back."</p> - -<p>Hubby thought this strange talk; but he had not -time to think much about it, for Bob seized him by -the hand, and away they scampered together over two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> -or three fields, and then entered a wood. And here -Bob took from his pocket certain strange engines of -wood and wire, and, showing Hubby the noose attached -to each, planted them severally in little -openings of bush or brake, while Hubby stared like -one that was thunder-struck, for Bob only uttered -one word—"Noose-larning!" and then, seizing -Hubby by the arm, hurried him on again. At -length, in the thickest part of the wood, Bob began -to take up engines instead of putting them down—but, -lo! there were dead hares attached to them.</p> - -<p>And now poor Hubby Dickinson saw of what kind -of mettle the "miracle of mother-wit" was made, and, -taking to his heels, he ran from the poacher with as -much haste as if a legion of fiends were behind him. -Did the poacher follow? Not he, indeed. He only -burst into hysterics of laughter, and then went on -with his business.</p> - -<p>And whither fled the antiquary? Indeed, he knew -not; but, having emerged from the wood, he ran as -long as the fumes of the strong malt-liquor in his brains -permitted him to retain possession of the power of his -feet; and, when they failed him, he fell souse into a -ditch, which happened merely to contain mud instead -of water, and remained there, insensible and asleep -for the greater part of the time, till late in the afternoon.</p> - -<p>As luck would have it, the parson of Hambleton, -who was an old antiquarian crony of Hubby's, took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> -his afternoon walk in that direction, and, to his perfect -amazement, found his erudite friend in the ditch.</p> - -<p>"Noose-larning!" roared out Hubby, and shook -and shuddered, when the parson had poked him with -his walking-stick until he waked him:—"Noose-larning!" -he still uttered, beholding the poacher in -the wood, in his bewildered condition. With much -ado, Hubby was at length fully brought to the remembrance -of what he was about, and being by that -time perfectly sober,—but dreadfully cramped,—he -clambered out of the ditch; and though sorely -ashamed of his bedaubed condition, and much more of -his doating folly, he accompanied his friend to the -parsonage-house at Hambleton, and, after much entreaty, -with all the simplicity of his soul, recounted -all he could remember of the whole adventure, commencing -with Gaffer Davy's visit and the present -of the Roman spur.</p> - -<p>Oft was the hearty laugh of the plain Oakhamers -raised at Hubby Dickinson's expense, during the remainder -of his life; but the fine old fellow's adventure -never lessened their esteem for him. He was -never permitted to want, even when age had stiffened -his limbs and almost totally closed his eyes and ears. -Town and country were alike proud of the learning -that he had possessed; and the villages, especially, -believed that his like would never be seen in Rutland -again, even to the day of judgment.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span></p> - -<p>In the lapse of a few months, Hubby got over the -shame and soreness of mind created by his adventure -so entirely, as to be able to relish a joke about it; -and, when his lamp of life was quivering and ready -to sink, nothing would so soon cause it to blaze up -with a healthy and cheerful light as a joke about -the "noose-larning"—unless it were a grave and -respectful mention of the "Tallagium illustrissimum." -But the lamp of that life went out at last, though its -exit from mortality was peaceful and gentle as the -sinking to sleep of a babe; and never yet has "the -like" been seen in little Rutland, for wondrous learning, -of Master Zerubbabel Dickinson.</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>THE BEGGARED GENTLEMAN,<br /> -<span class="small">AND<br /> -HIS CROOKED STICK.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>There is not a sight in the world more distressful -to the bosom that retains any measure in it of "the -milk of human kindness" than that of an abject, -poverty-stricken fellow-creature, who once rolled in -wealth and plenty. Even the born beggar, who has -lived a beggar all his life, feels an involuntary compassion -for such a man. And, if his fall be attributable -to no avaricious spirit of speculation, or -proud and sensual excess—but is the effect of Fortune's -untoward frown, or the result of what the -selfish world calls an imprudent practice of relieving -the distressed, the "beggared gentleman" is surely -a legitimate object of universal commiseration.</p> - -<p>"Poor Mr. Clifford!" the most ragged and -hungry inhabitant of Kirton-in-Lindsey would exclaim, -"how much he is to be pitied!—I never -thought to see him come to this!" And when the -subject of this general pity happened to let fall his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span> -curious crooked stick through infirmity of age, there -was not a poor man or woman in the little town but -would hasten to restore it to him who seemed to -regard it as the most prizeable possession he had left -in the world. It was moving to see the instant act -of ceremonious courtesy to which the recipient of this -simple heart-kindness would resort. He would raise -his hat, and smile with the same polite expression of -thankfulness as in his best days. No one who saw -him could forget that he had been a gentleman. -And yet the home of his old age was one of squalid -misery!</p> - -<p>Hugh Clifford's father was a descendant, by a -younger branch, of a noble family, and had gained -a considerable fortune as a merchant in the port of -Hull. He died in the beginning of the reign of -George the Third, and left his accumulated wealth to -his only son, who was then at college. Hugh hastened -home, on the sudden death of his father, and, by the -advice of a few friends, resolved to carry on his -father's mercantile concern. Twelve months, however, -served to disgust him with business. His -wealth, instead of augmenting, began rapidly to decrease -under the peculations of clerks and managers, -to whom the business was necessarily entrusted, and -he took the resolution, ere it was too late, of retiring, -after he had disposed of his "concern," to a pretty -little estate which had fallen to him, by his mother's -right, at the pleasant little rural town of Kirton-in-Lindsey,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span> -that like "a city set on a hill" delights the -eye of the traveller for miles before he reaches it.</p> - -<p>For many years, Hugh Clifford's house was a -general refuge for the distressed. None ever knocked -at his gate, and told a tale of want, but they found -instant relief. Hugh Clifford's heart was expansive -as Nature herself. He felt that all men were his -brethren, and that, if he merely tendered them lip-kindness -when they were in sorrow, it was but mockery. -He pondered over the precepts and history of the -Great Exemplar, until, nature and reason combining -to stimulate him, his whole life became an effort to -banish the misery of human-kind. And yet the -sphere in which he acted was comparatively narrow; -for his natural intelligence was not of that high order -which marks out for itself extended fields of enterprize -in philanthropy. Hugh Clifford could not be -termed a planet, like Howard, that visited widely -distant climes in its great dispensing orbit of goodness; -but he was most veritably a star of benevolence, -that cheered with a pure and genial light all within -its neighbourhood who partook of woe and wretchedness.</p> - -<p>Living, by his charity, in the very core of poor -men's hearts, and respected for his true politeness -and urbanity by his wealthier neighbours, Hugh -Clifford, while he rendered others happy, was believed -to be himself a very happy man. Nevertheless, -for twenty years after he had passed the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> -prime of age, discomfort and distress were gradually -stealing upon him; and these, too, from a source -which was almost entirely unsuspected by the majority -of his neighbours. True, it was sometimes -remarked that fox-eyed lawyer Merrick was often, -very often, at Clifford cottage,—and this was considered -to be anomalous, since Hugh Clifford's acquaintances -had been uniformly chosen for some -quality which distinguished them in the little town -and its neighbourhood, as benefactors rather than -oppressors of the poor: albeit lawyer Merrick was -notoriously of the latter description of character. -A few shrewd, hard-bargaining farmers also made a -notch in their memories, now and then, that lawyer -Merrick's purchases of odd bits of land were becoming -frequent now he seemed to be so very oft a -visitor at good Mr. Clifford's.</p> - -<p>Notwithstanding these slight precurses of suspicion, -it came, at length, upon the ears of the Kirton people, -poor and rich together, like the shock of an earthquake, -that "poor good old Mr. Clifford was turned -bodily out of doors, with nothing but the clothes on -his back and his favourite crooked stick in his hand, -a complete pauper, for that he had been getting into -lawyer Merrick's debt for years and years, by borrowing -small sums upon his estate, whereby all he -was worth was mortgaged to the lawyer, who had -now suddenly foreclosed, and pounced upon house<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span> -and land, pushing good old Mr. Clifford away, by -the shoulders!"</p> - -<p>"Poor Mr. Clifford!" was echoed by every body;—but -who helped "poor Mr. Clifford?"</p> - -<p>There lay the hardest fact in the good man's history. -The little tradesmen who had shared his daily -orders for the relief of the miserable had none of them -more than five pounds in their books against him; -but each of them made out a bill of thrice the amount -of their debt, and so figured in the world's compassion -as great losers by the "beggared gentleman," instead -of ingrates, when they shut their doors against him. -The farmers shook their heads, and buttoned up their -fobs, saying, "It was no wonder that all was over -with Mr. Clifford: he ought to have remembered -that, 'Charity begins at home.'" The parish parson, -who was the prime whip of the neighbourhood, and -spent more days of the year with 'Squire Harrison's -hounds than he spent in his pulpit and study, thrice -told, only struck his top-boots violently with his -whip, and said, "God bless me! I always thought -the poor fellow was cracked in his upper story! -Why, he must have meant to end his days in an -alms-house, or he would not have undertaken to -keep all the poor in my parish and the surrounding -parishes to boot!" and, springing into the stirrups, -was out of sight in a minute.</p> - -<p>And into an alms-house poor Hugh Clifford went, -but not until he had wandered through the little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span> -town three or four times, leaning upon his curious -crooked stick, and looking as if unconscious of the -crowd of tearful poor men and women that followed -him. At first, the parish overseers waited, in the -expectation that, as a matter of course, either the -parson or some of the "better sort of people" would -invite the "beggared gentleman" into their houses; -but when it was seen that no such invitation was -given, while, all the time, the poor fallen man was -wandering in the street with derangement manifest -in his looks, the puzzled overseers laid their heads -together, and agreed that one of the alms-houses -should be apportioned for Mr. Clifford's home, and -that an old deaf female pauper should be put under -the same roof to wait upon him.</p> - -<p>For many days the poor victim to his own goodness -was silent and helpless, and, by order of the -parish surgeon, was disturbed, on the rugged bed -where he lay, no oftener than was necessary to -arouse him in order that he might be fed; for his -mental powers seemed to have undergone so complete -a paralysis as to render him insensible to the calls of -nature. After the lapse of some weeks, during the -latter half of which he seemed to be absorbed in abstract -devotion, poor Hugh Clifford's mind rallied. -And now the meekness with which he bore his adversity -was equally remarkable with the perfectness -of that pity he had evermore displayed for the -wretched during the term of his prosperity. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> -accepted the smallest act of kindness with gratitude; -and the poor deaf old female pauper never knew what -it was to hear him utter a word of complaint.</p> - -<p>The remnant of his life may be summed up in a -few lines. All who had the means of ameliorating -his lot neglected him; and all who wished for the -means, and had hearts to have used them in his relief, -lacked them. He lived years in his beggared -condition, and died calmly and quietly, complaining -of nothing in the world, nor of the world itself, and -leaving but one request,—that his curious crooked -stick might be placed by his right side, in his coffin, -and buried with him!</p> - -<p>The deaf old female pauper who had waited on -him did not fail to communicate this strange request -to the parish overseers when they came to look at -Hugh Clifford's corpse, prior to giving orders for his -burial. It may be guessed that the singular request -gave rise to much wonder and some enquiry. But -the old female could only answer that the good gentleman -would often place his odd-looking walking-stick -in the corner, and sit on his bedside looking -very intently upon it; and that often he would turn -the other side of it to the wall, and then sit and look -at it again; and several times she had seen him take -a little note-book from his coat pocket, at the breast, -and write in it, looking, ever and anon, at the -curious crooked stick.</p> - -<p>The latter part of the old female's communication<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span> -of course occasioned a search. The pocket-book was -found, and in it a paper covered with a close manuscript -of a most curious character, but one that served -to display the anatomy of poor Hugh Clifford's heart -under his misfortunes more fully than it could have -been laid open and read in either death-bed confession, -or funeral sermon. It ran as follows:—</p> - - -<p class="in0 p2t p1b">"<i>A Soliloquy on my only faithful and never-failing -friend,—my beloved and valued crooked stick.</i></p> - -<p>"Ay, there thou art,—my own crooked stick!—My -heart cleaves to thee, in thy crookedness; and I -love thus to look upon thee, more and more, daily, -as thou leanest by the wall in that corner,—remembering -that thou and I were not always tenants of -an alms-house.</p> - -<p>"I love to look upon thee, with a melancholy yet -pleasurable love, beholding that thou preservest thy -crooked identity,—yea, remainest as crooked as ever -thou wert! I know not whether aught within me, -or, indeed, any thing but thyself without me, be still -the same as on that beautiful summer eve when, more -than fifty years ago, I cut thee from the venerable -crab-tree whereon thou didst grow, and we formed -our inseparable friendship.</p> - -<p>"The wise men of this age would tell me that not -a particle of the body I had then, at nineteen, is to -be found in this old body of threescore and ten,—but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span> -that blood, bone, brains, and all its other youthful -components, are changed. I know not, my dear -crooked crab-stick, how truly they may speak; but -this I know,—that I then was proud of a perfect -and spotless array of teeth, while, now, my old -gums are tenantless; that then my eyes were sharp -and strong, while now I see, with the utmost difficulty, -objects removed half a yard from my nose; -that then my ears were instruments of use, and -porches for receiving the brain's most precious visitants, -the sounds of music,—while, now, they only -serve to plague me when I see people's lips moving, -and think, like other old fools, that folks are always -talking about me; and, that I used to have 'a -handsome head of hair,' as my barber always called -it, on quarter-day, when he expected his salary,—while, -now, I behold a perpetual winter above my -brow, and on my brow itself!</p> - -<p>"But, ah! my faithful friend, why should I lament -the changes which have come upon me? Fate, or -Fortune, or whatever power I might fancifully charge -with my evil day, cannot avenge herself of me so -bitterly as she might,—if I had teeth to be set on -edge with inferior food,—eyes to be offended with -the rude shapes of this straw mattrass and rush-bottomed -chair,—ears to be tormented with the jangling -of earthen porringers, as the poor deaf old woman -knocks them against each other,—and hair which I -could not dress for lack of a mirror!</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span></p> - -<p>"And then, as to my inner man, good lack, -my beloved crooked crab-stick! though thou remainest -the same, how is this my inner man changed! -ay, how hath it changed and changed again, since -our first dear friendship was formed! Yet I said in -my heart, once, that my mind could never change -in its regard for what I was pleased to call 'certain -great principles!' Alack! I have lived to feel uncertain -about the certainty and greatness of almost -all principles! and——</p> - -<p>"But stop! how is this, that having taken thee -into my hand, I begin, just now, to question the -reality of thy crookedness? Art thou really so very, -very crooked, my dearly beloved stick?</p> - -<p>"There! I place thee, again, in thy own corner, -that so thou mayst lean against thy own spot in the -wall, and lo! thy crookedness is made, once more, -fully manifest! No, no, my friend—for Hugh Clifford -loves thee too well and sincerely to call himself -thy 'master,' and think of thee as of a slave!—no, -no, it is too late in life for the 'beggared gentleman' -to deceive himself—thou <i>art</i> crooked, crooked -indeed!</p> - -<p>"But ah! my beloved stick, it is for thy crookedness -I love thee, above all, though not for it alone. -I avow to thee, as I have often avowed, in times -past, when no human ear heard me, that I thank -thee, my faithful, crooked, unfailing friend, for all -thy service. Twice, when wielded by my right arm,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span> -didst though enable me to deliver a weak fellow-creature -from his stronger, who would have slain -him because he had not filthy gold or silver to -satisfy the robber: ten times didst thou empower -me to wrest open the cottage doors of dying human -beings deserted by their kind, and unable to arise -and welcome their deliverer: nay, once didst thou -enable me to preserve my own poor life when the -plunderer who now possesseth my house and land -would have secretly and bloodily taken it!</p> - -<p>"What though it bringeth some sorrow to remember -the angelic face and form I saw, for the last -time, but an hour before I cut thee from thy parent -tree, Ah! how well doth life assort the lot of its -inheritors, even when they most deeply repine! The -sea devoured my Mary—my beauty, my only love, -and I repined that she was not spared to share my -riches and possessions; alas! would she not have had -to share my lot, also, in this alms-house? Indeed, -my friend, I was blessed that I gained thy friendship -that night, when my love was taken from me, for -how great a comfort hast thou been to me!</p> - -<p>"I tender thee these my heartfelt thanks, now -our long and interesting friendship is in the yellow -leaf! Many a mile hast thou travelled with me,—unfailingly -hast thou supported my steps in manhood -and old age,—in all weathers,—and never shrunk -from me, nor upbraided either my haste or my tarrying, -my speed or my slowness, my lavishness or my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span> -poverty; but Hugh Clifford cannot expect, in the -nature of things, to remain with thee much longer. -He loves thee so well, that he would fain thou -mightst be laid by his side in the grave: yet such -a request may be met churlishly by those who provide -Hugh's coffin,—and thou mayst become the support -of another, who will, peradventure, proudly call -thee his 'property' instead of his 'companion!'"</p> - -<p>"Farewell, then, my dearly-beloved and highly -valued friend—farewell! but not before I have -more fully thanked thee:——</p> - -<p>"Above all, my precious crooked stick, I return -thee hearty thanks that thou hast been to me a truthful -mirror—yea, a bright and glittering looking-glass,—although -the eye of the undiscerning, and of -those who judge after the outward seeming and surface -appearance, would misreckon thee to be a dry, -dull, opaque crooked crab-stick! Yea, a mirror, I -say, thou hast been to me,—reflecting upon my spiritual -retina,—the judgment,—that great fact, which, -in my folly, I oft would have hidden from myself,—that -I resembled thee!</p> - -<p>"Yet, thou pitiedest me in thy heart,—hard and -unfeeling as some would say that heart must be, the -heart of a crooked crab-stick!—yea, thou pitiedst -me therein, and didst still from thy old corner regard -me with the same unflatteringly argumentative -and admonitory aspect,—penetrating <i>my</i> heart with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span> -the faithful language of <i>thine</i>: 'Hugh! look at me -and know thyself.'</p> - -<p>"And I <i>have</i> looked at thee, and I do <i>now</i> look -at thee, and in thy veritable crookedness I behold -my own!"</p> - -<p>"Reader,—who wilt find this my solemn and earnest -soliloquy, when I am gone,—hast thou a crooked -stick?</p> - -<p>"'I, Mr. Clifford!' answers some young puppy of -one-and-twenty, who, perchance, may take my paper -into his dainty fingers, 'I am not so vulgar as to -carry a crooked stick: my cane is most beautifully -polished, and it is a perfectly straight one!'"</p> - -<p>"Pshaw! my brave lad! I sought not thy answer: -do not be so pert: think more, and talk less, -for the next thirty years; and then re-consider my -question.</p> - -<p>"'I understand your censorious query, Mr. Clifford,' -says another, some score of years older, and -with less buckram but more gauze in his composition—'I -understand you: but the fact is, <i>my</i> stick -is <i>not</i> a crooked stick: it is perfectly straight, and -hath always been straight: 'tis the evil-disposed and -calumnious world who call it crooked: albeit, if they -would only view it aright, they would perceive that -all the parts of it which they think crooked and perverse -are direct as a geometrical right line!'</p> - -<p>"Alas, my reader with the pretended straight stick! -thou pratest in vain to Hugh Clifford, the 'beggared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span> -gentleman!' I tell thee, plainly, thy stick is, like -mine, a crooked one; nay, I tell thee, that every -man's stick is but a crooked stick. And, of all curses -under which this poor abused world groans, may it -be speedily and effectually delivered, I pray, in my -old age and in an alms-house, from the cant of the -starched faces who assure their fellow-creatures with -so much show of sanctity that their crooked sticks -are straight ones!</p> - -<p>"Farewell, then, once again, my beloved but -crooked friend, and thanks for thy faithfulness! -alas, that I neglected to use thy silent admonitions -as I ought to have used them, when the serpent who -wrecked me was wont to shed his false tears while I -related my tales of the poor in his ears! Fool that -I was to take those tears, and the offers to lend more -money that followed, for proofs of his feeling heart! -Ah, my friend, had I to spend life again, I would -attend more closely to thy monitions, and would not -credit a man's professions of humanity, unless they -cost him something! But it is too late to repent at -what I fear I could not have avoided if I had even -seen my error.</p> - -<p>"Let it pass! Hugh Clifford's heart danceth for -joy, even amidst the squalor of an alms-house, that -he can point to no inconsiderable portion of his life, -and say with truth regarding it, as one said of old—'When -the ear heard me, then it blessed me: -and when the eye saw me it gave witness to me:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> -because I delivered the poor that cried, and the -fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The -blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon -me: and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy.'—</p> - -<p>"Yet see I my image in thine, my dear faithful -friend! my stick is but a crooked one, though -I have done some little good in my life! Ostentation -hath mixed itself, more or less, with my purest -charities,—anger hath too often burned in my bosom -till the morning light: I have not always 'done as I -would be done by;' I have too often behaved contemptuously -to my fellow-creatures, forgetting that -I was but a poor, pitiful earth-worm, like themselves. -I am but a <i>crooked</i> stick, like thee, my beloved friend, -with all my imagined excellency.</p> - -<p>"But, finally, I thank thee, that thou hast perseveringly -shown me that I was not perfect: thou -hast preserved me from self-deceit, or at least hast -chased it away, when it hath led me into temporary -captivity.</p> - -<p>"Farewell, then, my beloved crooked stick!—and -if he who, first or last, readeth this my serious soliloquy -feeleth inclined to laugh thereat, let him -answer my question, when I ask him if <i>he</i> be able to -point to one human thing that hath been to him -what thou hast been to me—<i>for fifty years, an ever-faithful -and never-failing friend</i>?"</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><span class="small">THE</span><br /> -NURTURE OF A YOUNG SAILOR;<br /> -<span class="small">OR,<br /> -THE HISTORY OF COCKLE TOM.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Cockle Tom was born in poverty, cradled in hardship, -and schooled, never in the alphabet, but perpetually -in endurance of labour, hunger, and fatigue. -His manhood was brief; but his death was generous -and heroic. He was one of the humble children of -genuine romance, which England produces in profusion, -but whose lives are unchronicled, and the -moral of their story lost, simply from the fact that, -though full of virtuous ambition, they are untainted -with vain-glory: they neither seek for notice in -cities, nor lay claim to distinction in public assemblies; -but they restlessly seek to obtain and preserve -the reputation that they are hard-workers, undaunted -by any danger, and capable of sustaining any amount -of fatigue, or undertaking any risk, even that of life -itself, to benefit the existence or preserve the life of -a fellow-creature. Such is genuine Saxon character—genuine -old English nature: what elements for -useful greatness in a nation, if its rulers were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span> -Alfreds! But to proceed with our humble biography:—</p> - -<p>Cockle Tom was born at Northcotes-on-the-Sands, -a slender, straggling village, bleakly situate on the -Lincolnshire sea-coast, and at no great distance from -the mouth of the Humber. His father was a simple -fisherman, who rented the "cockle sands," as they -were called,—an extent of something more than a -mile, belonging to the parish of Northcotes, and possessed -in fee-simple by the principal landholder in -the neighbourhood. Having married young, and -being early the head of a numerous small family, -Tom's father, from the penury of his condition, was -constrained to introduce every one of his male children, -at least, to the rough and painful labour of -gathering cockles on the sea-beach by the time they -had reached the tender age of five years. And at -that age was Tom first taken, by his elder brothers, -without shoes or stockings, with a bundle of rags -rather than clothes around him, and a red flannel -night-cap tied fast round his head, to gather the -shell-fish, by scraping them out of the sand with his -little hands, and putting them into a small hempen -bag tied round his loins. Little Tom was very eager -to go;—for "the sea! the sea!" was his unvarying -song (chanted in a wild, untaught melody which perhaps -even Neükomm himself would have thought -beautiful, could he have listened to it) from the -day when he was three years old, the first day on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span> -which his father bore him on shoulder to gaze upon -the ships riding in the German Ocean. But poor -little Tom cried bitterly with frozen hands, and cold, -and hunger, before the day was over, and it was time -to return to his mother's aproned knee, and the -soothing heaven of sympathy that dwelt on her -tongue and in her eyes.</p> - -<p>Yet, on the morrow, little Tom would go again. -The father would have left him at home till the -Spring strengthened and the sun came nearer, for it -was but early March as yet; but the little adventurer -was too true to his nature to accept the boon. -And from that day, summer and winter, except when -even the father himself was compelled to stay at -home by reason of an unusual storm, Tom continued -to mount his little red night-cap, like the rest, and -make one among the picturesque line of industrious -stragglers on the sea-beach. To school Tom never -went in his life: though his lot would not have been -more highly favoured in that respect, had he been -the child of a peasant in the interior, or even the son -of a decent mechanic in Lincolnshire, at that period,—for -we are speaking of events of seventy years' -date, from their commencement to our own time,—and -at that far-back period the idea of sending a poor -man's child to school was regarded as a piece of over-weening -pride that deserved no gentle rebuke from -"the better sort of people." But what though he -could never read? he could make boats; and indeed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span> -his earliest error was a display of that kind of ingenuity, -for he bored a hole in the bottom of his -mother's bread-tin when but four years' old, stuck a -wooden mast in it, fitted on a sail, and set it afloat -on the surface of a brook that ran by the end of his -father's little garden; and, while he clapped his little -hands in ecstasy, away dashed his ship to the sea! -He was severely chidden for this, but <i>not</i> flogged: -that was not his mother's way; she happened to have -too much good sense to brutify her offspring: and -the lecture served to shew him that he had done -foolishly,—but it did not annihilate that passion for -ships and the sea which his first sight of them had -created within him. He could make boats—did we -say? ay, and he made a ship, too,—such a ship!—though -this was when he was ten years old, and had -seen the magnificent merchant-vessels from the Mediterranean -and the West Indies go by in full sail -for the Humber and the port of Hull,—such a -ship, with masts, and yards, and rigging, and portholes, -and even miniature sailors,—it was so wondrous -a piece of art as the oldest villager in Northcotes -had never seen, and rendered little Tom the -every-day talk of all its inhabitants. Such talk did -not render little Tom vain, however, for his yearning -mind had influenced his hands to form the ship from -no principle of praise-seeking: it was a type that -signified he meant to sail in such an ocean-vehicle—if -the simple people could so have read it.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span></p> - -<p>Unmindful of praise, and true to the energy that -was growing within him, little Tom learnt to swim, -and dive, and play with the huge ocean as familiarly -as with his elder brothers. More especially if a -vessel chanced to anchor near the shore, either to -wait for a change of wind, or to barter for fish, that -was a temptation so powerful with Tom, that he seldom -waited for his father's return, if at a distance -with the boat,—but into the wave he would plunge, -and speedily gain the vessel, becoming, in a few -minutes, a favourite with every one on board, for his -sense and activity. Tom's brothers shared the pleasure, -or at least the benefits, of these ventures, though -they were neither skilful nor courageous enough to -share the peril; for little Tom usually returned, -bearing by the strings in his mouth, like a water dog, -his cockle-bag filled with precious scraps of sea-biscuit, -and sometimes a bit or two of boiled salt beef,—a -priceless luxury for the brothers, to whom noble -little Tom invariably gave up the bag, as soon as he -reached the shore.</p> - -<p>By the time that Tom was regularly entered as -one of his poor father's labouring band, the strongest -of his three elder brothers was taken by the father, -into the little boat, taught to assist in managing the -bladdered nets, and so advanced from a mere cockle-gatherer -to an embryo fisherman. The two next -brothers were neither sufficiently strong, active, or -enterprising, ever to rival the oldest; but when Tom -was ten years old, though Jack was fifteen, his father<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span> -preferred taking him in the boat. The little hero -not only gained greater knowledge, but rapidly grew -in courage, presence of mind, and plan for adventure, -by the change. In fact, the father's circumstances -were speedily bettered by his child's intelligence and -energy.</p> - -<p>One day, while his father was "dealing" the largest -net out of the boat, so as to prevent its getting -"foul," and little Tom was riding upon the old -horse which the father was necessitated to keep for -his daily use, towing the end of the net by a line to -the required distance into the water, he perceived -that he was among an unusually large shoal of fine -fish,—and so swam the horse out, considerably, with -the intent to have a full sweep of the treasure. Much -to the lad's chagrin, however, the father hallooed, and -motioned, and menaced, for him to come back; and -so Tom, who was too true a lad to disobey when his -father seemed so angry, was constrained to give up -his prize, and the result was that the father had to -meet his usual chapman for the Louth market with -only a very pitiful take of fish for the day. Tom -was then but twelve years old, but his shrewdness -discerned how greatly these timid acts of his father -served to gird in the hungry family with straitness. -He had never disobeyed on a large scale before; but -his spirit prompted him to what, according to his -unschooled casuistry, he conceived to be a virtuous -disobedience, now—and yet it was a venturous and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span> -perilous deed for a child that he undertook. And -thus he went about it.</p> - -<p>He drew his mother aside, as soon as they returned -home in the evening, and dazzled her imagination -with his brilliant and excited account of the value -and fineness of the shoal he had seen, and told her -he was resolved to have them before the next morning.</p> - -<p>"The Lord help thee, bairn!" exclaimed the -mother; "what art thou talking of?"</p> - -<p>"Talking sense, mother," said Tom; "and you'll -see it: for you must sit up till Jack and I come back -with the old horse: we'll set off as soon as my fayther -has gone to bed and fallen fast asleep."</p> - -<p>"Jack!" cried the mother, "why, it'll make him -tremble to talk o' such a thing!"</p> - -<p>"The more's the shame for him, then," replied the -little hero; "if he does tremble, and durst not go, -I shall think him a lubber"—a word that Tom had -learnt from the sailors, and, of course, was very fond -of using: "the moon's at full, and we can see as well -as by daylight to manage the net."</p> - -<p>"Thou'lt be drownded, bairn," said the mother; -"and, besides, the fish may be all gone from where -thou saw 'em this morning."</p> - -<p>"Not they," insisted Tom; "they're brits, mother,—fine -large brits," he repeated, with sparkling eyes; -"and you've heard my fayther say over and over -again that flat fish stay in a snug bottom for days -together. I saw 'em spread all along the far flat,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span> -within the sunk rocks, toward Donna Hook: they've -found fine shelter, and plenty to feed on, no doubt, -and they won't go away; they'll make pounds, mother—and -we need money, you know, mother."</p> - -<p>Tom's mother gazed at him with fond wonder: so -much ardour, so much earnest zeal to benefit his -parents, and brothers and sisters, in one so young—it -was almost too much for her, and the tears rose, as -she stood silently looking at her child, with one hand -on his shoulder, and his eager, entreating eyes penetrating -into her very soul to learn whether he would -win her consent. He prevailed, however, and she -heard the last footsteps of the old horse, as it slowly -left the door of the cottage, with Tom and Jack on -its back, and the net packed behind, with feelings of -excited apprehension she had not felt since the first -storm after her marriage, when her husband was out -at sea.——</p> - -<p>"What's that?" asked the father, half awaking -at the sound of the horse's feet, and wondering that -his wife was still up; but she rendered him some -evasive answer, and continued darning one of the -children's rent garments, telling him that she must -have it done for the boy to put on in the morning. -Leaving the reader to imagine the mother's agonising -doubts and fears, and anxious listenings to the movement -of every changeful sound of the night, let us -attend to Tom and his brother, and their daring adventure. -Not that it needs any expanded description,—for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span> -it was entered upon, and achieved, with all Tom's -soul thrown into it, in such a way as to render it -memorable to Jack's latest day, when Jack told it to -his children. Jack was fearful enough at remaining -alone in the boat to hand out the net by moonlight,—but -Tom was dashing along on the old horse that was -a good swimmer, and was not long in doubling and -returning. Again and again was their swoop of the -sea repeated, till their strength was well-nigh exhausted -with toiling to carry on land their loads of -fish. A mighty harvest from the great waters it -was, to be reaped by the energy and intrepidity of a -boy of twelve years old. The fish were concealed -in a "crike" or small freshet, a little removed from -the beach, where it was easy to form a dam; and with -one good load upon the old horse, fastened in the -folded net, the lads set off on foot, long before daylight, -from the beach, and speedily were at their -father's cottage-door with this earnest of their booty.</p> - -<p>"Whoa hoa!" cried Tom aloud to the old horse, -almost before it was time to stop; and his mother, -who was already in front of her cottage, lifted up her -closed hand, and shook it, and cried, "Hush, bairn,—whisht, -whisht!—thy fayther will hear thee, and -what's to be done then?"</p> - -<p>But Tom was neither to be hushed nor whished. -"Tell my fayther to get up, and take Dick and -Will with him to fetch the rest o' the brits and rays, -while Jack and I have some breakfast, for we are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span> -hungry above a bit," he said; and he tumbled the -fish out of the net, and told his mother they had left -ten times as many in the crike. What cared Tom -whether his father felt inclined to scold or not? He -knew that the booty would silently and overwhelmingly -plead his pardon. And oh, the trembling joy -and pride of the poor mother,—her thoughts of -large pecuniary relief and admiration of her child's -noble act, combining, and causing her to prattle with -so much elation that she scarcely knew what she -said!</p> - -<p>Seven pounds, in sterling English money, Tom's -poor father made of his child's night adventure: a -sum he had never approached for one day's, no, nor -one week's labour in his little boat, since he had -possessed it. Need it be said that Tom's father was -proud of him? He loved all his children: they and -his wife were his jewels, his only idols in the world; -and to picture truly his yearnings for their happiness, -as he cast a thought towards his cottage, or counted -his boys by their little red caps, toiling, meanwhile, -afar off from the beach where the children straggled -sometimes at great distances from each other, at their -hardy employ,—to tell what truly exalted thinkings -passed hourly through the mind of that poor fisherman, -tossed upon the surge often a whole day without -a fragment of gain, and yet clinging with glowing love -to his wife and children on land,—oh, it would form -a theme to kindle the sweetest eloquence of the gentle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span> -yet godlike Shakspere himself! But it was natural -that Tom should become his father's peculiar pride, -for he was, indeed, a child to be proud of.</p> - -<p>It was, therefore, a melancholy sound, the first -request of that heroic boy, when he became fourteen—a -sorrowful note in the ears of his doting -parents—that he might become a sailor, and leave -them! The father and mother exchanged a dreary -look, and said nought. It was a request they might -expect, one day or other, for the lad had always -raved about the darling life of a sailor, and he was -now becoming of an age when it was fit he should -enter on such a profession as he intended to follow -for life: but yet they had always put the thought -aside, and clung to the enjoyment of possessing such -a son, and beholding him as "the light of their eyes," -daily. Tom saw and felt what his parents endured -when he presented his first request, and he did not -renew it till another month had flown, and a Boston -sloop was lying off the cockle-sands, laden with -timber from Hull, when he again asked if he might -go for a sailor. This time, however, the question -was put under circumstances which seemed to soften -the dread of separation. Boston was a Lincolnshire -port, and a voyage thither and back, on trial, would -soon be performed, so that they would soon see their -darling again; and therefore his parents gave consent -for Tom's departure.</p> - -<p>The boy became as much the darling of the little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span> -crew in the sloop, during their brief voyage, as he -had been of his father and mother. They gave him -the name which stuck to him through life, as soon as -they had heard his history, to which, indeed, they -were scarcely strangers, for it was not the first time -he had been on board their shallop. And "Cockle -Tom" was proud to tell his new name when he saw -his home again: it had been given him by sailors, -and it was, therefore, more honourable in his estimation -than knighthood or nobility given by a monarch -would have been, had he known of either.</p> - -<p>There was now no putting off the complete separation -from their noblest child for Tom's parents. -He had fully made up his mind to live on the sea, -his darling element: and, besides, he had been to -Hull, the port to which the Boston sloop traded, and -had seen the Greenland whale-ships, and talked with -the sailors till he was all excitement for the noble -daring of joining in an attack upon the vast sea-monsters, -and seeing the mountain icebergs, and -hearing the roaring of the white bears. His father -therefore prepared clothing for the lad, and began to -think of setting out with him for Hull, in order to -see him safely committed, as a sailor-apprentice, to -the care of some kind and fatherly sort of Greenland -captain.</p> - -<p>It was a dull week that young Cockle Tom passed -at home; for, despite his enthusiasm, the complete -separation from his parents was a thought that cut<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span> -him to the quick. Did, then, the fisherman's child, -who had been led forth to endure the cold sea wind, -and labour, and hunger, from infancy, love his -parents? Ay, that did he, and with such a love -as you know nothing of, young spruce, who have -been to boarding-school, and have since become -versed in all the hollownesses of "respectable life." -If there was a sacred corner in Tom's heart, it was -that where the precious images of his father and -mother were enshrined. Toil, fatigue, hunger, pain, -loss of sleep, nay, death itself, he would have encountered -at any moment to benefit them; and, young -as he was, he formed strong judgments on men's characters -who failed in parental duty. He never -swore but once in his life, before leaving home, and -that was when a young farmer in the parish married -a flaunting wife, and gave up his aged father, blind -and palsy-stricken, to be placed in an alms-house. -"D—n his eyes!" exclaimed young Tom, while his -own eyes flashed fire, "I should like to grapple his -weasand, as big as he is!" That was a rude expression, -and a strange one, too, for a boy of fourteen; -but while his mother reproved it with such a look as -she had never given him before,—and he blushed -like scarlet, and promised, with tears in his eyes, -never to swear again,—yet she read within Tom's -heart, by the aid of those few syllables, the existence -of a principle which, she felt, more truly ennobled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> -her child than the highest earthly titles would have -aggrandised him.</p> - -<p>It was some relief to young Tom to reflect that his -parents were now in comparatively comfortable circumstances, -and chiefly through his means. The ice -of timidity once broken, Jack had become more adventurous, -and within one year, by the joint efforts -of the two brothers, so great an increase took place -in the fish the father had to offer for sale, that he -was enabled to buy the little cottage in which he -lived, with the garden adjoining, as well as to clothe -his whole family. The next year furnished a new -and larger boat, and an extra horse, besides stocking -the little purse of the father with a few spare guineas -in gold—the noble old spade-aces which "looked so -much like <i>real</i> money," as our forefathers used to say, -when they first saw the queer, "fly-away-blow-away" -paper money.</p> - -<p>Did they cry—Tom, or his mother—when the -separation came? Ay, and brothers, and sisters, -and father too, as he was about to depart with him—real -tears, to be sure; for, as much like their native -oaks as our genuine old English race were in their -hardihood and endurance of storms, their hearts were -of the tenderest—in the right place. A still severer -feeling of desolation was experienced by Tom and -his father when they parted at Hull; but Tom -"girt up the loins of his mind," and buried his sorrow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span> -in listening to the sailors' talk, and in thinking -of his coming adventures.</p> - -<p>And now "the history of Cockle Tom" may end; -for our purpose is not to write a long story, but to -show how a simple and yet truly noble character may -be formed: and that purpose is accomplished as -well as we are able to reach it. For the remainder -of Cockle Tom's life,—it was that of the true English -sailor,—full of generosity and noble daring, -shaded, here and there, with a dash of passion, or a -fit of insobriety at the end of a long voyage of suffering, -but tinted to brilliancy with many an act of -exalted sacrifice. Five voyages Cockle Tom made to -Greenland, or the Straits; three to the West Indies, -and one to the East; six times he passed through the -Straits of Gibraltar and visited Malta, or Corfu, or -Constantinople; and four times he voyaged to the -Guinea coast, ere he reached the age of thirty. That -was the limit of his life; but he had saved as many -lives as he numbered years by that time. As an -expert swimmer,—as a soul that would venture even -into the jaws of death to save a drowning man,—as -a shipmate that would always take the severer share -of toil and ease another,—as an agile and clever -mariner that was unexcelled in the rapidity and perfection -with which he could execute any manoeuvre in -the management of his ship,—as the heart of fun and -merriment,—and as the lad whose purse was ever -at the command of a brother in need,—Cockle Tom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> -was the glory and pride of every "true British tar" -who knew him.</p> - -<p>And how fresh did his filial love remain amidst -separation and newness of scene! His father and -mother kept that sacred corner in his heart, perfectly -unrivalled, for many a long year; and when -he admitted another fair image there it was not -allowed to encroach upon the consecrated room occupied -by the old ones. He loved his wife, whom -he married at five-and-twenty, and she deserved his -love; but he did not love his parents the less for -that. They received many a solid proof of his affection, -although they seldom saw him; and the news -of his death, though it did not distract them with -unseemly grief, dimmed the brightness of their declining -days.</p> - -<p>Cockle Tom lay in harbour at Hull, after his return -from the fourth Guinea voyage: his vessel was -delivered of its cargo: a friend had written "home" -for him,—for his father's cottage was "home" -with him, even after he had married and had a little -neat house in Hull. On the morrow, his young wife -and himself were to have set out to see his aged -parents once more, when, in the fineness of the -evening, while numerous pleasure-boats were jostling -each other in the narrow space of the harbour, -thronged as it was with large and small craft, one -boat upset, and five human lives were in danger. In -a moment, Tom had plunged from the deck where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> -he stood, and the next moment had placed two in -safety in one of the boats: a second struggle, and -two more were rescued; but, in attempting to save -the last, the dying struggler, or the cramp, overpowered -him, and he sunk to rise no more! Such -was the consistent end of the life of Cockle Tom,—the -"true British sailor."</p> - -<p>"A bold peasantry, their country's pride," are -fast fading: may our other twin jewel in English national -character—the noble sailor—ever preserve its -lustre!</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><span class="small">THE</span><br /> -LAST DAYS OF AN OLD SAILOR;<br /> -<span class="small">OR,<br /> -"BUTTER YOUR SHIRT!<br /> -SING TANTARA-BOBUS, MAKE SHIFT!"</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Among the few survivors of our "glorious" sea-fights -which the Peace sent home to Gainsbro', a busy -little port on the Trent, was old Matthew Hardcastle, -a veteran of threescore and ten, and something more. -It was said that Matthew might have been discharged -from ship-board some years earlier; but his attachment -to the sea was extreme, and he was at length, -to speak plainly, forced out of the navy.</p> - -<p>Gainsbro' was, at that particular period, somewhat -fertile in the production of eccentric folk, for Joe -Hornby was then to be seen in it, with his hat stuck -full of field flowers, and sometimes, to the peril of -its "crown," fixed on his head wrong side upwards, -because "the world was turned upside down;" and -the septuagenarian spinster, Nelly Fish, might be -seen flaunting along the narrow causeway, her strange -pile of five or six straw hats, which she wore one -upon another, to show that "she knew all the fashions<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span> -that had been, as well as those that were;"—and Martin -Jackson would, ever and anon, sally forth in some -odd guise that demonstrated his lunacy; for to-day -he might be seen covered with papers on which were -written all kinds of queer criticisms on the rulers of the -day, and to-morrow he would go through the streets -clad in his wife's chemise for an outer robe, and wearing -an old horseman's helmet with a fox's tail for a plume, -while half-a-dozen terriers yelped away at his heels, -following thick and fast to the mad hunter's cries of -"Yo-ho! yo-ho! Hark forward! Tantivy! Yo-ho! -yo-ho!"</p> - -<p>Such were some of the strange relics of humanity -which afforded grave problems for those who were -able to moralise, or thought they were, at that time, -in Gainsbro'; but, amidst all and sundry of its human -catalogue, none of the curious articles thereof attracted -more general attention, as they passed to and -fro in the streets of the little town, than the veteran -warrior-seaman, Matthew Hardcastle. Indeed, Matthew -was beheld, by "gentle and simple," in a different -light to the eccentrics, poor things! before -mentioned. The world, in spite of its conviction that -it is wrong to laugh, laughs on at the antics and -whims of the helpless beings it calls "insane;" and -Gainsbro' followed the way of the world in laughing, -too often, at poor Joe Hornby, and Nelly Fish, and -Martin Jackson; but it was by no means a custom to -laugh at Matthew Hardcastle.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span></p> - -<p>Matthew was a tall, well-built old fellow, and did -not lose an inch of his height, notwithstanding his -very advanced age. His brave face resembled more -the gnarled bark of an old oak than any other thing -that ever existed; it was a real sea-faring face, was -Matthew's, if ever a man wore one in this world. -And then his wig! All the town talked of Matthew -Hardcastle's wig. It did not fall below the shoulders, -like the princely-looking old wigs of the days of -Marlborough; but it was a very grand, burly wig, -for all that. It reached below the ears of the fine old -man, considerably; and it displayed five tiers of -curls,—glorious curls they were! Matthew's grand -three-cocked hat, too,—for he and old George Laughton, -the currier, with his soul of independence, and -Charley Careless, the little high-spirited silversmith, -were the three last men in Gainsbro' who refused to put -away the splendid head-covering of their forefathers -for the paltry upper gear of modern times,—Matthew's -three-cocked hat stood higher behind than it -did before, and, conjoined with the grandeur of his -wig, caused Matthew to look as bold and imposing as -a brigadier major! And whoever met Matthew on -the causeway, rocking as he went with a regular -naval kind of motion, and supporting his aged steps -by a bamboo in either hand, was sure to say, "Good -morning to you, Matthew! I hope you are quite -well this morning!" if they were considered to be his -equals or superiors in rank; while all the little boys<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> -and girls were wont to stop and bow or courtesy to -him, and say, "Your sarvant, Matthew!" Such was -the real honour paid to the aged sailor who had fought -"the battles of his country," as they were called.</p> - -<p>The time came, however, when all this show of -respect to the brave old sailor ceased, for he lived too -long! Twenty more years made his age hard upon -one hundred. That was a rare age to live; but it -would have been better for Matthew if he had died -ten years earlier, for he lived till the effects of the -"glorious" battles in which he had been engaged -began to be felt—and felt grievously, even in that -district, which you will deem comparatively happy -when viewed after your mind's eye has been dwelling -on the fathomless miseries of our dense hives of manufacture. -He lived till hungry and ragged labourers -began to stand daily in melancholy groups, and with -folded arms, in the streets, and till the parish authorities -began to talk of pulling down the old workhouse, to -build a new "bastile" on the lovely green spot where -the children used to resort to play at sand-mills!</p> - -<p>Matthew felt the change in the "civilisation," as -it was called, of the times, sensibly, as old as he was; -but there was an inexhaustible spring of vivacity in -the old seaman's noble nature, and in spite of age, -infirmities, and bad times, Matthew Hardcastle was -the merriest, as well as the oldest man in Gainsbro'. -"Butter your shirt, sing tantara-bobus make shift!" -Matthew would say, morning, noon, and night, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span> -the poor would be uttering their plaints in his ears; -and the whimsical saying, together with the jolly old -fellow's way of uttering it, many a time turned the -mourning of his neighbours into mirth.</p> - -<p>One day, a stranger heard this singular saying, as -he was journeying through the town, and passing by -the street end of the alley where Matthew was leaning -on his two sticks to take the evening air, and chatting -with his neighbours, according to his custom. The -traveller could not fail to be struck with the saying, -for he had heard it before; and he had seen the -veteran who uttered it before, though it was many a -long year since. The traveller stopped, and gazed on -the old sailor for a moment or two, and then stretched -out his aged hand—for he, too, was an old man—to -grasp the hand of his ancient friend.</p> - -<p>"Matthew Hardcastle! what, old Matthew!" he -exclaimed.</p> - -<p>Matthew stared, and seemed at a loss for a few -seconds; but, at length, he let one stick fall, as it -were mechanically, and, clasping his old friend's hand -with the hearty gripe of a true sailor, cried aloud, -while the fire of his youth seemed once more to -gleam from his eyes,—</p> - -<p>"What! Paul Perkins! God bless thy heart! -Why, I thought—but God bless thy heart and soul, -how art thou?—I thought thou hadst gone to Davy's -locker ten or fifteen years ago!"</p> - -<p>"And I little thought that ever these old eyes were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> -again to look upon Matthew Hardcastle," replied -Paul; "why, Lord save us, you must be an amazing -age! I am nearly threescore and ten, but you were -a man in your prime when I was but little older than -a child, you know."</p> - -<p>"Butter your shirt, sing tantara-bobus make -shift!" answered jolly old Matthew; "what matters -it how old one may be? We shall live till we die—kill -us that dare!" And the pair of sound-hearted -old tars burst into a merry laugh that came up so -clearly from the well-spring of their hearts as to -create a kindred merriment through the curious crowd, -which had by this time begun to gather round them, -in the narrow street.</p> - -<p>"Well, but come, shipmate, this must not be a -dry meeting," said Paul; "suppose we step into the -Red Lion, or the Black Horse, that I see on the -signs here, hard by, and wet our whistles together, -once more. It may be for the last time, you know, -in this world."</p> - -<p>"Avast, heaving!" replied Matthew; "I have no -objection for Molly Crabtree, here, to fetch us a jack -of rum or so, and we can have it in my little berth; -but my old head won't bear the racket of a public-house -now, Paul."</p> - -<p>"Well, well, have it your own way, Mat," replied -the other; and the two ancient men adjourned, -as fast as their stiffened limbs would permit them, to -Matthew's little dwelling in the alley.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span></p> - -<p>Matthew's hammock—for he could never be persuaded -to sleep in a bed—was slung at one corner of -the narrow room, and just under it was placed his -arm-chair. He would fain have given up his usual -seat, on this occasion, to his friend; but Paul Perkins -had too much real and untaught courtesy to accept -of it.</p> - -<p>"No, no, keep on board your own ship, Matthew," -he cried; "I won't do any such thing: sit ye down, -sit ye down."</p> - -<p>And so Matthew sat down, with this entreaty, -and reared his two sticks against the wall, and doffed -his rare hat, and showed his wig in all its glory. -Paul looked round the room, and could not help -indulging in the natural exultation of a sailor. Nelson, -and Howe, and Duncan, and Rodney, showed their -gallant faces, according to the best skill of some humble -limner, over the little mantelpiece: a fine model of a -first-rate man-of-war—the work of Matthew's own -fingers in his younger days—stood, in unapproachable -pride, upon a little dresser on the opposite side -of the dwelling; and, above it, a curious tobacco-pipe, -from some foreign shore, curled its enormous length -around three or four nails driven into the wall, and -displayed the painted image of a black-a-moor's head, -at its extremity. Other odd fragments of a sailor's -fondness, such as small carved "figure-heads" of -vessels, wrought with the pocket-knife, to relieve -hours of tedium, pouches of kangaroo-skin, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span> -favourite repositories of the sailor's favourite weed, -pipe-stoppers of bone, cut into grotesque shapes, -and such-like nick-knackeries decorated the walls, -till scarcely a bare patch of them could be seen.</p> - -<p>"Well, and I suppose you're at home here, Mat, -eh?" said Paul, his face beaming with pleasure as he -asked the question.</p> - -<p>A sudden and unwonted shade came over Matthew's -countenance: "Hum!" said he, gloomily, "liked -the old Dreadnought better; but she's now—God -bless her!—only a hull, like me. But butter your -shirt!" cried the gallant-hearted old fellow, bursting -into his prevailing gaiety,—"sing tantara-bobus make -shift! we shall live till we die—kill us that dare!" -And again the old lads set up a merry laugh in unison, -and were as happy, for the nonce, as the proudest -monarchs in christendom.</p> - -<p>Molly Crabtree now entered with the rum, and -began to prepare the grog, that real nectar for the -sailor. The precious glass was mixed, and went round -over and over again; nor would the old sailors be said -"nay" when Molly looked modest about it: she was -compelled to take a sip each time when it came to her -turn. Old shipmates were named, and the bravery -and virtues of the dead were honoured; hearty and -kind wishes for the welfare of the living were expressed; -old stories were told, and the joys of old -times were recorded with a sigh; but sighing usually -was followed by a laugh amid the utterance of old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span> -Matthew's singular expletive, "Butter your shirt! -sing tantara-bobus make shift!"</p> - -<p>"Upon my honour, Mat," at length said Paul, -for, as it began to grow towards midnight, the phraseology -of the ancient mariners began to grow more consequential,—more -by token that the "jack" of rum -had now been repeated, for the third time—"upon -my honour, Mat, you and I were no skinkers in that -hot action when you first wore the buttered shirt."</p> - -<p>"Why, Lord ha' marcy on us!" cried Molly -Crabtree, who had been listening all along, and -staring like an owl at twilight, during the successive -strange recitals of the two old seafarers,—"did -Matthew ever wear a real buttered shirt, then? For -Heaven's sake tell us the meaning on't!"</p> - -<p>"That I will, ma'am," said Paul touching his hat -as gallantly as an admiral; "you see, it was during -a severe engagement with the Dutchmen that -Mat and I were ordered to the main-top,—but -hardly had we reached it, when a shot from the -enemy cut our mainmast fairly in two, and hurled us -both on to the enemy's deck, in the midst of more than -a hundred heavy-bottomed Dutchmen! To dream of -fighting against such odds, ma'am, you'll understand -was, of course, out of all question; so we quietly -walked our bodies, to the tune of 'donner and -blitzen,' down below, to become close prisoners under -hatches. Now it so happened, d'ye see, ma'am? that -the only fellow-prisoners we found in the hole where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span> -they crammed us were cheeses and queer big tubs; -and we felt a nat'ral sort of a curiosity to rummage -about the hole, when left in the dark by ourselves. -Clambering up some o' these huge tubs at one end -of the hole, we both lost footing together, and fell -head over heels into the midst of something that was -remarkably soft; and there we struggled, and -struggled hard, too,—but 'twas all in vain, we could -not flounder out,—and so were content to remain -closed on all sides up to the neck, with just our heads -bobbing out, and gasping for breath. Shiver my -timbers, if ever I was so pickled before or since! -At length the Dutchman was taken; and when some -of our lads made their way into the dark hole where -we were, we began to hail 'em."—"Dreadnought -a-hoy!" said Mat: "The Union Jack a-hoy!" said -I: "Who's there, in the devil's name?" cried one: -"Why that's old Mat Hardcastle's growl—where -the devil is he?" said first one of our lads and then -another. And, as sure as you're there, ma'am," -continued Paul, growing more polite and gallant as -he proceeded, "what with one noise or another, it -wasn't until the lads had driven their marling-spikes -through almost every cask in the hole, that Mat and -I were discovered up to the neck in one of the Dutchmen's -big butter firkins. We were a good deal -ashamed, ma'am, o' course, being as how we were -soaked to the skin in the grease, for it warmed, as we -stuck in it; and no doubt by its melting, we should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span> -ha' been able to have got out of it without help, if we -had had to stay much longer before we had been -found. The worst of it was, we could not get time -to strip for some hours after, and this made us both -mighty uneasy, for many was the joke that was -passed upon us as to how we liked our buttered -shirts. But Mat's heart was always light, all his -life long; and he answered all who asked that saucy -question, just as he puts by all sorrow now, with -"Butter <i>your</i> shirt! Sing tantarara-bobus make -shift!—and ever since then Matthew has kept his -saying; and it is not a bad one, either, let me tell -you, ma'am! what think ye?" concluded Paul -Perkins, and took a stiffer pull at the grog than he -had ever done that night, thinking that he deserved -it for his cleverness, and feeling himself entitled to -a double pull because he had missed his turn by -telling this yarn.</p> - -<p>Molly Crabtree only answered with a hearty laugh, -and Paul laughed too, but Matthew laughed louder -and longer than either of them, for he was 'a practised -laugher, and lived by it,' as he used jokingly to say. -But now the fourth measure of grog was done, and -it was too late to buy more; so the conversation -began to grow less boisterous. Molly rose to depart; -and the two veterans were left by themselves. Paul -urged Matthew to get into his hammock, and Matthew -urged Paul; but neither could prevail on the -other, and so at last they fairly fell asleep in their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span> -chairs, and neither of them awoke,—though they each -snored as loud as a rhinoceros,—until Molly Crabtree -came and opened the shutters some hours after sunrise -the ensuing morning. Their limbs were tolerably -stiff, and their heads ached beyond a joke, it may -easily be guessed, for it was many a long day since -either of them had gone to sleep groggy. They -made the best of their aches and pains, however, -when they awoke, and, after a hearty renewed gripe -of friendship, thrust each a lumping quid of tobacco -into his mouth, and then quietly awaited the preparation -of breakfast by Molly Crabtree.</p> - -<p>Now, as natural as our forefathers always reckoned -it to be to get drunk, or, at least, tipsy, with an -old friend, when you met him after a long absence -or separation, yet it was always felt to be not less -natural that the cosy companions of the preceding -night talked like sober men the next morning. So -it was with Matthew Hardcastle and Paul Perkins.</p> - -<p>"Matthew,—I've been thinking," began Paul, -very measuredly, as he was sipping the cocoa-sop out -of a bright brown earthen porringer, with a spoon, in -imitation of his host,—"I've been thinking,—we -shall soon be in our last port."</p> - -<p>"True, very true," said Matthew, "and, d'ye know, -Paul? I would not much care if we had the same -voyage to go again, save and except a little at the -end on't."</p> - -<p>"Then we don't think alike," said Paul, dropping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span> -his spoon into the porringer, and looking thoughtful: -"I'm sure, Mat, you'll bear me witness that I'm no -skinkerly coward; but, splice me, if I don't think -that all this warring and fighting, and blowing up of -poor men's limbs is, after all, a great piece of wickedness. -And, besides that, I've thought very much -of late,—and particularly since I've seen the times -change so much,—that this setting of poor Englishmen -on to fight poor foreigners, and poor foreigners -to fight poor Englishmen, is only a deep scheme, on -the part of the rich abroad and the rich at home, to -keep the poor down."</p> - -<p>"Say you so, Paul?" exclaimed Matthew, also -resting his spoon on the brim of the porringer, and -looking very intently upon his friend; "why, you -know, Paul, if we had not gone to fight the foreigners, -they would have come to fight us."</p> - -<p>"But who amongst 'em was it that wanted to -fight? just think of that, Matthew," rejoined Paul, -very earnestly. "You and I had no quarrel with the -French, or the Dutch, or the Spaniard, you know. -And what poor foreigners, think you, had any quarrel -with the people here? No, no, depend on it, -Matthew, the poor never made these wars, nor ever -thought of fighting, or wished to fight, on either -side: it was the rich—'our betters,' as they are -called—who began the quarrel, and then pushed us, -or dragged us, into it, to lose our limbs, or shed our -blood, or escape if we could."</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span></p> - -<p>"'Pon my word," said Matthew, shaking his wig, -very significantly, "I've had some such thoughts as -these now and then,—and you're making a strong -yarn on't, Paul, I confess,—but what's the use of -muddling one's old brains with such things? You -know what I always say, Paul,—'Butter your -shirt——"</p> - -<p>"Nay, but avast a bit, Mat," said Paul, looking -invincibly serious; "we are getting fast into our -last port, as I said before; and, if we have been unthinking -fools all our lives, I don't see why we -should not open our eyes and look about us a bit, -before we step on the last shore. Times are harder -now than ever you and I knew 'em; and, as much -fuss as there used to be made about an old seaman, -all that sort of thing is gone. I question if you -and I live a few years longer, and grow cranky,—and, -God knows, I begin to feel queer, night and -morning,—but folks will grow weary of waiting on us, -and the parish wolves will haul us away to the workhouse, -and pocket our little pensions."</p> - -<p>"God Almighty forbid!" ejaculated Matthew, -very fervently.</p> - -<p>"But 'tis very likely to come to pass, however, let -me tell you," rejoined Paul; "you knew Jerry -Simpson: he was berthsman with us, if you remember, -and lost an arm at Trafalgar. He wouldn't -go into Greenwich college, but went and settled in -Shoreditch, with his old sister. She died two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span> -twelvemonths ago, and poor old Jerry soon grew -helpless—so they took him into the parish poor-house, -pocketing his pension, and he died there, of -sheer grief, about six months ago. That was a rum -reward for fighting for his country so bravely as -Jerry did——"</p> - -<p>"By G—d it was!" exclaimed old Matthew, -involuntarily—for the fine old fellow had not uttered -an oath for years before: "the Lord ha' mercy -upon me for swearing, poor old sinner that I am!" -he continued:—"but you don't say that that's true -about Jerry Simpson, do you, Paul? why he used -to rush into a gun-boat like a ravenous wolf! -Shiver my old timbers! but a braver sailor than -Jerry never stepped upon deck!"</p> - -<p>"'Pon the word of a sailor, what I have said is -true," replied Paul, "for I saw it with my own -sorrowful eyes. But now don't you perceive, Matthew," -resumed Paul, eager to take advantage of the -impression this fact had made, "that the change in -the state of things is owing to the heavy taxes caused -by the war, and——"</p> - -<p>"Why, you see, Paul, I don't understand these -things," said Matthew, impatiently; "but I feel -you are right about us poor dogs never wishing to -bite the foreigners—for I never had such a thought -till I got on board ship. But why is it that great -folks wish to shed blood at such a rate? What do -they want, and what would they have? 'Zounds!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span> -if I have but my bit o' bacco, and can rest at night, -I'm as happy as any of 'em. And then, again, Paul, -why is it—excuse me, Paul, if I seem to talk -foolish; I'm older than you, but you always had -more book larning, I'm well aware—why is it that -the poor don't let the rich fight their battles themselves, -if they want any fighting?"</p> - -<p>"Why, there, now, you old billy-goat!" exclaimed -Paul, laughing; "you know that both you -and I were dragged off by the press-gang, just as we -were about to step on shore at Wapping; and were -not thousands hauled away, in the same manner, -throughout the war? 'Why is it that we don't let -'em fight their own battles themselves' indeed! why, -you know, Mat, the poor dogs are compelled to obey -the rich ones, in this world. What I want you to see -is that the rich dogs make these wars on purpose to -keep the poor dogs under. And yet I don't know, -Matthew, that either you or I can alter things: it is -past our time o' life; and, besides, I believe the -whole consarn will before long tumble to pieces of -itself, for the world's about tired of it."</p> - -<p>"Blow me!" exclaimed Matthew, completely wearied -of the subject, and anxious to resume his usual -careless and happy vein, "if I can see the use of all -your palaver, Paul: you may be right, in the main, -but then you make no sail, take as many tacks as you -will. You still end by saying the poor dogs are -forced to bark and bite as the rich dogs bid 'em;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span> -and you own that we're both too old to do aught -towards bettering things; and, besides, you say the -consarn's doomed to fall to pieces by its own rottenness; -and so, instead of bothering my old brains -about it, I still say, as I did when we got out of the -Dutchmen's firkin, 'Butter your shirt! sing tantarara-bobus -make shift!'"</p> - -<p>The argument was ended with a hearty laugh on -both sides, for, as toughly as Paul had spun his yarn, -it was clear, from his last observation, that he was -beginning to esteem his work as "labour in vain." -That day and another passed in calling old times to -mind; and, on the fourth day, the two ancient -friends and fellows in many a storm and broil, -parted, never to meet again on the lee-shore of -Time.</p> - -<p>Old Matthew Hardcastle kept up his gaiety of -heart till his last day, though that day was, to the -full, as doleful as his trusty friend Paul Perkins had -prognosticated it would be. Reader,—if ever it -falls in your way to visit old Gainsbro', you will -learn that, in the main, what I am about to relate is -too true. In proportion as Matthew became helpless, -people were wearied with waiting upon him; -and, disgraceful to relate! the old warrior-seaman -was, at length, neglected till his aged body swarmed -with filth. Instead of respect, disgust was now expressed -for him, by an unreasonable world. Paul -Perkins' prophecy came true to the letter: the parish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span> -"worthies" came to "take care of him;" they took -him to the poor-house; he was stripped stark-naked -in the wash-house; and cold water was "swabbed," -as he himself would have said, upon his aged body -to cleanse him! Even in that moment, the brave -companion of Howe and Nelson strove to keep up -the gaiety of his noble heart, and once essayed his old -saying, "Butter your shirt! sing"——But his aged -lips quivered, and his jaws chattered with the cold,—and -his bold old heart broke with the barbarous -treatment he was undergoing!</p> - -<p>Oh! this is a world of wrong; and it will take -a great deal of effort to right it, if ever it be righted -at all. Reader! if you even think, with Paul -Perkins, that the bad system under which so many -groan, will, at length, fall to pieces by virtue, or -rather by the vice, of its own imperfections,—is it -not, still, sensible and philanthropic to be doing what -little we can to hasten what we feel to be "a consummation -devoutly to be wished?"</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>DOROTHY PYECROFT'S PREACHING;<br /> -<span class="small">OR,<br /> -"CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME."</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>All the world, in the village of Sturton-le-Steeple, -had said so, before the time of old Dorothy Pyecroft; -but Dorothy did not join all the world in saying so. -Sturton is a homely little place, situate in the pleasant -shire of Nottingham, and lying within a couple -of miles of the Trent, and old Lincolnshire; and -its church steeple forms a pretty object in the landscape -which you view from the hills above Gainsboro'. -Dorothy Pyecroft, from the time that she was a child -but the height of a table, went to Gainsboro' market -with butter, eggs, or poultry, as regularly as Tuesday -returned in each week; for the hearty old dame used -commonly to boast that she had never known what -it was to have a day's illness in her life, although, at -the season we are beginning to gossip about, she was -full threescore and ten. It was a bonny sight to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span> -the dame go tripping o'er the charming lea which -spreads its flowery riches from Sturton-le-Steeple to -the banks of noble Trent, by four of the clock on a -gay summer's morning, with the clean milking-pail -under her arm, that was bare to the elbow. You -would have thought, at a distance, she had been -some blithe maiden in her teens. And then the -cheerful and clear tone in which she summoned her -cows, calling to them as kindly as if they were her -children—"Come, my pratty creatures!" a call that -was the signal for a treat of pleasing pastoral music -to the enthusiastic early angler on the Trent: the -rich, varied "low" of the cows,—alto, tenor, and -bass,—answered that call, in changeful echo across -the stream; the angler's delighted ear caught a -treble, heavenward, from the matin lark, to complete -the "harmony;" and even the cackling of the geese, -uttering their confused joy at the sound of the dame's -voice, seemed to mingle no unpleasing "discord" -with the natural chorus. By the time that her -morning's milking was over, the spoilt maidens of -the village were only beginning to open their kitchen -window-shutters; and she usually passed the whole -train of them, loitering and chattering about their -sweethearts, on their way to the lea, as she returned -home, with the rich load upon her head, and her -arms fixed as properly a-kimbo as could be shown by -the sprightliest lass that ever carried a milking-pail. -Some little shame was commonly felt among the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> -loiterers as they passed the exemplary old woman,—but -it did not result in their reformation. Old -Farmer Muxloe, who was always abroad at daybreak, -and usually chatted a few moments with the -dame just at the point where the footpath crossed -the bridle-way over the lea, often commented, in no -very measured terms, on the decline of discipline -among milk-maids since the days when he was a -lad.</p> - -<p>"Ah, dame!" he used to say, "there have been -sore changes since you and I used to take a turn -around the maypole; I'm sure the world gets lazier -and lazier every day."</p> - -<p>"Why, you see, neighbour, fashions change," the -old dame would reply—for she ever loved to take the -more charitable side of a question; "maybe, things -may change again, and folk may take to getting up -earlier, after a few more years are over."</p> - -<p>"I'faith, I've little hope on't," the old farmer -would reply, and shake his head, and smile; "but -there's nobody like thee, Dolly, for taking the kindest -side."</p> - -<p>"Why, neighbour, I always think it the best," -Dorothy would rejoin, with a benevolent smile; "I -never saw things grow better by harsh words and -harsh thinkings, in my time."</p> - -<p>And then the old farmer would smile again, and -say, "Well, well, that's just like thee! God bless -thee, Dolly, and good morning to thee!" and away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span> -he would turn Dobbin's head, and proceed on his -usual morning's ride from field to field.</p> - -<p>The work of her little dairy, added to the care of -a humble household, composed of an infirm and helpless -husband, and an equally infirm maiden sister,—with, -all and sundry, a stout house-dog, two tabby-cats, -and a fruitful poultry-yard,—usually occupied -Dorothy Pyecroft through the bustling forenoon of -each day; and when there was no immediate call -upon her skill and benevolence among sick neighbours,—for -she was the cleverest herb-woman in -the village, and exercised her knowledge of the -healing art without fee, or willing acceptance even of -thanks,—she would sit in her polished high-backed -chair, and work through the livelong afternoon at -her spinning-wheel, drowsing her two infirm companions -into a salutary rest and forgetfulness with the -humming monotony of her labour, but revolving -within her own mind many a useful and solemn -thought, meanwhile.</p> - -<p>Dorothy sat absorbed in this her favourite employ, -one afternoon in autumn, when an itinerant pedlar -made his customary call at the cottage-door. The -dame's mind was so deeply involved in the contrivance -of one of her little plans of benevolence, that -she did not recognise the face of the traveller until -he had addressed her twice.</p> - -<p>"Any small wares for children? any needles, pins, -or thimbles?" cried the pedlar, running through the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span> -list of his articles with the glibness of frequent repetition.</p> - -<p>"No, Jonah: I want none," replied the dame, -kindly; "but, maybe, you'll take a horn o' beer, and -a crumb or two o' bread and cheese?"</p> - -<p>The pedlar assented, well pleased, and lowered -the pack from his shoulders, and set down the basket -from his hand, next seating himself in a chair without -the ceremonial of asking, and in all the gladsome -confidence of welcome.</p> - -<p>"Thank you, thank you, dame," he said, and -smacked his lips with pleasurable anticipation, as he -took the horn of smiling beer and the piece of bread -and cheese from the dame's hand.</p> - -<p>"You're welcome, Jonah," replied the dame, -heartily. "Have you walked far to-day? and what -luck have you had?"</p> - -<p>"I've come twenty miles, and have never taken -handsel yet, dame," answered Jonah, in a melancholy -tone.</p> - -<p>"So, poor heart!" said Dorothy, very pitifully; -"I must buy a trifling dozen of needles of thee, -however, before thou goest. I fear times are hard, -Jonah: I hear many and grievous complaints."</p> - -<p>"Times are harder than ever I knew them to be, -dame, I assure you," rejoined Jonah; "and they -that have a little money seem most determined to -hold it fast. Sore murmurings are made about this -by poor folk: but I don't wonder at it, myself," concluded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span> -the worldly pedlar, "for, in such sore times -as these, there's no knowing what a body may come -to want: and, as the old saying goes, you know, -dame, 'Charity begins at home!'"—and Jonah buried -his nose in the ale-horn, thinking he had said something -so wisely conclusive that it could not be contradicted.</p> - -<p>"They say it was a parson who first used that -saying," observed Dorothy, glancing from her wheel, -very keenly, towards the pedlar; "but, for my part, -Jonah, I am very far from thinking it such a saying -as a parson ought to use."</p> - -<p>"Say you, dame?" said Jonah, opening his eyes -very wide.</p> - -<p>"Did charity begin at home with their master?" -said Dorothy, by way of explanation.</p> - -<p>"Ah, dame!" said the pedlar, quickly discerning -Dorothy's meaning, "I fear but few parsons think -of imitating their master now-a-days!"</p> - -<p>"That's more than I like to say," observed the -gentle Dorothy; "I think there are more good -people in the world than some folk think for;—but -I'm sure, Jonah, we all want a better understanding -of our duty towards each other."</p> - -<p>"Right, Dame Dorothy, right!—that's the best -sort of religion; but there's the least of it in this -world," rejoined the pedlar.</p> - -<p>"Why, Jonah," continued the good dame, "I -think there might easily be a great deal more good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span> -in the world than there is. Every body ought to -remember how many little kindnesses it is in their -power to perform for others, without any hurt to -themselves."</p> - -<p>"Yes, a sight o'good might be done in that way, -dame," observed the pedlar, beginning very much to -admire Dorothy's remarks; "and how much more -happy the world would be then!"</p> - -<p>"Just so!" exclaimed Dorothy, her aged face -beaming with benevolence; "that is the true way -of making the world happy, for all to be trying to -do their fellow-creatures some kindness. And then, -you see, Jonah, when once the pleasure of thus acting -began to be felt, there would soon be a pretty general -willingness to make greater efforts, and even -sacrifices of self-interest, as it is wrongly called, in -order to experience greater pleasure, and likewise to -increase the world's happiness."</p> - -<p>"Truly, dame," said the pedlar, "you do me good -to hear you talk. I'm but a poor scholar; yet I can -tell, without book, that you must be right."</p> - -<p>"But then, you see, Jonah," continued the dame, -half unconscious of Jonah's last observation, "if -every body were to say, 'Charity begins at home,' -this general happiness would never begin. I like -best, Jonah, to think of the example of the Blessed -Being who came into the world to do us all good. -He went about pitying the miserable and afflicted,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span> -and healing and blessing them. Charity did not -begin at home with him, Jonah!"</p> - -<p>The tears were now hastening down Jonah's rough -cheeks. How forcible are lessons of goodness! how -irresistibly the heart owns their power! Jonah could -not support the conversation further. Dorothy's plain -and unaffected remarks sunk deep in to his bosom; and -when he rose up, and buckled on his pack once more, -and the aged dame gave him "handsel," or first -money for the day, by purchasing a few pins and -needles, the poor pedlar bade her farewell in an -accent that showed he felt more than common thankfulness -for her kindness.</p> - -<p>Alas! this is a world where good impressions are, -too often, speedily effaced by bad ones. Jonah called, -next at the gate of a wealthy squire, and, with hat -in hand, asked for leave to go up to the kitchen-door -and expose his wares to the servants. The squire -refused; and when Jonah pleaded his poverty, and -ventured to remonstrate, the squire frowningly -threatened to set the dogs upon him, if he did not -instantly decamp! Jonah turned away, and bitterly -cursed the unfeeling heart of the rich man,—avowing, -internally, that Dorothy Pyecroft was only a -doating old fool,—for, after all, "Charity begun at -home!"</p> - -<p>Scarcely had the pedlar taken twenty steps from -Dame Dorothy's cottage, ere the village clergyman -knocked at her door. The dame knew the young<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span> -parson's "rap-rap-rap!" It was quick and consequential, -and unlike the way of knocking at a door -used by any one else in Sturton, who thought it necessary -to be so ceremonious as to give notice before -they entered their neighbour's dwelling. Dame Dorothy -ceased her spinning, and rose to open the door, -curtesying with natural politeness, and inviting her -visitor to be seated.</p> - -<p>"Thank ye!" said the parson, raising his brows -superciliously, putting the hook-end of his hunting-whip -to his mouth, and striding about the floor in his -spurred boots; "sit you down, I beg, Dame Pyecroft! -sit you down—I'll not sit, thank ye!"</p> - -<p>"I fear, sir, there is a great deal of suffering at -present," said Dorothy, sitting down, and fixing her -mild blue eyes upon the thoughtless young coxcomb, -and feeling too earnestly in love with goodness to -lose any opportunity of recommending its glorious -lessons.</p> - -<p>"Oh!—suffering!—ay!" observed the young -clergyman, in a tone that showed he did not know -what it was to think seriously: "you know there -always was a difference between the rich and the -poor."</p> - -<p>"But do you not think, sir, that the rich might -lessen the difference between themselves and the -poor, without injuring themselves?" asked Dorothy, -in a tone of mild but firm expostulation.</p> - -<p>"Why, as to that, I can't say exactly," replied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span> -the parson, apparently brought to a halt in his -thoughtlessness, and unable to extricate himself from -the difficulty in which his ignorance placed him; "I -can't say exactly; but, you know, Dame Pyecroft, -some people have nothing to give away, though they -may be better off than many of the poor: with such -people, you know, Dame Pyecroft, the old proverb -holds good, that 'Charity begins at home.'"</p> - -<p>"I am grieved to hear <i>you</i> quote that proverb, -sir," said Dorothy; "I had just been exerting my poor -wits to show that that saying was not a right one, in -the hearing of poor Jonah the pedlar, before your -reverence came in."</p> - -<p>"Not a right saying, Dame Pyecroft? Why, you -know it is a very old-established saying; and I think -it a very shrewd one," rejoined the clergyman.</p> - -<p>"But it is not so old as the New Testament, sir," -replied Dorothy, with a winning smile; "and as -shrewd as it is, do you think, sir, it was ever acted -upon by your Great Master?"</p> - -<p>The young clergyman took his hook-whip from his -mouth, laid it on the table, took out his pocket-handkerchief, -and, blushing up to the eyes, sat down -before he attempted an answer to the good old dame's -meek but powerful question.</p> - -<p>"You will remember, Dame Dorothy," he said, -at length, "that the Saviour was in very different -circumstances to all other human beings that ever -lived."</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span></p> - -<p>"But you will remember, sir," rejoined Dorothy, -in the same mildly pertinacious manner, "that that -Blessed Being said to his disciples, 'I have given -you an example, that ye shall do as I have done to -you: if I have washed your feet, ye ought also to -wash one another's feet.'"</p> - -<p>"Yes: that is very beautiful," said the young -clergyman, feeling the irresistible force of goodness, -and speaking as if he had never read the passage in -the book for himself: "the Saviour's example is -very beautiful."</p> - -<p>"And does not your reverence perceive how easy -and delightful it would be for every one to begin to -follow it?" immediately rejoined Dorothy, taking -advantage of the good impression which, she saw, was -being made on the mind of the young parson; "how -easily might all who have enough give even of their -little superfluity; how easily might we all do each -other kindnesses which would cost us nothing! What -solid pleasure this would bring back upon each of -our hearts; and how surely it would lead us to make -sacrifices, in order to experience the richer pleasure -of doing greater good! Oh, sir," concluded the -good old creature, with a tear that an angel might -envy gliding down her aged and benevolent cheek, -"I cannot think that any one knows the secret of -true happiness who practises the precept—'Charity -begins at home!'"</p> - -<p>The young and inexperienced man gazed with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span> -strange expression at his new and humble teacher. -This was better preaching than he had ever heard -or practised. His heart had been misled, but not -thoroughly vitiated, by a selfish and falsely styled -"respectable" education. He was too much affected -to prolong the conversation then; but he became, -from that time, a pupil at the feet of the aged Dorothy. -His fine manners were laid aside. He became a real -pastor. He was, from that day, more frequently in -the cottages of the poor, twenty times over, than in -the houses of the rich. He distributed of his substance -to relieve the wants of others, and lived himself -upon little. He forgot creeds to preach goodness, -and pity, and mercy, and love. He preached -till he wept, and his audiences wept with him. His -life was an embodiment of the virtues he inculcated. -And when, in the course of five short years, he laid -down his body in the grave, a victim to the earnest -conviction of his mind, the poor crowded around -his hallowed resting-place with streaming eyes, and -loving, but afflicted hearts, wishing they might be -where he was when they died, since they were sure -his presence, they said, of itself would make a -heaven!</p> - -<p>The young clergyman interred Dorothy Pyecroft -but half a year before his own departure; and her -last words were words of thankfulness that ever she -had shown the young man the fallacy of the proverb—"Charity -begins at home."</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><span class="small">THE</span><br /> -MINISTER OF MERCY.</h2> -</div> - -<p>Leicester has the appearance of a new town as you -glance at it, in your rapid course on the Midland -Counties Railway. And, if the "locomotives" halt -for a few minutes at a point on the line where you have -a full view of the goodly borough, the momentary -impression which numerous ancient church-towers -gives you of the real antiquity of the place is soon -effaced by the extensive rows of newly-built houses -that stretch away on every side till they appear to -cover almost the entire populous area on which you -are gazing. Successive gusts of prosperity for -the manufacturers, occurring at various periods -during the last forty years,—too often followed by -severe depressions,—have in fact swelled the town -to more than double its size at the close of the last -century.</p> - -<p>Yet a few days' sojourn in the borough would -afford a lover of antiquity no inferior treat. The -massive wall and arched vaults of a ruin, believed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span> -have formed part of a temple of Janus during the -ages that Britain was under Roman sway,—the -ivied remains of the noble abbey where the imperious -and vice-regal Wolsey "laid his bones,"—the -sternly frowning "Newarke," or entrance-tower -to the castle of the Grantmesnels, Bellomonts, -Blanchmaines, De Montforts, Plantagenets, and other -proud Earls of Leicester,—the solitary wooded -mound on which the castle itself anciently stood,—the -rich minute carving of the old churches,—the -quaint interior of the old town-hall,—the grotesque -exterior of much of the really ancient part of the -town, composed of dwellings striped with timber -and plaster, and decked with ornamented or overhanging -gables,—dwellings wherein the soldiers of -the fated kingly Crookt-back were billeted on the -night before Bosworth-field,—these, and sundry -other features of historic chronicle and change, could -not fail to awaken eager interest in an antiquarian. -Our story, however, concerns itself less with the -outward than the inward, and regards rather the -misery of the living than the pride of the dead.</p> - -<p>Passing along the ancient line of highway from -York to London, from the churchless burial-yard of -St. Leonard, over the old North bridge, revealing -the meandering Soar and the meadows of the old -monks; by the curious Gothic west-door of the very -ancient church of All Saints, that almost compels -you to stop and look at it; and then, by the transverse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span> -streets, where the venerable "high cross" was -taken down but a few years ago, and reaching that -part of the ancient principal line of street called -"Southgate," where modern Goths so lately took -down that most interesting historical relic, the house -in which the last regal Plantagenet slept the night -before his death; (a splendid gable filled with a -world of old English associations, and breathing a -wholesome lesson to despotism from every atom of -its mouldering substance!) the traveller would come -to a ruinous-looking entry of a street on his right, -bearing the chivalrous designation of "Red Cross -Street." At the door of a low, crumbling house -about halfway down this ancient bye-street, a dissenting -minister stopped one winter's evening some -eight-and-twenty years ago, to make his usual call -of duty and benevolence. His gentle knock, however, -was not answered; and, before he could repeat -it, he was saluted hastily by a rich manufacturer, -a member of his congregation, who was passing by -on some business errand.</p> - -<p>"You are the very man I wanted to see," said -the minister in a very earnest tone, seizing the -manufacturer by one arm, as if he feared the man -of business might feel disposed to escape him: "I -want half an hour's conversation with you, sir."</p> - -<p>"But I cannot stay now, sir," replied the manufacturer; -"will you join me in my morning ride in -the gig to-morrow? Do, sir; it will do you good."</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span></p> - -<p>"I will, I will; thank you, sir," answered the -minister, in a quick, nervous way that seemed to be -usual with him; and they shook hands with great -apparent fervour, and bid each other "good night."</p> - -<p>The dissenting minister did not find entrance -into the low, ruined-looking house, until a neighbour -or two had forced open the door. A light was -then brought, and a picture of affecting interest was -revealed. A venerable silver-haired man lay breathing -his last; and by the side of his humble bed, with -folded hands, knelt she who had been the partaker of -his joys and sorrows for sixty years, lost to all consciousness -except that of mental prayer for her departing -husband. The sound of the minister's voice -seemed to arouse her for a moment; but she relapsed -again into complete obliviousness of all things, save -the one absorbing feeling created by the view of that -gasping pallid form that lay before her. So the -minister knelt, likewise; and when the neighbours -who had entered with him had followed his example -he prayed audibly and earnestly, yet so reverently -and pathetically, that, while he prayed and wept, -the neighbours thought themselves in the presence of -some superior being, with a soul of compass to embrace -and bless the whole human race, rather than -a mere mortal. The face of the dying man kindled, -too, with wondrous feeling, when he heard the -sounds of that well-known and beloved voice, though -he had seemed past consciousness but a few moments<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span> -before. And when the minister paused in his petition, -and saw the aged man's look fixed upon him, he -said, with unutterable sweetness and tenderness,—</p> - -<p>"William, my dear old friend, is all well within?—is -your hope still blooming and full of immortality?"</p> - -<p>The aged man raised his withered right hand with -a last effort—waved it thrice—smiled with an ineffable -smile,—and expired!</p> - -<p>The minister was raising the aged and speechless -widow from her kneeling posture, and placing her in -an arm-chair, when her married daughter and several -other neighbours entered the house of death. The -minister recognised the daughter, and, after committing -the widow earnestly to her care, emptied his -waistcoat pocket of the silver it contained, and gave -it, without counting, into the hands of the astonished -young woman, who stood staring, while the good -man snatched up his hat, and, saying "God bless -you all! I'll call again to-morrow: God bless you -all!" hurried away in a moment.——</p> - -<p>A tall, grave-looking man, in the habit of a -gentleman, bowed courteously to the dissenting minister, -as he was turning the corner of the High -Street, and, addressing him by his name, uttered -the customary observations on the severity of the -weather.</p> - -<p>"Ah, my dear sir," spake the dissenting minister, -unable, from the state of his feelings, to answer in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span> -the same strain, "I wish I had had you with me a -quarter of an hour ago."</p> - -<p>"Why, sir?" asked the gentleman.</p> - -<p>"That you might have seen, for yourself, how a -Christian can die," answered the minister.</p> - -<p>"Ah!" replied the gentleman, with a look of serious -concern, "there you, and all truly Christian ministers, -find a field of more exalted enterprise than -the whole world of turmoil and strife, put together, -can furnish. I envy you, my dear sir—I envy you, -more than I can express to you."</p> - -<p>"It is, indeed, a field of exalted, of truly glorious -enterprise, the visiting of death-beds—the pouring -of heavenly consolation into the spirit that is -leaving its frail clay tabernacle, and the gladdening -of the human wretchedness which is left to mourn -and weep," burst forth the good minister, forgetting -that he stood in the bleak, cold, open street, and not -in his pulpit; "but, oh, my good friend, what a -dark, disconsolate scene would your Free-thinking -make of the chamber of death, were it as universally -spread as you wish it to be!"</p> - -<p>"It is there where you always have the advantage -of me, sir," rejoined the gentleman; "I have acknowledged -it, again and again; and I feel the force -of that reflection so powerfully, sometimes, that I -half resolve to spend the remainder of my life in -some scheme of philanthropy, and, meanwhile, join -in persuading men to believe Christianity, although<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span> -I do not believe its historical evidences are worth a -straw——"</p> - -<p>"But that would be wrong, sir!" said the minister -interrupting the other, very earnestly.</p> - -<p>"So I think, sir," continued the gentleman; "and -yet I feel sometimes as if I should become guilty of -a crime by striving to take away what I regard as a -pleasant deceit from men,—their chance, by imbibing -a full confidence in Christianity, of expiring not -merely with calmness, but with rapturous joy and -triumph. Free-thinking will never enable even the -largest intellect, the most highly cultivated man, to -die thus; much less will it give such a death to an -imperfectly educated or ignorant man. But then, I -reflect again, that it would be morally and veritably -criminal in me to join in strengthening what I sincerely -believe to be falsehood."</p> - -<p>"And so it would, sir," said the dissenting minister, -taking the gentleman's arm, who offered it, -that they might walk on to avoid some degree of the -cold; "so it would, sir: it would render you a very -contemptible creature. Let me tell you, sir, that -with all the delight I experience in fulfilling some -little of my duty as a Christian minister, the remembrance -of it would not move me one inch towards the -bed of a dying man with the view of offering him the -consolations of revealed religion—if I believed such -consolations to be a mere farce. I would scorn to -mock him with false hopes. You know how deeply<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span> -I regret your scepticism, my dear sir; but I would -not see you veil it through a spurious tenderness. -No, sir: truth and sincerity are the purest jewels -in human character; even pity and benevolence, -themselves, are gems of inferior water."</p> - -<p>"I wish all Christians were like yourself," said -the gentleman, after a pause of admiration for the -great and good being with whom he felt it a real privilege -to walk; "but I see so little practice of goodness -from the hundreds around me who profess a -religion that enthrones it, that the sight tends much -to confirm me in my old opinions."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, sir," observed the minister, in a very -grave tone, "I must tell you that you will be guilty -of great self-deceit, if you imagine that the wickedness -of hypocrites, or the slackness of lukewarm -professors, will form a valid excuse for your rejection -of Christ's mission, should you, one day, prove it -true."</p> - -<p>"I know it, my dear sir," replied the gentleman; -"I know it well; though I thank you for your kind -and well-meant zeal in reminding me of it. I will -tell you one thought of mine, however,—and it is -one that fixes itself very forcibly before my judgment,—if -callousness to the sufferings of their workmen -continues to increase among the manufacturers -as rapidly as it has increased for the last ten years, -Christianity will be openly scoffed at by the poor of -the next generation, in the very streets where we are -now walking."</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span></p> - -<p>"You have only expressed what I expressed last -Sunday morning from my own pulpit, sir," returned -the minister,—seeming too deeply affected with his -strong belief of the probability of such an event to be -able to add more.</p> - -<p>"I hear that the wretched framework-knitters -suffer more and more from abatements of wages and -other encroachments upon their means of subsistence, -of the most unfeeling and unprincipled character," -resumed the gentleman; "and although hundreds -are without work at the present time, and the complaints -of suffering from want of food, fuel, and -clothing, are so loud and frequent, yet not a single -rich manufacturer of the many that profess religion, -in Leicester, proposes to open a public subscription -for the poor, according to the humane custom of -past times. I heard a whisper that you had begun -to stir up the languid charity of some of your friends -towards the commencement of a subscription: was -I rightly informed, sir?"</p> - -<p>"It is the very subject I intend to broach to Mr.——, -to-morrow morning," replied the minister, -with an enthusiastic glow suffusing his expressive -face.</p> - -<p>"Please place your own name for that sum somewhere -on the list," said the gentleman, taking a note -for 20<i>l.</i> out of his pocket-book and giving it to the -minister.</p> - -<p>The good preacher was trying to stifle his grateful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span> -tears, in order to thank the sceptic,—but the -latter bowed and strode away; and the good preacher, -as he walked towards his own house in deep reflective -silence, had many thoughts of the true interpretation -of such words as "infidel" and "Christian" that -would have startled his audience, if he had uttered -them before it on the following Sunday.</p> - -<p>In spite of an agonised bodily system, the minister -was early abroad the next morning, and his glorious -brow beamed with pleasure, when the maid-servant -announced that the rich manufacturer's gig was at the -door, and the conversation was near that he hoped -would result in the effective commencement of a subscription -to relieve the misery, and hunger, and cold, -and disease, under which the depressed stockingers -and their families were groaning that severe winter. -Yet the philanthropist, with all his guilelessness, -knew the man he had to deal with, and proceeded in a -somewhat circumlocutory way to his object. In the -end, he enforced the claims of man as a brother, the -admirableness and divinity of charity, and the indefeasible -rights of the working man as a substantial -agent in the creation of wealth, with so much of the -potentiality of his transcendent eloquence, that the -manufacturer, in spite of the resistance his heart's -avarice made to the godlike theme, assented to the -proposal that he should begin the public subscription. -But how heart-stricken with grief and shame did the -golden-tongued pleader feel when, on producing the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span> -little book he had prepared for collecting the names -of subscribers, the rich manufacturer hesitated as -soon as he had written his name, bit the end of his -cedar pencil, and then hastily put five pounds at the -end of his name! The minister did not thank him, -for his soul was too noble to permit his tongue to -utter one word which his heart would not accompany: -but he had, again, some peculiar thoughts about the -true interpretation of the words "infidel" and -"Christian."</p> - -<p>Neither was the good man to be damped by such -an inauspicious beginning; but begging Mr.——would -not drive on again till he, the minister, had -got safely out of the gig, bid the rich churl "good -morning," posted away to the house of another "of -whom the world was not worthy," but with whom -Leicester was likewise blessed at that time: the -Rev. Mr. Robinson, vicar of St. Mary's, stayed till -that good man formed a little collecting book, and -then left him to divide the work of canvassing the -town for names to form the subscription list. Assisted -occasionally by others, the dissenting minister -persevered, till, in the lapse of several days, and at -the cost to himself of excruciating visitations of -increased pain in the night season, he completed such -a list as gave effectual relief to the hundreds of his -suffering fellow-creatures then inhabiting Leicester.</p> - -<p>That labour was no sooner ended than he commenced -a close inquiry into the real state of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span> -staple trade of the town; and, finding that the reports -of oppression and extortion, the foul fruits of avaricious -competition, were not exaggerated, he sat -down and wrote an appeal in behalf of the suffering -framework-knitters that might have jeopardied the -favour and acceptance of a less able preacher with -the wealthier members of his congregation.</p> - -<p>It might be imprudent to go on: the starving -stockingers of Leicester have no longer such an advocate; -and, as highly as some profess to esteem the -memory of the truly good, they may feel angered by -this introduction of a portrait which, as imperfectly -as it is delineated, they will already have recognised -to their shame. If a stranger to old Leicester should -ask whose is the portrait this faint limning is intended -to call to memory, it is hoped it will not be deemed -an act of desecration to introduce, in a volume of -merely fugitive essays, a name too truly holy to be -lightly mentioned,—a name inscribed, ineffaceably, -in English literature, by the sunbeam of his peerless -and hallowed eloquence to whom it belonged,—the -name of <span class="smcap">Robert Hall</span>.</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>"MERRIE ENGLAND"—NO MORE!</h2> -</div> - -<p>The present generation,—the generation succeeding -that in which the eloquent philanthropist and -the sceptical gentleman lived and conversed,—has it -witnessed any verification of the serious prophecy -uttered in that winter evening's conversation in the -streets of Leicester? The following brief but truthful -sketch will furnish an answer.</p> - -<p>On an April morning in forty-two—scarcely four -years bygone,—a group of five or six destitute-looking -men were standing on a well-known space -in Leicester, where the frustrum of a Roman milestone -(surmounted, in true Gothic style, with a fantastic -cross) was preserved within an iron palisade, -and where the long narrow avenue of Barkby Lane, -enters the wide trading street called Belgrave -Gate. The paleness and dejection of the men's -faces, as well as the ragged condition of their clothing, -would have told how fearfully they were struggling -with poverty and want, if their words had not -been overheard.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span></p> - -<p>"Never mind the lad, John," said the tallest -and somewhat the hardest-featured man of the -party; "he can't be worse off than he would have -been at home, let him be where he will. What's -the use of grieving about him? He was tired of -pining at home, no doubt, and has gone to try if he -can't mend his luck. You'll hear of him again, -soon, from some quarter or other."</p> - -<p>"But I can't satisfy myself about him, in that -way, George," replied the man to whom this rough -exhortation was addressed; "if the foolish lad be -drawn into company that tempts him to steal, I may -have to hear him sentenced to transportation, and -that would be no joke, George."</p> - -<p>"I see nothing so very serious, even in that," -observed another of the group; "I would as lief -be transported to-morrow as stay here to starve, as -I've done for the last six months."</p> - -<p>"It would seem serious to me, though," rejoined -John, "to see my own child transported."</p> - -<p>"Why, John, to men that scorn to steal, in -spite of starvation," resumed George, "it's painful -to see any child, or man either, transported: but -where's the real disgrace of it? The man that pronounces -the sentence is, in nine cases out of ten, a -bigger villain than him that's called 'the criminal.' -Disgrace is only a name—a mere name, you know, -John."</p> - -<p>"I'm aware there's a good deal o' truth in that,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span> -replied John; "the names of things would be altered -a good deal, if the world was set right: but, -as wrong as things are now, yet I hope my lad -will never steal, and have to be sentenced to transportation. -I've often had to hear him cry for bread, -since he was born, and had none to give him: -but I would sooner see him perish with hunger than -live to hear him transported, for I think it would -break my heart;—and God Almighty forbid I ever -should have to hear it!"</p> - -<p>"Goddle Mitey!" said George, pronouncing the -syllables in a mocking manner, and setting up a -bitter laugh, which was joined by every member of -the group, except the mournful man who had just -spoken; "who told thee there was one? Thy -grandmother and the parsons? Don't talk such -nonsense any more, John! it's time we all gave it -over: they've managed to grind men to the dust -with their priestcraft, and we shall never be righted -till we throw it off!"</p> - -<p>"No, no," chimed in another, immediately; "they -may cant and prate about it: but, if their God existed, -he would never permit us to suffer as we do!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm come seriously to the same conclusion," -said one who had not spoken before, and was -the palest and thinnest of the group: "I think all -their talk about a Providence that disposes the lot -of men differently here, 'for His Own great mysterious -purposes,' as they phrase it, is mere mysterious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span> -humbug, to keep us quiet. What purpose -could a being have, who, they say, is as infinitely -good as he is infinitely powerful, in placing me where -I must undergo insult and starvation, while He -places that man,—the oppressor and grinder, who -is riding past now, in his gig,—in plenty and -abundance?"</p> - -<p>"Right, Benjamin," said George; "they can't -get quit of their difficulty, quibble as they may: if -they bedaub us with such nicknames as 'Atheistical -Socialists,' we can defy them to make the riddle -plainer by their own Jonathan Edwards, that they -say good Robert Hall read over thirteen times, -and pronounced 'irrefragable.'"</p> - -<p>"Just so," resumed Benjamin, "whether man be -called a 'Creature of Circumstance,' or a 'Creature -of Necessity,' it amounts to the same thing. And, -then, none of the Arminian sects can make out a -case: they only prove the same thing as the Calvinist -and the Socialist, when their blundering argument is -sifted to the bottom."</p> - -<p>"So that, if there be a Providence," continued -George, "it has appointed, or permitted,—which -they like, for it comes to the same,—that old——should -fling the three dozen hose in your face last -November, and that you should be out of work, -and pine ever since; it appointed that I should get -a few potatoes or a herring, by begging, or go -without food altogether, some days since Christmas;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span> -and that each of us here, though we are willing to -work, should have to starve; while it appointed -that the mayor should live in a fine house, and swell -his riches, by charging <i>whole</i> frame-rents, month -after month, to scores of poor starving stockingers -that had from him but half week's work."</p> - -<p>"And, with all their talk about piety," rejoined -Benjamin, "I think there is no piety at all in believing -in the existence of such a Providence: and -since, it appears, it can't be proved that Providence -is of any other character, if there be One at all, I -think it less impious to believe in None."</p> - -<p>John stood by while this conversation was going -on; but he heard little of it,—for his heart was too -heavy with concern for his child,—and, in a little -time, he took his way, silently and slowly, towards -other groups of unemployed and equally destitute -men, who were standing on the wider space of ground, -at the junction of several streets,—a locality known -by the names of "the Coal-hill," and "the Hay-market," -from the nature of the merchandise sold -there, at different periods, in the open air.</p> - -<p>"Have you found the lad yet?" said one of John's -acquaintances, when he reached the outermost group.</p> - -<p>"No, William," replied the downcast father; -"and I begin to have some very troublesome fears -about him, I'll assure you."</p> - -<p>"But why should you, John?" expostulated the -other; "he's only gone to try if he can't mend himself——Look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span> -you, John!" he said, pointing excitedly -at what he suddenly saw; "there he goes, -with the recruiting serjeant!"</p> - -<p>The father ran towards the soldier and his child; -and every group on the Coal-hill was speedily in -motion when they saw and heard the father endeavouring -to drag off the lad from the soldier, who -seized the arm of his prize, and endeavoured to detain -him. An increasing crowd soon hemmed in the -party,—a great tumult arose,—and three policemen -were speedily on the spot.</p> - -<p>"Stick to your resolution, my boy!" cried the -soldier, grasping the lad's arm with all his might; -"you'll never want bread nor clothes in the army."</p> - -<p>"But he'll be a sold slave, and must be shot at, -like a dog!" cried the father, striving to rescue his -child,—a pale, tall stripling, who seemed to be but -sixteen or seventeen years of age.</p> - -<p>"Man-butcher!—Blood-hound!" shouted several -voices in the crowd: whereat the policemen raised -their staves, and called aloud to the crowd to "stand -back!"</p> - -<p>"I demand, in the Queen's name, that you make -this fellow loose his hold of my recruit!" said the -soldier, in a loud, angry tone, to the policemen; two -of whom seemed to be about obeying him, when a -dark, stern-browed man among the crowd, of much -more strong and sinewy appearance than the majority -of the working multitude who composed it, stepped -forward, and said,—</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span></p> - -<p>"Let any policemen touch him that dare! If -they do they shall repent it! There's no law to prevent -a father from taking hold of his own child's arm -to hinder him from playing the fool!"</p> - -<p>The men in blue slunk back at these words; and -the soldier himself seemed intimidated at perceiving -the father's cause taken up by an individual of such -determination.</p> - -<p>"Tom," said the determined man to the lad, -"have you taken the soldier's money?"</p> - -<p>"Not yet," answered the lad, after a few moments' -hesitation.</p> - -<p>"Then he shall have my life before he has thee!" -said the father, whose heart leaped at the answer, -and infused so much strength into his arm, that with -another pull he brought off his lad, entirely, from -the soldier's hold. The crowd now burst into a -shout of triumph; and when the soldier would have -followed, to recapture his victim, the stern-browed -man confronted him with a look of silent defiance; -and the red-coat, after uttering a volley of oaths, -walked off amidst the derision of the multitude.</p> - -<p>"Don't you think you were a fool, Tom, to be -juggled with that cut-throat?" said the stern-browed -man to the lad, while the crowd gathered around -him and his father.</p> - -<p>"I wasn't so soon juggled," replied the lad; "he's -been at me this three months; but I never yielded -till this morning, when I felt almost pined to death,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span> -and he made me have some breakfast with him,—but -he'll not get hold of me again!"</p> - -<p>"That's right, my lad!" said one of the crowd; -"the bloody rascals have not had two Leicester recruits -these two years; and I hope they'll never have -another."</p> - -<p>"No, no, our eyes are getting opened," said another -working-man; "they may be able to kill us -off by starvation, at home; but I hope young and -old will have too much sense, in future, to give or -sell their bodies to be shot at, for tyrants."</p> - -<p>"Ay, ay, we should soon set the lordlings fast, -if all working-men refused to go for soldiers," said -another.</p> - -<p>"So we should, Smith," said a sedate-looking -elderly man; "that's more sensible than talking of -fighting when we've no weapons, nor money to buy -'em, nor strength to use 'em."</p> - -<p>"Then we shall wait a long while for the Charter, -if we wait till we get it by leaving 'em no soldiers to -keep us down," said a young, bold-looking man, with -a fiery look; "for they'll always find plenty of -Johnny Raws ready to list in the farming districts."</p> - -<p>"And we shall wait a longer while still if we try -to get it by fighting, under our present circumstances," -answered the elderly man, in a firm tone; -"that could only make things worse, as all such -fool's tricks have ended, before."</p> - -<p>"You're right, Randal, you're right!" cried several<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span> -voices in the crowd; and the advocate of the bugbear -"physical force" said not another word on the -subject.</p> - -<p>"No, no, lads!" continued the "moral force" man, -"let us go on, telling 'em our minds, without whispering,—and -let us throw off their cursed priestcraft,—and -the system will come to an end,—and -before long. But fighting tricks would be sure to -fail; because they're the strongest,—and they know -it."</p> - -<p>"Yes, it must end,—and very soon," observed -another working-man; "the shopkeepers won't be -long before they join us; for they begin to squeak, -most woefully."</p> - -<p>"The shopkeepers, lad!" said the dark-looking -man, who had confronted the soldier; "never let us -look for their help: there is not a spark of independence -in any of 'em: they have had it in their -power, by their votes, to have ended misrule, before -now, if they had had the will."</p> - -<p>"Poor devils! they're all fast at their bankers', -and dare no more vote against their tyrants than -they dare attempt to fly," said another.</p> - -<p>"There is no dependence on any of the middle -class," said the dark-looking man; "they are as bad -as the aristocrats. You see this last winter has -passed over, entirely, without any subscription for -the poor, again,—as severe a winter as it has -been."</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ay, and work scarcer and scarcer, every day," -said another.</p> - -<p>"They say there are eight hundred out o'work -now, in Leicester," said the elderly, sedate man, who -had spoken before; "and I heard a manufacturer say -there would be twice as many before the summer -went over: but he added, that the people deserved -to be pinched, since they would not join the Corn -Law Repealers."</p> - -<p>A burst of indignation, and some curses and imprecations, -followed.</p> - -<p>"Does he go to chapel?" asked one.</p> - -<p>"Yes; and he's a member of the Charles Street -meeting," said the elderly man.</p> - -<p>"There's your religion, again!"—"There's -your saintship!"—"There's your Christianity!"—"There's -their Providence and their Goddle -Mitey!"—were the varied indignant exclamations -among the starved crowd, as soon as the answer was -heard.</p> - -<p>"I should think they invented the Bastile Mill, -while they were at chapel!" said one.</p> - -<p>"Is it smashed again?" asked another.</p> - -<p>"No; but it soon will be," answered the man who -confronted the soldier.</p> - -<p>These, and similar observations, were uttered -aloud, in the open street, at broad day, by hundreds -of starved, oppressed, and insulted framework-knitters, -who thus gave vent to their despair. Such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span> -conversations were customary sounds in John's ears, -and, having recovered his son, he took him by the -arm, after this brief delay, and, walking slowly back -towards the Roman milestone, the two bent their -steps down the narrow street called Barkby Lane.</p> - -<p>After threading an alley, they reached a small -wretchedly furnished habitation; and the lad burst -into tears, as his mother sprung from her laborious -employ at the wash-tub, and threw her arms round -his neck, and kissed him. Two or three neighbours -came in, in another minute, and congratulating the -father and mother, on their having found their son, -a conversation followed on the hatefulness of becoming -"a paid cut-throat for tyrants," the substance of -which would have been as unpleasing to "the powers -that be" as the conversation in the street, had they -heard the two. The entry, into the squalid-looking -house, of another neighbour, pale and dejected beyond -description, gave a new turn to the homely -discourse.</p> - -<p>"Your son has come back, I see, John," said the -new-comer, in a very faint voice: "I wish my -husband would come home."</p> - -<p>"Thy husband, Mary!" said John; "why, where's -he gone? Bless me, woman, how ill you look!—What's -the matter?"</p> - -<p>The woman's infant had begun to cry while she -spoke; and she had bared her breast, and given it to -the child: but—Nature was exhausted! there was no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span> -milk;—and, while the infant struggled and screamed, -the woman fainted.</p> - -<p>She recovered, under the kindly and sympathetic -attention of the neighbours; and the scanty resources -of the group were laid under contribution for restoring -some degree of strength, by means of food, to the -woman and her child. One furnished a cup of milk, -another a few spoonfuls of oatmeal, another brought -a little bread; and when the child was quieted, and -the mother was able, she commenced her sad narrative. -She had not, she said, tasted food of any -kind for a day and two nights: she had pawned or -sold every article of clothing, except what she had -on, and she was without a bonnet entirely: nor had -her husband any other clothes than the rags in which -he had gone out, two hours before, with the intent -to try the relieving officer, once more, for a loaf, or -a trifle of money: to complete their misery, they -owed six weeks' rent for the room in which lay the -bag of shavings that formed their bed; and, if they -could not pay the next week's rent, they must turn -out into the street, or go into the Bastile.</p> - -<p>Her recital was scarcely concluded, when the sorrowful -husband returned. He had been driven away -by the relieving officer, and threatened with the gaol, -if he came again, unless it was to bring his wife and -child with him to enter the Union Bastile!—and -the man sat down, and wept.</p> - -<p>And then the children of misery mingled their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> -consolations,—if reflections drawn from despair could -be so called,—and endeavoured to fortify the heart of -the yielding man, by reminding him that they would -not have to starve long, for life, with all its miseries, -would soon be over.</p> - -<p>"I wonder why it ever begun!" exclaimed the -man who had been yielding to tears, but now suddenly -burst out into bitter language: "I think it's -a pity but that God had found something better to -do than to make such poor miserable wretches as -we are!"</p> - -<p>"Lord! what queer thoughts thou hast, Jim!" -said the woman who had previously fainted, and she -burst into a half-convulsive laugh.</p> - -<p>"Indeed, it's altogether a mystery to me," said -the man who had so recently found his son; "we -seem to be born for nothing but trouble. And -then the queerest thing is that we are to go to hell, -at last, if we don't do every thing exactly square. -My poor father always taught me to reverence religion; -and I don't like to say any thing against it, -but I'm hard put to it, at times, Jim, I'll assure ye. -It sounds strange, that we are to be burnt for ever, -after pining and starving here; for how can a man -keep his temper, and be thankful, as they say we -ought to be, when he would work and can't get it, -and, while he starves, sees oppressors ride in their -gigs, and build their great warehouses?"</p> - -<p>"It's mere humbug, John, to keep us down:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span> -that's what it is!" said Jim: "one of these piety-mongers -left us a tract last week; and what should -it contain but that old tale of Bishop Burnet, about -the widow that somebody who peeped through the -chinks of the window-shutters saw kneeling by a -table with a crust of bread before her, and crying -out in rapture, 'All this and Christ!' I tell thee -what, John, if old Burnet had been brought down -from his gold and fat living, and had tried it himself, -I could better have believed him. It's a tale told like -many others to make fools and slaves of us: that's -what I think. Ay, and I told the long-faced fellow -so that fetched the tract. He looked very sourly at -me, and said the poor did not use to trouble themselves -about politics in his father's time, and every -body was more comfortable then than they are now. -'The more fools were they,' said I: 'if the poor had -begun to think of their rights sooner, instead of -listening to religious cant, we should not have been -so badly off now:' and away he went, and never -said another word.</p> - -<p>"But I don't like to give way to bad thoughts -about religion, after all, Jim," said John: "it's -very mysterious—the present state of things: but -we may find it all explained in the next life."</p> - -<p>"Prythee, John," exclaimed the other, interrupting -him, impatiently, "don't talk so weakly. That's -the way they all wrap it up; and if a guess in the -dark and a 'maybe' will do for an argument, why<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span> -any thing will do. Until somebody can prove to me -that there <i>is</i> another life after this, I shall think it -my duty to think about this only. Now just look -at this, John! If there be another life after this, -why the present is worth nothing: every moment -here ought to be spent in caring for eternity; and -every man who really believes in such a life would -not care how he passed this, so that he could but be -making a preparation for the next: isn't that true, -John?"</p> - -<p>"To be sure it is, Jim; and what o' that?"</p> - -<p>"Why, then, tell me which of 'em believes in -such a life. Do you see any of the canting tribe less -eager than others to get better houses, finer chairs -and tables, larger shops, and more trade? Is old -Sour-Godliness in the north, there, more easily -brought to give up a penny in the dozen to save a -starving stockinger than the grinders that don't profess -religion? I tell thee, John, it's all fudge: they -don't believe it themselves, or else they would imitate -Christ before they tell us to be like him!"</p> - -<p>Reader! the conversation shall not be prolonged, -lest the object of this sketch should be mistaken. -These conversations are <i>real</i>: they are no coinages. -Go to Leicester, or any other of the suffering towns -of depressed manufacture, where men compete with -each other in machinery till human hands are of -little use, and rival each other in wicked zeal to -reduce man to the merest minimum of subsistence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span> -If the missionary people—and this is not said with -a view to question the true greatness and utility of -their efforts—if they would be consistent, let them -send their heralds into the manufacturing districts, -and first convert the "infidels" there, ere they send -their expensive messengers to India. But let it be -understood that the heralds must be furnished with -brains, as well as tongues; for whoever enters -Leicester, or any other of the populous starving -hives of England, must expect to find the deepest -subjects of theology, and government, and political -economy, taken up with a subtlety that would often -puzzle a graduate of Oxford or Cambridge. Whoever -supposes the starving "manufacturing masses" -know no more, and can use no better language, than -the peasantry in the agricultural counties, will find -himself egregiously mistaken. 'Tis ten to one but -he will learn more of a profound subject in one hour's -conversation of starving stockingers than he would -do in ten lectures of a university professor. Let the -missionary people try these quarters, then; but let -their heralds "know their business" ere they go, or -they will make as slow progress as Egede and the -Moravians among the Greenlanders. One hint may -be given. Let them begin with the manufacturers; -and, if they succeed in making <i>real</i> converts to -Christianity in that quarter, their success will be -tolerably certain among the working-men, and tolerably -easy in its achievement.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span></p> - -<p>There is no "tale" to finish about John or his -lad, or Jem and his wife. They went on starving,—begging,—receiving -threats of imprisonment,—tried -the "Bastile" for a few weeks,—came out and had -a little work,—starved again; and they are still -going the same miserable round, like thousands in -"merrie England." What are your thoughts, -reader?</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>SETH THOMPSON, THE STOCKINGER;<br /> -<span class="small">OR,<br /> -"WHEN THINGS ARE AT THE WORST,<br /> -THEY BEGIN TO MEND."</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Leicestershire stockingers call that a false proverb. -"People have said so all our lives," say they; "but, -although we have each and all agreed, every day, -that things were at the worst, they never begun to -mend yet!" This was not their language sixty years -ago, but it is their daily language <i>now</i>; and the -story that follows is but, as it were, of yesterday.</p> - -<p>Seth Thompson was the only child of a widow, -by the time that he was six years old, and became a -"winding boy," in a shop of half-starved framework-knitters -at Hinckley,—a kindred lot with hundreds -of children of the same age, in Leicestershire. Seth's -mother was a tender mother to her child; but he -met tenderness in no other quarter. He was weakly, -and since that rendered him unable to get on with his -winding of the yarn as fast as stronger children, he -was abused and beaten by the journeymen, while the -master stockinger, for every slight flaw in his work,—though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span> -it always resulted from a failure of strength -rather than carelessness,—unfeelingly took the opportunity -to "dock" his paltry wages.</p> - -<p>Since her child could seldom add more than a -shilling or fifteen-pence to the three, or, at most, four -shillings, she was able to earn herself,—and she had -to pay a heavy weekly rent for their humble home,—it -will readily be understood that neither widow -Thompson nor Seth were acquainted with the -meaning of the word "luxury," either in food or -habits. A scanty allowance of oatmeal and water -formed their breakfast, potatoes and salt their dinner, -and a limited portion of bread, with a wretchedly -diluted something called "tea" as an accompaniment, -constituted their late afternoon, or evening meal; and -they knew no variety for years, winter or summer. -The widow's child went shoeless in the warm season, -and the cast-off substitutes he wore in winter, together -with lack of warmth in his poor mother's -home, and repulses from the shop fire by the master -and men while at work, subjected him, through -nearly the whole of every winter, to chilblains and -other diseases of the feet. Rags were his familiar -acquaintances, and, boy-like, he felt none of the -aching shame and sorrow experienced by his mother -when she beheld his destitute covering, and reflected -that her regrets would not enable her to amend his -tattered condition.</p> - -<p>Seth's mother died when he reached fifteen, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span> -expressed thankfulness, on her death-bed, that she -was about to quit a world of misery, after being permitted -to live till her child was in some measure able -to struggle for himself. In spite of hard usage and -starvation, Seth grew up a strong lad, compared with -the puny youngsters that form the majority of the -junior population in manufacturing districts. He -was quick-witted, too, and had gathered a knowledge -of letters and syllables, amidst the references -to cheap newspapers and hourly conversation on -politics by starving and naturally discontented stockingers. -From a winding-boy, Seth was advanced to -the frame, and, by the time he had reached seventeen, -was not only able to earn as much as any other -stockinger in Hinckley, when he could get work, -but, with the usually improvident haste of the miserable -and degraded, married a poor "seamer," who -was two years younger than himself.</p> - -<p>Seth Thompson at twenty-one, with a wife who -was but nineteen, had become the parent of four -children; and since he had never been able to bring -home to his family more than seven shillings in one -week, when the usual villainous deductions were -made by master and manufacturer, in the shape of -"frame-rent" and other "charges,"—since he had -often had but <i>half</i>-work, with the usual deduction of -<i>whole</i> charges, and had been utterly without work for -six several periods, of from five to nine weeks each, -during the four years of his married life,—the following<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span> -hasty sketch of the picture which this "home -of an Englishman" presented one noon, when a -stranger knocked at the door, and it was opened by -Seth himself, will scarcely be thought overdrawn:—</p> - -<p>Except a grey deal table, there was not a single -article within the walls which could be called "furniture," -by the least propriety of language. This -stood at the farther side of the room, and held a few -soiled books and papers, Seth's torn and embrowned -hat, and the mother's tattered straw bonnet. The -mother sat on a three-legged stool, beside an osier -cradle, and was suckling her youngest child while -she was eating potatoes and salt from an earthen -dish upon her knee. Seth's dish of the same food -stood on a seat formed of a board nailed roughly -across the frame of a broken chair; while, in the -centre of the floor, where the broken bricks had disappeared -and left the earth bare, the three elder -babes sat squatted round a board whereon boiled -potatoes in their skins were piled,—a meal they were -devouring greedily, squeezing the inside of the root -into their mouths with their tiny hands, after the -mode said to be practised in an Irish cabin. An -empty iron pot stood near the low expiring fire, and -three rude logs of wood lay near it,—the children's -usual seats when they had partaken their meal. A -description of the children's filthy and bedaubed appearance -with the potatoe starch, and of the "looped -and windowed" rags that formed their covering,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span> -could only produce pain to the reader. Seth's clothing -was not much superior to that of his offspring; but -the clean cap and coloured cotton handkerchief of the -mother, with her own really beautiful but delicate -face and form, gave some relief to the melancholy -picture.</p> - -<p>Seth blushed, as he took up his dish of potatoes, -and offered the stranger his fragment of a seat. And -the stranger blushed, too, but refused the seat with a -look of so much benevolence that Seth's heart glowed -to behold it; and his wife set down her porringer, -and hushed the children that the stranger might deliver -his errand with the greater ease.</p> - -<p>"Your name is Thompson, I understand," said -the stranger; "pray, do you know what was your -mother's maiden name?"</p> - -<p>"Greenwood,—Martha Greenwood was my poor -mother's maiden name, sir," replied Seth, with the -tears starting to his eyes.</p> - -<p>The stranger seemed to have some difficulty in -restraining similar feelings; and gazed, sadly, round -upon the room and its squalid appearance, for a few -moments, in silence.</p> - -<p>Seth looked hard at his visitor, and thought of -one whom his mother had often talked of; but did -not like to put an abrupt question, though he imagined -the stranger's features strongly resembled his -parent's.</p> - -<p>"Are working people in Leicestershire usually so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span> -uncomfortably situated as you appear to be?" asked -the stranger, in a tone of deep commiseration which -he appeared to be unable to control.</p> - -<p>Seth Thompson and his wife looked uneasily at -each other, and then fixed their gaze on the floor.</p> - -<p>"Why, sir," replied Seth, blushing more deeply -than before, "we married very betime, and our family, -you see, has grown very fast; we hope things will -mend a little with us when some o' the children are -old enough to earn a little. We've only been badly -off as yet, but you'd find a many not much better -off, sir, I assure you, in Hinckley and elsewhere."</p> - -<p>The stranger paused again, and the working of his -features manifested strong inward feeling.</p> - -<p>"I see nothing but potatoes," he resumed; "I -hope your meal is unusually poor to-day, and that you -and your family generally have a little meat at -dinner."</p> - -<p>"Meat, sir!" exclaimed Seth; "we have not -known what it is to set a bit of meat before our -children more than three times since the first was -born; we usually had a little for our Sunday dinner -when we were first married, but we can't afford it -now!"</p> - -<p>"Good God!" cried the stranger, with a look -that demonstrated his agony of grief and indignation, -"is this England,—the happy England, that -I have heard the blacks in the West Indies talk of -as a Paradise?"</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span></p> - -<p>"Are you my mother's brother? Is your name -Elijah Greenwood?" asked Seth Thompson, unable -longer to restrain the question.</p> - -<p>"Yes," replied the visitor, and sat down upon -Seth's rude seat, to recover his self-possession.—</p> - -<p>That was a happy visit for poor Seth Thompson, -and his wife and children. His mother had often -talked of her only brother who went for a sailor when -a boy, and was reported to be settled in some respectable -situation in the West Indies, but concerning -whom she never received any certain information. -Elijah Greenwood had suddenly become rich, by the -death of a childless old planter, whom he had faithfully -served, and who had left him his entire estate. -England was Elijah's first thought, when this circumstance -took place; and, as soon as he could settle -his new possession under some careful and trusty -superintendence till his return, he had taken ship, -and come to his native country and shire. By -inquiry at the inn, he had learnt the afflictive fact of -his sister's death, but had been guided to the poverty-stricken -habitation of her son.</p> - -<p>That was the last night that Seth Thompson and -his children slept on their hard straw sacks on the -floor,—the last day that they wore rags and tatters, -and dined upon potatoes and salt. Seth's uncle -placed him in a comfortable cottage, bought him -suitable furniture, gave him a purse of 50<i>l.</i> for ready -money, and promised him a half-yearly remittance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span> -from Jamaica, for the remainder of his, the uncle's, -life, with a certainty of a considerable sum at his -death.</p> - -<p>Seth and his wife could not listen, for a moment, -to a proposal for leaving England, although they had -experienced little but misery in it, their whole lives. -The uncle, however, obtained from them a promise -that they would not restrain any of their children -from going out to Jamaica; and did not leave them -till he had seen them fairly and comfortably settled, -and beheld what he thought a prospect of comfort for -them, in the future. Indeed, on the very morning -succeeding that in which Seth's new fortune became -known, the hitherto despised stockinger was sent for -by the principal manufacturer of hosen, in Hinckley, -and offered "a shop of frames," in the language of -the working men; that is, he was invited to become -a "master," or one who receives the "stuff" from -the capitalist or manufacturer, and holds of him, -likewise, a given number of frames,—varying from -half-a-dozen to a score or thirty, or even more; and -thus becomes a profit-sharing middleman between the -manufacturer and the labouring framework-knitters. -Seth accepted the offer, for it seemed most natural -to him to continue in the line of manufacture to -which he had been brought up; and his uncle, with -pleasurable hopes for his prosperity, bade him farewell!—</p> - -<p>"Well, my dear," said Seth to his wife, as they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span> -sat down to a plentiful dinner, surrounded with their -neatly-dressed and happy children, the day after the -uncle's departure, "we used to say we should never -prove the truth of the old proverb, but we have -proved it at last: times came to the worst with us, -and began to mend."</p> - -<p>"Thank God! we have proved it, my love," replied -the wife; "and I wish our poor neighbours could -prove it as well."</p> - -<p>Seth sighed,—and was silent.——</p> - -<p>Some years rolled over, and Seth Thompson had -become a well-informed, and deep-thinking man, but -one in whom was no longer to be found that passionate -attachment to his native country which he once felt. -The manufacturer under whom he exercised the office -of "master," had borrowed the greater part of Seth's -uncle's remittances, as regularly as they arrived; and -as Seth received due interest for these loans, and -confided that the manufacturer's wealth was real, -he believed he was taking a prudent way of laying -up enough for the maintenance of his old age, or for -meeting the misfortunes of sickness, should they come. -But the manufacturer broke; and away went all that -Seth had placed in his hands. Every week failures -became more frequent,—employ grew scantier, for -trade was said to decrease, though machinery increased,—discontent -lowered on every brow,—and -the following sketch of what was said at a meeting -of starving framework-knitters held in Seth Thompson's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span> -shop but a month before he quitted England -for ever, may serve to show what were his own reflections, -and those of the suffering beings around -him.</p> - -<p>About twenty working men had assembled, and -stood in three or four groups,—no "chairman" -having been, as yet, chosen, since a greater number -of attendants was expected.</p> - -<p>"I wish thou would throw that ugly thing away, -Timothy!" said a pale, intellectual looking workman, -to one whose appearance was rendered filthy, -in addition to his ragged destitution, by a dirty pipe -stuck in his teeth, and so short that the head scarcely -projected beyond his nose.</p> - -<p>"I know it's ugly, Robert," replied the other, in a -tone between self-accusation and despair,—"but it -helps to pass away time. I've thrown it away twice,—but -I couldn't help taking to it again last week, -when I had nought to do. I think I should have -hanged myself if I had not smoked a bit o' 'bacco."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm resolute that I'll neither smoke nor -drink any more," said a third: "the tyrants can do -what they like with us, as long as we feed their vices -by paying taxes. If all men would be o' my mind -there would soon be an end of their extravagance,—for -they would have nothing to support it."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, James," replied the smoker, "I don't -feel so sure about your plan as you seem to be, yourself: -you'll never persuade all working-men to give<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span> -up a sup of ale or a pipe, if they can get hold of -either; but, not to talk of that, what's to hinder the -great rascals from inventing other taxes if these -fail?"</p> - -<p>"They couldn't easily be hindered, unless we had -all votes," said the first speaker, "we're all well aware -of that; but it would put 'em about, and render the -party more unpopular that wanted to put on a new -tax."</p> - -<p>"I don't think that's so certain, either," replied -the smoker; "depend on't, neither Whigs nor Tories -will run back from the support of taxes. D'ye ever -read of either party agreeing to 'stop the supplies,' as -they call it, or join in any measure to prevent taxes -from being collected till grievances are redressed?"</p> - -<p>"No, indeed, not we," chimed another, lighting -his short pipe by the help of his neighbour's, and -folding his arms, with a look of something like mock -bravery; "and, for my part, I don't think they ever -will be redressed till we redress 'em ourselves!"</p> - -<p>"Ah, Joseph!" said the pale-looking man, shaking -his head, "depend upon it that's all a dream! How -are poor starvelings like us, who have neither the -means of buying a musket, nor strength to march and -use it, if he had it,—how are we to overthrow thousands -of disciplined troops with all their endless resources -of ammunition?—It's all a dream, Joseph! -depend on't."</p> - -<p>"Then what are we to do,—lie down and die?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span> -asked the other; but looked as if he were aware he -had spoken foolishly, under the impulse of despair.</p> - -<p>"I'm sure I often wish to die," said another, -joining the conversation in a doleful tone; "I've -buried my two youngest, and the oldest lad's going -fast after his poor mother; one can't get bread enough -to keep body and soul together!"</p> - -<p>"Well, if it hadn't been for Seth Thompson's -kindness," said another, "I believe I should have -been dead by this time. I never felt so near putting -an end to my life as I did last Sunday morning. -I've been out o' work, now, nine weeks; and last -Saturday I never put a crumb in my mouth, for I -couldn't get it, and I caught up a raw potatoe in -the street last Sunday morning, and ate it for sheer -hunger. Seth Thompson saw me, and—God bless -his heart!—he called me in and gave me a cup of -warm coffee and some toast, and slipped a shilling -into my hand." And the man turned aside to dash -away his tears.</p> - -<p>"Ay, depend upon it, we shall miss Seth, when -he leaves us," said several voices together.</p> - -<p>"It's many a year since there was a master in -Hinckley like him," said the man with the short -black pipe, "and, I fear, when he is gone, the whole -grinding crew will be more barefaced than ever with -their extortions and oppressions of poor men. Seth -knew what it was to be nipped himself when he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span> -younger; that's the reason that he can feel for others -that suffer."</p> - -<p>"It isn't always the case, though," said another; -"look at skin-flint Jimps, the glove-master; I remember -him when he was as ragged as an ass's colt: -and where is there such another grinding villain as -Jimps, now he is so well off?"</p> - -<p>"The more's the shame for a man that preaches -and professes to be religious," said the smoker.</p> - -<p>"It was but last Saturday forenoon," resumed the -man who had mentioned Jimps, the glove-master, -"that he docked us two-pence a dozen, again: and -when I asked him if his conscience wouldn't reproach -him when he went to chapel, he looked like a fiend, -and said, 'Bob! I knew what it was to be ground -once; but it's my turn to grind now!'"</p> - -<p>"And they call that religion, do they?" said the -smoker, with an imprecation.</p> - -<p>"It won't mend it to swear, my lad," said the intellectual-looking -man; "we know one thing,—that -whatever such a fellow as this may do that professes -religion, he doesn't imitate the conduct of his Master."</p> - -<p>"I believe religion's all a bag of moonshine," said -the smoker, "or else they that profess it would not -act as they do."</p> - -<p>"Don't talk so rashly, Tim," rejoined the other; -"we always repent when we speak in ill-temper. -Religion can't cure hypocrites, man, though it can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span> -turn drunkards and thieves into sober and honest -men: it does not prove that religion is all a bag of -moonshine, because some scoundrels make a handle -of it. Truth's truth, in spite of all the scandal that -falsehood and deceit brings upon it."</p> - -<p>"Isn't it time we got to business?" said one of -the group.</p> - -<p>"I don't think it will be of any use to wait longer," -said another; "there will not be more with us, if we -wait another hour; the truth is, that men dare not -attend a meeting like this, for fear of being turned -off, and so being starved outright;—there's scarcely -any spirit left in Hinckley."</p> - -<p>"I propose that Seth Thompson takes the chair," -said another, taking off his ragged hat, and speaking -aloud.</p> - -<p>A faint clapping of hands followed, and Seth took -a seat upon a raised part of one of the frames at the -end of the shop, and opened the meeting according to -the simple but business-like form, which working-men -are wont to observe in similar meetings, in the -manufacturing districts.</p> - -<p>"I feel it would scarcely become me to say much, -my friends," he said, "since I am about to leave -you. I thought, at one time, that nothing could -have ever inclined me to leave old England; but it -seems like folly to me, now, to harbour an attachment -to a country where one sees nothing but -misery, nor any chance of improvement. I would not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span> -wish to damp your spirits; but if I were to tell you -how much uneasiness I have endured for some years -past, even while you have seen me apparently well -off and comfortable, you would not wonder that I -am resolved to quit this country, since I have the -offer of ease and plenty, though in a foreign clime. -I tell you, working men, that I had power over Mr.——, -by the moneys I had lent him, or I should -have been turned out of this shop years ago. Week -by week have we quarrelled, because I would not -practise the tyrannies and extortions upon working -men that he recommended and urged. It is but a -hateful employ to a man of any feeling,—is that of -a master-stockinger under an avaricious and inhuman -hosier. But, if the master's situation be so far from -being a happy one, I need not tell you that I know well, -by experience, how much more miserable is that of the -starved and degraded working-man. Indeed, indeed,—I -see no hope for you, my friends,—yet, I repeat, -I would not wish to damp your spirits. Perhaps -things may mend yet; but I confess I see no likelihood -of it, till the poor are represented as well as the -rich."</p> - -<p>It might produce weariness to go through all the -topics that were touched upon by Seth and others. -They were such as are familiarly handled, daily, in -the manufacturing districts; ay, and with a degree -of mental force and sound reasoning,—if not with -polish of words,—that would make some gentlefolk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span> -stare, if they were to hear the sounds proceeding from -the haggard figures in rags who often utter them. The -"deceit" of the Reform Bill, as it is usually termed -by manufacturing "operatives;" the trickery of the -Whigs; the corruption and tyranny of the Tories; -the heartlessness of the manufacturers and "the -League;" and the right of every sane Englishman -of one and twenty years of age to a vote in the -election of those who have to govern him, were -each and all broadly, and unshrinkingly, and yet not -intemperately, asserted.</p> - -<p>One or two, in an under-tone, ventured to suggest -that it might be advantageous to try, once more, -to act with the Anti-Corn Law men, since many -of the members of the League professed democracy; -and, if that were done, working men would not fear -to attend a meeting such as that they were then -holding. But this was scouted by the majority; -and a proposal was, at length, made, in a written -form, and seconded,—"That a branch of an association -of working men, similar to one that was stated -to have been just established at Leicester, should be -formed." The motion was put and carried,—a committee, -and secretary, and treasurer, were chosen,—and -the men seemed to put off their dejection, and -grow energetic in their resolution to attempt their -own deliverance from misery, in the only way that -they conceived it could ever be substantially effected: -but their purpose came to the ears of the manufacturers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span> -on the following day, threats of loss of -work were issued, and no association was established!</p> - -<p>Seth Thompson took his family to the West -Indies, pursuant to the many and urgent requests contained -in his uncle's letters, and soon entered upon the -enjoyment of the plenty in store for him. Hinckley -stockingers remain in their misery still; and, perhaps, -there is scarcely a place in England where -starving working men have so little hope,—although -"things," they say, "have come to the worst,"—that -"they" will ever "begin to mend."</p> - - - - -<hr /> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>SAM SIMKINS, THE RUN-AWAY;<br /> -<span class="small">OR,<br /> -VILLAINY AS A REFUGE FROM THE TORTURES OF<br /> -SOUR-GODLINESS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>Sam Simkins was a wild lad,—but whose fault -was it that he became so? That was the significant -question which uniformly followed the commemoration -of his history among the old women of the -village where he was born, and where, after the -early death of his father and mother, he was apprenticed, -by the parish, to Mr. Jonas Straitlace, the -saddler and collar-maker. The village was not more -than half-a-dozen miles from Birmingham; and to -that town Sam usually trudged once or twice in the -working part of the week on his master's business -errands, and, invariably, accompanied his master -thither twice on the Sunday, to attend the ministry -of a Calvinistic teacher.</p> - -<p>With the exception of a very restricted number of -hours for sleep, these were the only portions of Sam's -existence that could come within the name of relaxation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span> -Some people gave Sam's master the title of -a "money-grub;" but Mr. Jonas Straitlace himself -modestly laid claim to the character of one who was -"diligent in business, fervent in spirit, and——" the -reader knows the rest. In brief, he was one of -the too numerous description of folk who cast their -sour into the sweets of innocent enjoyment on every -occasion within their compass, and strive to throw a -universal pall over the world by keeping their fellow-creatures -in mind that the next life alone is worth a -moment's thought,—and yet, daily and hourly illustrate -their own gloomy lesson by grasping at the dirt -called money as eagerly as if they believed they could -carry it with them over the ford of the grave, and -that it would be still more current coin in the -next life than in this. Strict rates of charge to his -customers in an age of competition prevented Straitlace -from extending his business; but the consequence -was, that he grew more pinching towards -himself, and still more towards his apprentice, in -allowing the body its proper amount of sustenance, -or the general constitution its necessary share of -healthful unbending. Sam was pinched in his -measure of food, and watched while he ate it, lest -the spoon should travel so slowly to his mouth as to -prevent his return to labour after the lapse of an appointed -number of minutes; he was "alarumed" up -at five in winter, and at four in summer, and kept at -the bench till eight; and what went down more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span> -hardly with Sam than either scant food and sleep, or -unceasingly painful toil, was the fact, that his -master's vinegared piety overflowed with such zeal for -Sam's spiritual welfare as to compel him to spend the -remaining time till ten, every working-day evening, -in reading one book. Nay, the lad, in spite of the -remembrance that every other apprentice in the village -was allowed, at least, an hour's holyday-time, -each day, would have felt it to be some amelioration -of his captive lot, had he been allowed to derive such -amusement from the book as it might afford; but -Straitlace's zeal for Sam's happiness in the next life, -taught him that he must use even this extreme -resort to mortify the lad in the present state of existence, -and, therefore, Sam must read nothing but -the Prophets, in one division of the book, and the -Epistles, in the other!</p> - -<p>Such was the discipline to which Mr. Jonas -Straitlace subjected Sam Simkins from the age of -nine, when the parish placed the lad under his care, -to fifteen. Straitlace had one invariable answer to -all who remonstrated with him on the undue severity, -the imprisoning strictness, he exercised towards his -apprentice:—"Train up a child in the way he -should go," he would say, quoting the whole text, -"that's a Bible reason for what I do: it doesn't -allow me to parley with flesh and blood: I must -obey it."</p> - -<p>Mr. Jonas Straitlace had found that fine moral<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span> -pearl in the great Oriental treasure-house of the -wisdom-jewels of ages, and he was too sordidly ignorant -to know that the originator of the maxim never -intended the "should go" to be left to the judicature -either of brain-sick zealots and morbid pietists, or of -rash experimenters and fanciful speculatists. But -what cared Straitlace about the legitimate and fair interpretation -of the text? His ready quotation of it -served his purpose: it kept "meddlers," as he called -them, at arm's length, and secured the links of that -grinding slavery which held Sam to his task, and -brought money into the till.</p> - -<p>It would be a heart-sickening detail, that of the -incidental miseries Sam experienced in these six -years: suffice it to say, his chain was tightened till -it snapped. He contrived to form an acquaintance -in Birmingham who advised him to "cut" his tyrant-master, -and "cut" him he did. Yet, Mr. Jonas -Straitlace knew the value of Sam's earnings too well -to be inclined to give up his bird without trying to -catch it again. He set out for Birmingham, made -inquiry, and learned that Sam, in spite of being minuted -by his master's watch, had contrived, almost -uniformly, on his errands, to spend a quarter of an hour -in a certain low public-house, and that he had done -this, habitually, for more than a twelvemonth past. -Straitlace bent his steps to this resort, and, by his -crafty mode of questioning, ascertained from the -landlord that Sam had that very morning been in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span> -his house with one "Jinks,"—yet that was not the -man's right name, the landlord added, but only a -name he went by.</p> - -<p>"And pray who is this Jinks?" asked Straitlace.</p> - -<p>"He was once a man in great trust, sir," answered -the landlord, with some solemnity: "he was head -clerk in a first-rate lawyers's office in this town. -But it was found out at last, that Jinks had 'bezzled -a good deal o' money belonging to the firm; and so -he was sent to gaol for a couple o' year; nay, he -was very near being hanged. And so when he came -out o' limbo, you understand, why nobody would -trust, or hardly look on him; and he's now got from -bad to worse."</p> - -<p>"What mean you by that?" asked Jonas.</p> - -<p>"The least said is the soonest mended," replied the -landlord.</p> - -<p>"I wish you could tell me where I could see -this man," said Straitlace: "the lad is my apprentice, -and this man will do him no good: besides, I -am losing money by his absence."</p> - -<p>The landlord stared, bit his lip, with a look that -told he wished he had not talked so fast, and then -made answer that he was busy that morning, and, besides, -it was ten thousand to one whether Jinks -could be found in his hiding-hole, if they were to go -to it:—"and, more than all," he added, "there -is no believing him, he is such a fellow to thump: -he tells so many lies, poking his eyes into every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span> -corner, and never looking in your face all the while, -that I often think Jinks must find it hard to invent -new ones."</p> - -<p>Straitlace was versed sufficiently in human character -to discern that the prattling landlord was made -of squeezable materials, and so he urged his questions -and entreaties until he had won his point, and the -landlord undertook to conduct him to "Jinks's hiding -hole."</p> - -<p>Threading an alley in one of the dingiest streets in -the town, they wound through several crooked passages, -and arrived at a paltry-looking small square. -From a corner of this dirty and half-ruined quadrangle, -the landlord advanced along a path that could -scarcely be supposed to lead to a human dwelling. -It was what is designated a "twitchel" in the midland -counties, being barely wide enough to admit one -person at a time,—and was the boundary line of -two rows of buildings, the eaves of which overhung -it, and rendered the passage as gloomy as if it were -scarcely yet twilight. Straitlace scrambled with difficulty -after his conductor, and over the heaps of -cinders, broken pots, and oyster and muscle shells -which lay along this dark tract; and when they -came to the end of it, and had descended half-a-dozen -stone steps, they arrived at what looked like -the door of a cellar. Here the landlord shook his -fist at Straitlace, and compressed his features, as a -signal for his companion to keep strict silence. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span> -then tapped, very gently, at the door; but, though -he repeated his timid knock, no one answered.</p> - -<p>"Jinks! Jinks! I say," he whispered through the -key-hole, after he had knocked the third time.</p> - -<p>"Who's there?" said a sharp, angry voice.</p> - -<p>"It's only me, Jinks:—I want to speak t' ye," -answered the landlord.</p> - -<p>"You lie, Jemmy Jolter:—there's more than you -only," retorted Jinks, with a snarl so sudden and -crabbed that it flung the other entirely off his -guard.</p> - -<p>"Well—but—but," Jemmy stammered; "this -person wants to see you about that youth that was -with you this morning, Jinks, and——"</p> - -<p>"Whew! Jemmy Jolter, you've let it out again," -replied the strange voice within: "get home, ye -long-tongued fool, get home! what fool is that beside -ye to employ such a sieve to carry water?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, very well, Jinks," said the weak landlord, -turning round in dudgeon: "a time may come when -you may want a good turn doing, you know."</p> - -<p>"I'll let you in, by yourself, Jemmy, if you like," -said the keeper of this questionable garrison, fearful -of losing the good offices of the landlord; "or I'll -admit that verjuice-faced fellow who stands beside -you, with the white apron round him."</p> - -<p>The outer party here looked at each other with -some alarm, on finding they were each seen so plainly -by one who was to them invisible.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span></p> - -<p>"You don't think I shall advise a respectable man -and a stranger to come into such a den as yours, -alone,—do ye, Jinks?" said the other, in a voice of -displeasure.</p> - -<p>"Then you may both keep out," retorted the concealed -speaker; "at any rate, you'll both be safe -there. Twist my withers, if ever I admit two clients -into chambers at once! No, no! it wouldn't do, -Jemmy! What I say here goes into only one pair -of ears besides my own."</p> - -<p>"I'll venture alone, if he'll only admit me," said -Straitlace, his eagerness to learn something of Sam, -and, if possible, to recover the possession of him, -subduing the repugnance he felt against trusting -himself alone in such suspicious company.</p> - -<p>The door was slightly opened in a moment; and -before the landlord could remonstrate, Straitlace -was admitted, and the bolts were again closed within. -Jinks seized his visitor by the hand, and rapidly -pulled him up a dark stair. Straitlace's mind misgave -him, as he reached the top of the ascent: it -conducted to a narrow apartment in which there was -no furniture but a broken chair, and a strong wooden -bench; while a bottle, and an earthen pot, with some -discoloured papers, covered the end of a barrel which -appeared to serve the wretched habitant of the room -for a table. There was no fire in the dirty grate, -and viewed through the murky light admitted by the -small window which was half-obscured with papers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span> -patching the broken panes, the appearance of the -squalid chamber sent a shuddering feeling over -Straitlace's skin.</p> - -<p>"Well, and so now you are admitted to my -<i>sanctum sanctorum</i>,—what's your will?" asked Jinks, -with a grin of derision, and seating himself on the -broken chair.</p> - -<p>Straitlace was not a timid man; but the dark skin, -projecting teeth, and overhanging brows of the figure -before him, and, more than all, the diabolical fire of -his eyes, really affrighted him, and he remained -speechless.</p> - -<p>"Don't stare at me in that way, you fool," said -the grim figure, savagely; "I'm not a wizard, though -I do deal with the devil sometimes. What d'ye -want to know about Sam Simkins?"</p> - -<p>Straitlace was amazed at the effrontery of the -fellow, in turn: "I insist upon it, that you tell me -where he is, since you seem to know," he said, his -displeasure giving him a little spirit.</p> - -<p>"Whew!" was the only answer made by the -grim figure, who turned the empty pot towards the -light, and then looked into it, and then looked at -Straitlace, who was 'born sooner than yesterday,' -as they say in the midlands; but who was not disposed -to show that he penetrated the meaning of the -spunger's masonic sort of hint.</p> - -<p>"I insist upon knowing where you have concealed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span> -my apprentice," said Straitlace, trying to put on a -bold look.</p> - -<p>"I've neither concealed him, nor shall I snitch, -and tell you where he is, if you ape the bully," replied -Jinks, with cold mockery.</p> - -<p>"Then, as sure as you sit there, you villain," -answered Straitlace, thinking he should lose the end -of his errand entirely, if he did not keep up the -appearance of determination, "I'll have you before -a magistrate, and imprison you till the boy is produced."</p> - -<p>"I advise you to be cool," answered Jinks, with a -look of such peculiar devilry that it made Straitlace -feel chill with fear: "you wouldn't get me before a -magistrate if you were to try. And, besides, there's -more than one can light a match; and your cottage -will burn, you know,—ay, and your collars and old -saddle traps too."</p> - -<p>Straitlace dared not threaten now; he found that -the fellow knew him; and he felt the peril of the -ground he stood on. He sank on the bench, and -gazed timidly and silently at the broken-down -lawyer's clerk, who evidently enjoyed his triumph.</p> - -<p>"You're cooler, I see," resumed Jinks, and then -looked into the earthen pot again.</p> - -<p>"I don't mind a trifle, by way of recompense," -said Straitlace, torturing his tongue to frame the -words, "if you'll only assist me in recovering my -apprentice."</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span></p> - -<p>"Rayther sensible that," answered Jinks tauntingly; -but still looked into the empty pot.</p> - -<p>Straitlace overcame his own master-passion for the -instant, and placed a half-crown beside the empty -drinking cup; but Jinks instantly pushed it off the -barrel, into the floor, in contempt. Straitlace felt -the blood rush to his neck and face, but once more -struggled with his own reluctance, took up the half-crown, -and laid down a half-sovereign in its stead.</p> - -<p>"Sensible,—very!" observed Jinks, slowly; -and then suddenly starting up, said, "Now, <i>Mister</i> -Jonas Straitlace, what will you give to have this -stray dog of yours put quietly into your hands, -muzzled and collared, so that you may take him home -safely?"</p> - -<p>"Isn't that enough?" said the other leeringly.</p> - -<p>"Two whole sovereigns into my hands to-morrow -morning at seven,—here,—at the bottom of the -steps,—and you have him. Otherwise, there's your -road, Mister Jonas Straitlace," returned Jinks, and -pointed to the stairs.</p> - -<p>The saddler saw he was in a most disadvantageous -position for making a choice, and hesitated.</p> - -<p>"I've other clients, and have no time to fool away -upon you," rejoined Jinks: "speak the word! yes or -no," and moved towards the steps.</p> - -<p>"Then I'll be here at that time," answered Straitlace, -with a mental reservation; and he had scarcely -uttered the words when three knocks were distinctly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span> -given under his feet; but Jinks seized his hand, -hurried him down the steps, and thrust him out, and -bolted the door behind him, with a strength and speed -that caused him to turn round and stare at the closed -door with wonder, when he stood once more in the -twitchel.</p> - -<p>The landlord seized his arm, and recalled him to -the remembrance of where he was. Straitlace evaded -the landlord's inquiries as to the result of his errand, -persuaded that he could best carry into effect the -scheme which had suggested itself to him, with other -aid than that of a person who appeared to have some -connection with Jinks. He marked the way to the -door, and paid particular observance to the passages, -and to the exact locality of the street, and thanking -the landlord for his trouble, took his way home, -somewhat to the surprise of the landlord himself, -who had expected he would return to the public-house.</p> - -<p>On the night succeeding the morning in which -Straitlace had been admitted to that squalid chamber, -the narrow space itself was changed into a hold of -guilty riot and thievish conspiracy. The fumes of -tobacco which filled the room would have rendered -respiration impossible to any but the actual participators -in that scene of infamy; the fog of smoke being -so dense that the human beings there assembled -seemed to be kneaded into the thick vapour rather -than surrounded by it. The struggling flames of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span> -fire which had just been kindled, and was covered by -a huge iron vessel, nearly choked up the draught of -the narrow chimney, and threw an uncertain light -upon the figures which nearly filled the narrow room. -The singular being who was the habitual tenant of -the chamber sat in his broken chair close by the fire, -augmenting the gross sociality of his associates by -the vehemence with which he consumed tobacco in a -wooden pipe; but adding not a word to their busy conversation. -A strong coarse-looking woman, crouched -immediately before the fire, was alternately attempting -to clear a passage for its progress, and slicing -onions from her apron to put into the caldron. Her -short clay pipe, with the filthy black cup scarcely -protruding beyond her nose, showed her attachment -to the favourite excitement of her depraved companions. -Behind her stood the barrel, before described -as the only substitute for a table in Jinks's -room, and upon the end of it was placed a large -metal jug of spirits, which the various members of -the group lifted to their lips, by turns, as inclination -moved them.</p> - -<p>The confused conversation was suspended in a moment -by three distinct and measured raps being given -at the door below; and Jinks jumped up, exclaiming, -"That's the young'un I told you of: I'll let him in." -And he darted down the steps, unbolted the door, -pulled in Sam Simkins, and, in the lapse of scarcely -three minutes, introduced him to the villainous company.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span> -The fellows gazed at Sam, and one swore -that he only looked like a starved rat, and another -said he was more like a stunted badger; but all -agreed that he looked likely to be useful, for he had -a hawk's eye in his head. Sam felt somewhat -loutish at the unrestrained gaze of the thieves; but -Jinks placed him upon the bench next his own chair, -chucked him under the chin, and holding the metal -jug to his mouth, told him to drink. Sam did drink -a little, and thought the draught scorched his throat; -yet in a few minutes he felt a flow of spirits that -completely banished his bashfulness.</p> - -<p>"And so you've cut the starve-gut rascal, eh, -young'un?" said an impudent-looking fellow who sat -on the farther end of the bench, and who was, at -once, the most frequent visitor to the jug, and the -most eager talker in the villainous conclave.</p> - -<p>"What the devil was he to do else?" said Jinks, -seeming to wish to keep off from the lad the assailment -of questions by the gang: "was he to stay and -be pined outright?—Bess," he continued, addressing -the woman, "isn't the stuff ready?"</p> - -<p>"The can's empty," said the fellow who had just -spoken, interrupting Jinks: "we'll have it filled -again."</p> - -<p>"Not to-night," said Jinks, with an oath.</p> - -<p>"Not to-night!—why not, old hang-dog, and be -d—d to ye?" asked the other, dropping his pipe, and -looking as if he would fell his opposer.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span></p> - -<p>"Because there's a job on hand that requires cool -brains, ye guzzling ape!" answered Jinks, in a tone -which showed he was not to be frightened by the -bully, his brother in roguery. "Wide-mouthed Bob -will be here directly, and we must then prepare for -business."</p> - -<p>"What the devil can he be about to be so late?" -cried the woman, who was still squatted before the -fire: "the broth's ready, and I shall pour it out if -he doesn't come in a crack. Hark!" she said,—and -the quarrelsome crew were silent:—"there he is!"</p> - -<p>Jinks started from his broken chair at the sound -of a whistle, hurried down the steps, and was speedily -in his old position again, while the new comer was -welcomed with shouts of "Give us your hand, captain!—success -to ye!"</p> - -<p>"Silence, you fools!" said he who was thus -saluted: "d'ye mean to bring the bull-dogs upon -us?" And he took up the jug, but finding it empty, -he looked discontented. Jinks, however, seized the -jug, removed the barrel from the spot on which it -stood, pulled up a trap-door, and descended, and then -returned with the jug refilled, with the usual rapidity -that characterised his movements.</p> - -<p>"Ay, ay, you know who's come now, old juggler," -said the bully, tauntingly, to Jinks as he again appeared -from the subterraneous room, with the vessel -full of brandy.</p> - -<p>"Yes, and I know that they have a right to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span> -sugar-candy that are the first to put their fingers into -the fire to get it," said Jinks, showing his ugly teeth -very forbiddingly; "and not every skinking coward -that ties his neck to his heels to save it when there's -work to be done."</p> - -<p>The bully returned no answer, seeming conscious -that his cowardice deserved the rebuke.</p> - -<p>"Get the supper-tools out, Jinks," said the woman, -and took the boiling caldron from the fire.</p> - -<p>Jinks climbed upon his chair, and reaching down -a large wooden bowl, from its concealment in the -ceiling of the room, placed it upon the end of the -barrel, and sat down again.</p> - -<p>"Why, you old brute, do ye think we are going to -pig it all out of one trough, on a night like this?" -exclaimed the woman, pouring out the stew into the -bowl:—"reach every man his pap-spoon and dish, -or I'll spoil your grinding before you begin!" and she -aimed a blow, with a brazen ladle, at Jinks's scalp, -which he evaded, and reached forth a set of basins -and spoons from the same strange repository.</p> - -<p>The steamy flavour of Bess's cookery speedily -attracted the appetites of her companions. Limbs of -fowls and game, mingled with the soup, showed the -illicit source from which such a company had obtained -the raw provisions for the meal. Bess poured -out half a basin of the stew first, for the individual -who was called "captain," and filling up the vessel -with brandy from the jug, handed it to the leader,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span> -with a coarse coaxing smile. She then served the -rest, in the order they sat, beginning with Jinks, and -not forgetting the lad. Sam smacked his lips at -such a treat, and congratulated himself on having -taken the advice of Jinks, and run away from his -master. He soon disposed of the contents of his -basin; and then felt strongly attracted to notice the -appearance and behaviour of him whom the thieves -acknowledged as their principal.</p> - -<p>The personal appearance of Wide-mouthed Bob -rendered the dependence of the crew upon his presence -and enterprise, Sam thought, a matter of no -wonder. His stature was full six feet, and the great -breadth of his chest and shoulders, and extreme -length of his arms, terminated by hands of monstrous -size, gave demonstrations of unusual physical power. -The width of his mouth was the most striking feature -in his face, and had procured for him the common -nickname by which Jinks had first mentioned him -during the evening. The forbidding glance of his -large eyes, from under a low forehead, and brows as -shaggy as if they pertained to an ass's colt, with the -bull-dog shape of his head, at the sides, causing his -ears to stand forward after a form scarcely human, -were also peculiarities in the features of the captain-burglar.</p> - -<p>His third basin being despatched by this powerful -animal, for such his peculiarity of frame seemed -to warrant his being termed, the conversation took a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span> -turn for business. Robberies of a cheese warehouse, -a flour shop, a liquor vault, and even of the subterranean -workshop of a "smasher," or maker and vender -of false coin, were planned. The only debate was, -which was to be undertaken first; and as there was -some difficulty in settling this point, the captain -called for the jug to be replenished. Jinks descended -once more, but returned with only half the vessel -full, and, setting it down, declared the barrel below -was empty.</p> - -<p>"Then that determines the point," observed Wide-mouthed -Bob: "we must make our way direct to the -brandy cellar."</p> - -<p>The gang immediately assented,—the liquor was -shared; and in a few minutes, all, save Jinks, and -the woman, and the lad, descended by the stairs, and -departed on their lawless enterprise.</p> - -<p>Sam Simkins had fallen asleep some time before the -departure of the gang, but was awaked by Jinks, as -soon as he had bolted the door and re-ascended the -steps, to receive his first wholesale lesson in villainy. -The lad felt the lesson very unwelcome to his nature, -at the beginning; but the remembrance of the -horrors from which he had escaped, and the promise -and prospect of a wild freedom, and a continuance -of the good fare he had met among the thieves, soon -subdued the inward whisper that he was going -wrong. Jinks and the woman were most successful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span> -in their schooling of Sam, while they dwelt upon his -master's conduct towards him:—</p> - -<p>"But did the nigger-driver never let you play a -bit, Sam?" asked the woman: "you say you always -dropped work at eight, and went to bed at ten:—what -did ye in the two hours, my lad?"</p> - -<p>"I used to read Jeremiah, and the rest of the -prophet-books in the Bible, and Romans, and Corinthians, -and them ere parts of the Testament," answered -Sam: "mester would na let me read owt else, -unless I managed to do it slily."</p> - -<p>"And what did ye think to what you read, Sam?" -asked Jinks, suddenly dropping his pipe, and looking -at the lad with an air of new interest.</p> - -<p>"He, he!" snivelled the lad, and twisted his -thumbs with a loutish look,—"I could na make owt -on 'em!"</p> - -<p>"How the devil were ye likely?" said Jinks: -"that Paul would puzzle a Philadelphia lawyer, for -he was a devilish long-headed fellow, and no mistake; -as for Jeremiah, and the rest of 'em, I know little -about 'em; but it was an ugly slavish way of using -you, my lad,—you'll find the difference now. All -that you have to do is to mind your P's and Q's, -and I'll warrant ye, it'll be a merry life for ye."</p> - -<p>The lad snivelled again, and felt wonderfully -pleased.</p> - -<p>"Now hark ye, Sam," continued Jinks, "who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span> -had your master in the house, besides himself and -you?"</p> - -<p>"The missus," answered Sam; "but hur never -taks no notice o' nowt, hur's ower deeaf."</p> - -<p>"Capital!" exclaimed Jinks, cracking his thumb -and finger; and then the lad received instruction as -to his first grand act of villainy, and while he was receiving -it, Bess prepared the caldron, once more.</p> - -<p>Three hours elapsed, and the whistle of Wide-mouthed -Bob was heard again. Jinks performed his -porter's office as before, and the captain and three -others of the gang speedily tugged up the stairs a -couple of kegs of liquor, which were as speedily -concealed in the subterranean room.</p> - -<p>"Where's the rest o' the birds?" asked the woman.</p> - -<p>"Sent 'em home to roost," replied the captain; -"and now you and all of us must cut, old girl, and -leave Jinks to his cage."</p> - -<p>"But not before we've tasted the new broach," -said the woman.</p> - -<p>"No more tasting of it, this morning," answered -Bob; "we shall soon be blown, if we carry on that -game: we'll have breakfast and go."</p> - -<p>The word of the leader was law. The stew was -again poured up; and when it was devoured, Sam -having his share as before, the chief burglar, and the -other three thieves, with the woman, departed; and -Sam Simkins also set out on the errand for which -Jinks had lately bestowed instruction upon him.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span></p> - -<p>At eight the following morning, Mr. Jonas Straitlace -appeared in the twitchel, as before, and summoned -the attention of Jinks by a bold rap. Jinks -was speedily at the door, and Straitlace was again -admitted into the thievish head-quarters.</p> - -<p>"Now for the chink!" said the broken-down -lawyer.</p> - -<p>"But where's the lad?" asked Straitlace.</p> - -<p>"The moment you down with the dust, that moment -I tell you where he is, safe and sound, and -nearer home than you think of; so that you'll have -very little trouble to seek him," answered Jinks.</p> - -<p>"When I find the lad I'll pay you," said the saddler; -"you may be deceiving me."</p> - -<p>"Why, d—n it!" said Jinks, "what d'ye take me -for?—let that sneaking fellow, who stands squeezed -up in the corner there below, be witness between us."</p> - -<p>Straitlace turned pale; but Jinks was at the bottom -of the stair in a moment, and again ascended, -bringing up a man dressed in a thick top coat that -covered his under dress.</p> - -<p>"Now, let this constable be witness between us," -said Jinks: "he's a respectable man, and you could -not have brought a better man with you."</p> - -<p>Straitlace was amazed;—but he summoned resolution, -and said, "Constable, I insist upon your -taking this man into custody, for having either decoyed -away from me, or concealed, or harboured, my -runaway 'prentice."</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span></p> - -<p>The constable put on a very stupid look, and -answered,—"Why, as to that, I've no proof of any -part of it, you know, and I decline to interfere."</p> - -<p>Straitlace felt confounded at the fact of his own -man, as he had deemed the constable, deserting him, -and stood staring in amazement.</p> - -<p>"Now, Mister Jonas Straitlace," said Jinks, "I'd -have you to remember that I don't give professional -advice for nought, any more than other lawyers. You -came here to ask my help and instruction, and I engaged -to give it you for two sovereigns: pay me that -down, and I undertake that you shall find your apprentice -at home when you return."</p> - -<p>The saddler felt enraged at the villain's impudence, -but the constable was against him:—"If you made -that bargain you had better keep it," said the functionary, -"and if this man breaks it, then I shall -be witness to it." And Straitlace felt he was so -awkwardly fixed in that suspicious place, and between -the two, that he gave Jinks the two sovereigns. -Had he kept a strict watch upon the motions of the -constable and Jinks he would have seen them share -the booty, ere they hurried down the stair.</p> - -<p>Straitlace reached home, and found that Sam had -returned, but was again departed. His deaf wife -could only tell that she had scolded him, and made -him get to work in the shop without his breakfast; -but she did not know when he went off again. The -condition of the "till," in the shop, fully proclaimed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span> -the way in which Sam had employed himself during -his brief stay. It had been forcibly wrested from its -place, though strongly fixed, and robbed of its contents, -which were not great, but were sufficient to -destroy, by their loss, the peace of Mr. Straitlace's -spiritual mind for many a day after.</p> - -<p>Straitlace sat down to his work instead of going -again in search of Sam Simkins. Of what value -would a thief be to me? was one question he asked -himself; and—shall I spend in law, to prosecute him, -more money than I have thrown away already? was -another. A few days after, he met the constable in -Birmingham, and related his disaster. "You act -wisest to keep quiet," said the constable: "it seems -the man kept his word in sending the lad home,—so -that I don't see how you could have the law of -him, there; and as for the young scoundrel, he would -do you no good:—good-day, sir."</p> - -<p>Straitlace did not know whether there was any -soundness in the man's observation about law; but -he was loath to spend more money or lose his time,—so -he gave Sam up.</p> - -<p>The lad returned to Jinks's "hiding-hole," and -received great commendations for the clever way in -which he had used the "jemmy," or small steel crowbar, -which Jinks had entrusted to him. The robbery -of his master's till was his first performance with this -crack tool that old gaol-birds chirp so much of; but -it was not his last, by many a score. He progressed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span> -in skill till he became the favourite comrade of Wide-mouthed -Bob, and the two were the terror of the -neighbourhood for years.</p> - -<p>It could serve no virtuous purpose to detail his -thieveries; and as for the character of the company -he kept, the sketch foregoing may suffice to show -what it was. He was, at length, sent over-sea for -life, in company with the leader and two others of -the gang; while Jinks escaped, only to decoy more -lads into vice, and train them for the hulks or the gallows; -but Mr. Jonas Straitlace, through the grinding -of his customers, lost them,—so that he took no more -apprentices to train up, in his own peculiar way, for -Jinks's second training and perfecting process.</p> - - -<p class="center in0 p3t p3b">END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.</p> - - -<p class="center in0"><span class="smcap">London</span>:<br /> -Printed by <span class="smcap">A. Spottiswoode</span>,<br /> -New-Street-Square.</p> - - - - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>BOOKS RECENTLY PUBLISHED<br /> -<span class="small">BY<br /> -JEREMIAH HOW.</span></h2> -</div> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>In Music folio, Price One Guinea, elegantly bound and gilt,<br /> -the First Volume of</i><br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="large">HOW'S ILLUSTRATED BOOK OF BRITISH<br /> -SONG:</span></p> - -<p>Comprising Sixty of the best Songs, by those famous composers, -Purcell, Arne, Handell, Shield, Jackson, Storace, Linley, and others: -with accompaniments for the piano-forte, newly arranged from the -figured basses of the composers, and notes, Biographical and Historical -by <span class="smcap">George Hogarth</span>, Esq. Each Song is Illustrated by -some eminent artist: amongst others, are drawings by Townsend, -Meadows, Pickersgill, Franklin, Hamerton, Crowquill, Warren, -Topham, Hook, Dodgson, Weigall, Fahey, Anelay, Absolon, and -Weir; engraved by Linton, Gray, Dalziel, Mason, Green, Landells, -Nicholls, Measom, &c.</p> - -<p>The Volume concludes with the whole of the Music and Poetry -introduced in the Tragedy of Macbeth, composed by Matthew Lock; -the Illustrations etched in Glyphography by H. Weir.</p> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>In foolscap octavo, tastefully bound in emblematical cover,<br /> -Price Four Shillings</i>,<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="large">THE MANUAL OF HERALDRY:</span></p> - -<p>Being a concise description of the several terms used, and containing -a Dictionary of every designation in the science. Every one Illustrated -by an Engraving on Wood, of which the volume will contain -at least <span class="smcap">Four Hundred</span>.</p> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>Lately published, in Demy Quarto, tastefully bound in gilt, 21s.</i><br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="large">LAYS AND LEGENDS</span><br /> -Illustrative of English Life.<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -BY CAMILLA TOULMIN.</p> - - -<blockquote> -<p>"This is, in appearance, an elegant volume, such a one as people -like to see on a drawing-room table; for there must be books for -show as well as for use, especially in the height of 'the season.' -The contents do not belie the promise of the exterior. We have a -number of prettily executed engravings, new and old, the subjects -as various as form the exhibition of the Royal Academy: on one -leaf a pageant of chivalry, by Stephanoff; on another a rural solitude, -by Creswick; on another a storm over a harvest-field, by -Westall; on others, a cottage girl by Gainsborough, portraits of -beauties by Uwins and Chalon, landscapes by Turner, and so on -to the concluding plate, from one of Collins's charming forest scenes, -with village children, whose very rags are picturesque, and whose -smiles are the ideal of rustic joy. Miss Toulmin has constructed a -pretty, feeling tale, which embraces all those subjects—a task an -author less ingenious might have given up in despair, but which she -has happily accomplished. The course of the story is varied by -romantic episodes and poetic legends. The object Miss Toulmin -proposed to herself she has effectively worked out, and connected -recollections of the romance of the past with a tale illustrative of the -incidents of the present."—<i>Britannia.</i></p> -</blockquote> - - -<p>The above Volume may also be had handsomely bound in morocco, -<i>Price</i> 31<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>In Two Volumes, Price 14s. cloth.</i><br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="large">HIGH LIFE IN NEW YORK.</span><br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -BY JONATHAN SLICK, ESQ.</p> - - -<blockquote> -<p>"How Jonathan Slick went to see Madame Celeste, and his opinions -thereon, and how Fanny Elsler sought him, and his opinions -of her, will amuse the reader who seeks them, in these volumes. -How, at a milliner's, Jonathan mistook a pair of <i>French corsets</i> for a -side saddle—and a capital tale of a milliner which he tells amid -some other records of the sorrows of milliner life—are, also, worth -referring to at the same source."—<i>Athenæum.</i></p> - -<p>"If this is not Sam Slick under a new prænomen, it is a capital -imitation."—<i>Spectator.</i></p> -</blockquote> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>With One Hundred Engravings, square royal, Price 14s. in cloth.</i><br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="large">THE RHINE:</span><br /> -Its Scenery, and Historical and Legendary Associations.<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -BY FRED. KNIGHT HUNT.<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<i>This beautiful Volume is dedicated by Special Command to<br /> -Her Majesty.</i></p> - -<p>The Rhine Book, by an arrangement entirely novel, seeks to separate -the Romance of Travel from its Commonplace. Numerous -Illustrations from original sketches, and all the attractions of the -finest printing, render the volume worthy of the library, the -drawing-room, or the boudoir, whilst it unites with its claims -to elegance those points of practical usefulness necessary in a -Guide Book. Dates, distances, times, and prices, are fully and exactly -stated, to enable the Tourist to know and regulate his expenses -at pleasure, and to avoid those extortions to which, when -destitute of such information, he would most certainly be subject.</p> - - -<blockquote> -<p>"Our perusal of the book enables us to say that it fully bears out -this description of its contents. The information necessary for the -comfort and convenience of the Tourist, down to the most minute -particulars, is exact and satisfactory; and the general reader will -find poetry, romance, and legendary lore sufficient to rouse his imagination -and gratify his curiosity, though he should never visit the -scenes to which they belong. The volume is richly embellished -with vignettes representing the most remarkable objects and most -picturesque features of scenery, executed with the beauty for which -Mr. How's illustrated publications are so highly distinguished."—<i>John -Bull.</i></p> - -<p>"We can with truth recommend this volume as combining more -entertaining matter with a large quantity of really useful information -than we have hitherto seen in any work on the Rhine."—<i>Sunday -Times.</i></p> -</blockquote> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>Illustrated by Cruickshank. 8vo. Price 9s. bound.</i><br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="large">TOM RACQUET AND HIS THREE MAIDEN<br /> -AUNTS.</span><br /> -With a Word or Two about "The Whittleburys."<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -BY CHARLES W. MANBY.</p> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>Square Royal, Price One Guinea, in scarlet cloth, richly gilt.</i><br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="large">THE OLD FOREST RANGER;</span><br /> -OR,<br /> -Wild Sports of India,</p> - -<p>On the Neilgherry Hills, in the Jungles, and on the Plains. By -Capt. <span class="smcap">Walter Campbell</span>, of Skipness, late of the 7th Royal Fusileers. -The Second Edition revised, with Eight Lithotint Plates, -and several Woodcuts.</p> - - -<blockquote> -<p>"A second edition in a twelvemonth is, in a not unimportant -particular, highly intelligible criticism. And Captain Campbell -deserves his success. A new subject, and very fresh and hearty -treatment, are intelligible claims to it. His book describes the more -exciting of the field sports of India. Tiger and boar hunting, deer -stalking, bison and bear shooting, are among the perilous exploits -and hair-breadth 'scapes of the adventurous forest ranger. It is a -dainty-looking volume for such rough scenes, but the lithograph -illustrations are full of character."—<i>Examiner.</i></p> -</blockquote> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><span class="large">THE BOOK OF BRITISH BALLADS.</span><br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -EDITED BY S. C. HALL, F.S.A.</p> - -<p>This beautiful work, in its completed form, consists of nearly -Four Hundred Wood Engravings, illustrating upwards of Sixty of -the choicest British Ballads.</p> - -<p>The illustrations have been engraved in all instances by the most -eminent British wood-engravers from drawings by Herbert, A.R.A., -Redgrave, A.R.A., Creswick, A.R.A., Franklin, Corbould, Meadows, -Paton, Townsend, Sibson, and others.</p> - -<p>Two Volumes, imperial octavo, <i>Price One Guinea</i> each in cloth, -or 36<i>s.</i> in morocco.</p> - -<p>The work may be had also bound in one volume, <i>Two Guineas</i> -in cloth, and <i>Three Guineas</i> in morocco.</p> - -<p>A few copies on India paper mounted, Price 3<i>l.</i> 3<i>s.</i> each Volume.</p> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>In Octavo, Price Five Shillings</i>,<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="large">THE PALFREY:</span><br /> -A Love Story of Olden Time.<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -BY LEIGH HUNT.<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -With Six Illustrations by Meadows, Franklin, and Scott.</p> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>A New Edition in Three Volumes Imperial 8vo. with above Five<br /> -Hundred Engravings, Three Guineas, in handsome cloth</i>,<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="large">IRELAND,</span><br /> -Its Scenery, Character, &c. &c.<br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -BY MR. AND MRS. S. C. HALL.</p> - -<p>This work, being now complete, is recommended to all who desire -acqaintance with Ireland. In testimony of its impartiality, the Publisher -refers to the recorded opinions of the several leading Journals -of England and Scotland of all parties; more especially to those of -the two great political organs, after the volumes were brought to a -close:—</p> - - -<blockquote> -<p>"Many books and pamphlets have been written, since the beginning -of the present century, in regard to the social, moral, and -physical condition of Ireland; but generally those works have resulted -from meditation in the closet rather than from actual observation -of the country and its inhabitants. Most of them, too, have -been composed for party purposes, or party objects; and, if we -except a few books of an historic character, and one or two others -limited to particular subjects, there was, till the appearance of the -volumes before us, hardly a single work, within our knowledge, -relating to Ireland, which we should be inclined to praise for its -moderation, accuracy, and impartiality. The book presents us with -a body of facts relating to the sister kingdom, which, being the -result of personal observation and investigation, ought at this moment -to command the attentive consideration of all who are interested in -its welfare and prosperity. Written in a spirit of great moderation, -although not entirely free from political bias, the work evinces -throughout a desire to exhibit things as they really are, and to -extend equal-handed justice to all parties and to all sects. The work -abounds with illustrations, which are beautifully executed, and the -sketches of national character with which it is interspersed will -afford ample amusement to those who would, without them, have -perhaps but little inclination to peruse the more valuable portions of -the work."—<i>Times</i>, October 12, 1843.</p> - -<p>"The most popular work on the beauties and characteristics of -Ireland, as a whole, which has appeared for many years, has been -brought to a close. For its impartiality and truthfulness the two -editors have been more than once complimented by persons of -every party; and the same distinguishing features which marked the -early numbers have been preserved to the very close. Partisans -may differ from the conclusions at which Mr. and Mrs. Hall have -arrived, but no one will venture to say that either the lady or her -husband have misstated or misrepresented any thing."—<i>Morning -Chronicle</i>, Nov. 10.</p> - -<p>"Next to Maria Edgeworth, there is no writer to whose pen -Ireland is more deeply indebted for the generous advocacy of its -claims, and graphic delineation of its living manners, by which the -sympathies of the reader are engaged on behalf of its long oppressed -population, than Mrs. Hall. No one more competent, as well as -willing, to do justice to Ireland, could have been selected for the -present task, than this very lively writer and her literary partner."—<i>The -Patriot.</i></p> -</blockquote> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><span class="large">TORRINGTON HALL;</span><br /> -Being an Account of Two Days, in the Autumn of 1844, passed at -that philosophically conducted Asylum for the Insane. By <span class="smcap">Arthur -Wallbridge</span>. Foolscap 8vo. with Two Engravings, <i>Price</i> 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p> - - -<blockquote> -<p>"Instead of a silly puff of some real lunatic asylum, as we surmised -from the advertisement, it proves to be a quaint <i>jeu d'esprit</i>, satirising -the present arrangements of society. Torrington Hall is, in fact, a -clever little volume of innovatory ideas with regard to the definition -of madness and the principle of competition.</p> - -<p>"The volume contains conversations on the present arrangements -of society, and the means of improving them—all pointing to a plan -which shall realise fully the dictates of Christianity, and make the -world a scene of pleasant affection, instead of one of fretful contention."—<i>Chambers' -Edinburgh Journal.</i></p> -</blockquote> - - -<hr class="style1" /> - -<p class="center in0"><i>2 Vols., Half-a-crown each.</i><br /> -<span class="vspace"> </span><br /> -<span class="large">THE EPICURE'S ALMANACK;</span></p> - -<p>Containing a choice and original receipt, or a valuable hint, for every -day in the year, the result of actual experience, applicable to the -enjoyment of the good things of this life, consistently with the view -of those who study genteel economy. By <span class="smcap">Benson Hill, Esq.</span></p> - - -<blockquote> -<p>"Very many of Mr. Hill's receipts are <i>recherché</i> affairs, that have -not hitherto appeared in print; and the report of a small committee -of taste, which we have directed to test them, assures us that any -one of them is worth the whole price of the volumes."—<i>United -Service Gazette.</i></p> - -<p>"A capital manual for the lover of good eating, in which every -day in the year has its appropriate dish or drink for the season -assigned to it. The writer greatly enhances the intrinsic merits of -his book by the pleasant style in which he occasionally garnishes -his subjects as he serves them up."—<i>Argus.</i></p> -</blockquote> - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Wise Saws and Modern Instances, Volume -1 (of 2), by Thomas Cooper - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WISE SAWS, MODERN INSTANCES, VOL 1 *** - -***** This file should be named 55951-h.htm or 55951-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/9/5/55951/ - -Produced by Larry B. 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