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mignonette, from her own little garden, or got the fellow in a cleft stick about that petiwoodland posies that might beseem the hand tion the other day? He persuaded old Jacob, of the faerie queen, composed of those gems who's as deaf as a post, to put his mark to it, of flowers, the scarlet pimpernel, and the blue and when he was gone, Jacob came to me (I'm anagallis, the rosy star of the wild geranium, the only man in the parish who can make him with its aromatic crimson-tipped leaves, the hear) to ask what it was about. So upon my snowy star of the white ochil, and that third explaining the matter, Jacob found he had got starry flower the yellow loose-strife, the milk into the wrong box. But as the chap had vetch, purple, or pink, or cream coloured, taken away his petition, and Jacob could not backed by moss-like leaves and lilac blossoms scratch out his name, what does he do but set of the lousewort, and overhung by the fragrant his mark to ours o' t'other side; and we've bells and cool green leaves of the lily of the wrote all about it to Sir Robert to explain to .valley. It would puzzle the gardener to sur- the Parliament, lest seeing Jacob's name both pass the elegance and delicacy of such a ways like, they should think 'twas he, poor nosegay.
fellow, that meant to humbug 'em. A pretty Offerings like these did our miller's maiden figure Mr. ’Dolphus 'll cut when the story delight to bring at all seasons, and under all comes to be told in the House of Commons ! circumstances, whether of peace or war be- But that's not the worst. He took the petition tween the heads of the two opposite houses; to the workhouse, and meeting with little Fan and whenever there chanced to be a lull in the Ropley, who had been taught to write at our storm, she availed herself of the opportunity to charity-school, and is quick at her pen, he add to her simple tribute a dish of eels from makes her sign her name at full length, and the mill-stream, or perch from the river.- then strikes a dot over the e to turn it into That the thought of Edward (" dear Edward,” Francis, and persuade the great folk up at as she always called him,) might not add Lunnun, that little Fan's a grown-up man. If somewhat of alacrity to her attentions to his that chap won't come some day to be transwayward aunt, I will not venture to deny, but ported for forgery, my name's not John Stokes! she would have done the same if Edward had Well, dame, will you let Ned have the money ! not been in existence, from the mere effect of Yes or no?" her own peace-making spirit, and a generosity That Mrs. Deborah should have suffered the of nature which found more pleasure in giving good miller to proceed with his larangue withthan in possessing. A sweet and happy out interruption, can only be accounted for on creature was Cicely; it was difficult even for the score of the loudness of tone on which Mrs. Deborah to resist her gentle voice and he piqued himself with so much justice. artless smiles.
When she did take up the word, her reply Affairs were in this posture between the made up in volubility and virulence for any belligerents, sometimes war to the knife, some deficiency in sound, concluding by a formal retimes a truce under favour of Cissy's white nunciation of her nephew, and a command to Hlag, when one October evening, John Stokes his zealous advocate never again to appear entered the dwelling of his kinswoman to in- within her doors. Upon which, honest John form her that Edward's apprenticeship had vowed he never would, and departed. been some time at an end, that he had come of Two or three days after this quarrel, Mr. age about a month ago, and that his master, Adolphus having arrived, as happened not un
for whom he had continued to work, was so frequently, to spend the afternoon at Chalcott, satisfied of his talents, industry, and integrity, persuaded his hostess to accompany him to that he had offered to take him into partnership see a pond drawn at the Hall, to which, as the for a sum incredibly moderate, considering the daughter of one of Sir Robert's old tenants, advantages which such a connexion would she would undoubtedly have the right of ensure.
entrée; and Mrs. Deborah assented to his re“You have more than the money wanted in quest, partly because the weather was fine, the Belford Bank, money that ought to have and the distance short, partly, it may be, from been his," quoth John Stokes, “besides all a lurking desire to take her chance as a by. your property in land and houses and the stander of a dish of fish; they who need soch fund; and if you did advance this sum, which windfalls least, being commonly those who all the world knows is only a small part of are most desirous to put themselves in their what should have belonged to him in right of way. his father, it would be as safe as if it was in Mr. Adolphus Lynfield's reasons were obthe Bank of England, and the interest paid vious enough. Besides the ennui of a tête-àhalf-yearly. You ought to give it him out tête, all flaitery on one side, and contradiction and out; but of course you won't even lend on the other, he was naturally of the fidgety, it,” pursued this judicious negotiator; "you restless temperament which hates to be long keep all your money for that precious chap, confined to one place or one occupation, and Mr. 'Dolphus, to make ducks and drakes with can never hear of a gathering of people, whatafter you are dead; a fine jig he'll dance over ever might be the occasion, without longing to your grave. You know, I suppose, that we've find himself amongst them.
Moreover, he had, or professed to have, a ly “as maids of puppy dogs.” They were passion for field sports of every description; away. But enough of the household remainand having that very season contrived, with ed at Chalcott, to compose, with a few visithis usual curious infelicity, to get into as ers, a sufficiently numerous and animated many scrapes in shooting as shall last most group. sportsmen their whole lives--having shot a The first person whom Mrs. Deborah espied, spaniel instead of a hare, a keeper instead of (and it is remarkable that we always see first a partridge, and his own foot instead of a those whom we had rather not see at all,) was pheasant, and finally, having been taken up for her old enemy the miller,-a fisherman of so a poacher, although wholly innocent of the much experience and celebrity, that his predeath of any bird that ever wore feathers,- sence might have been reckoned upon as cerafter all these woeful experiences, (to say no- tain - busily engaged, together with some thing of mischances in angling which might half-dozen stout and active coadjutors, in put to shame those of our friend Mr. Thomp- dragging the net ashore, amidst a chorus of son,) he found himself particularly well dis- exclamations and cautions from the various posed to a diversion which appeared to com- assistants, and the breathless expectation of bine in most choice union the appearance of the spectators on the bank, amongst whom sporting, which he considered essential to his were Mrs. Thornby and Cicely, accompanied reputation, with a most happy exemption from by a tall, athletic young man of dark comthe usual sporting requisites, exertion or skill. plexion, with peculiarly bright eyes and curlAll that he would have to do would be to look ing hair, whom his aunt immediately recogon and talk,-to throw out a hint here and a nised as Edward. suggestion there, and find fault with every “ How improved he is !" was the thought thing and everybody, like a man who under that flashed across her mind, as with an air of stood what was going forward.
respectful alacrity he stepped forward to meet The weather was most propitious; a bright her; but the miller, in tugging at his nets, breezy sunny October day, with light snowy happened to look towards them, and ashamed clouds, chased by a keen crisp wind across that he of all men should see her change of the deep blue heavens, — and the beautiful feeling, she turned away abruptly, without park, the turf of an emerald green, contrasting acknowledging his salutation, and walked off with the brown fern and tawny woods, rival- to the other side with her attendant, Mr. Adolling in richness and brightness the vivid hues phus. of the autumnal sky. Nothing could exceed “ Drat the perverse old jade !” exclaimed the gorgeous tinting of the magnificent trees, John Stokes, involuntarily, as he gave a which, whether in detached clumps or forest-mighty tug, which brought half the net ashore. like masses, formed the pride and glory of the “She's heavy, my good sir!" observed the place. The oak still retaining its dark and pompous butler, conceiving that the honest heavy verdure; the elm letting fall a shower miller's exclamation had reference to the of yellow leaves, that tinged the ground be- sport; “only see how full she is ! We shall neath; the deep orange of the horse-chestnut, have a magnificent haul !" the beech varying from ruddy gold to greenish And the spectators, male and female, crowdbrown; and above all, the shining green of ed round, and the fishermen exerted themselves the holly, and the rich purplish red of the old so efficiently, that in two minutes the net was thorns, those hoary thorns, the growth of cen on dry land. turies, gave to this old English gentleman's “ Nothing but weeds and rubbish !” ejacuseat much of the variety and beauty of the lated the disappointed butler, a peculiarly American backwoods. The house, a stately blank look taking the place of his usual selfancient mansion, from the porch of which you importance. " What can have become of the might expect to see Sir Roger de Coverley fish?" issue, stood half-way up a gentle hill, finely "The net has been improperly drawn," ob
backed by woods of great extent; and the served Mr. Adolphus ; " I myself saw four pond, which was the object of the visit, was or five large carp just before it was dragged within sight of the windows, but so skilfully ashore !" veiled by trees, as to appear of much greater “ Better fling you in, master 'Dolphus, by extent than it really was.
way of bait!" ejaculated our friend the miller; The master and mistress of the Hall, with “I've seen jacks in this pond that would their pretty daughters, were absent on a tour : make no more bones of swallowing a leg or |--Is any English country family ever at home an arm of such an atomy as you, if they did in the month of October, in these days of not have a try at the whole body, than a shark fashionable enterprise? They were gone to would of bolting down Punch in the show. visit the temples of Thebes or the ruins of As to carp, everybody that ever fished a pond Carthage, the Fountains of the Nile or the knows their tricks. Catch them in a net if Falls of Niagara, St. Sophia or the Kremlin, you can. They swim round and round, just or some such pretty little excursion, which to let you look at 'em, and then they drop ladies and gentlemen now talk of as familiar- | plump into the mud, and lie as still and as
close as so many stones. But come, Mr. “ Better not,” responded John Stokes; Tomkins," continued honest John, addressing “ * you'll want it altered to-morrow.” the butler, “we'll try again. I'm minded " What's that you say, cousin John ?" inthat we shall have better luck this time. Here quired the spinster. are some brave large tench, which never move " That if you make your will to night, you'll till the water is disturbed ; we shall have a change your mind to-morrow," reiterated John good chance for them as well as for the jacks. Stokes. “ Ned's going to be married to my Now, steady there, you in the boat. Throw Cicely,” added he, “and that you mayn't like, her in, boys, and mind you don't draw too or if you did like it this week, you might not fast!” So to work they all went again. like it next. So you'd better let matters rest
All was proceeding prosperously, and the as they are." net, evidently well filled with fish, was drag “ You're a provoking man, John Stokes," ging slowly to land, when John Stokes shout- said his cousin—"a very provoking obstinate ed suddenly from the other side of the pond-man. But I'll convince you for once. Take “ Dang it, if that unlucky chap, master 'Dol- that key, Mrs. Thornby,” quoth she, raising phus there, has not got hold of the top of the herself in bed, and fumbling in an immense net! He'll pull it over. See, that great jack pair of pockets for a small old-fashioned key, has got out already. Take the net from him, “and open the 'scrutoire, and give me the pen Tom! He 'll let all the fish loose, and tumble and ink, and the old narrow brown book, that in himself, and the water at that part is deep you'll find at the top. Not like his marrying enough to drown twenty such manikins. Cicely! Why I always have loved that Not that I think drowning likely to be his child—don't cry, Cissy! -- and have always fate,--witness that petition business," mutter- had cause, for she has been a kind little creaed John to himself in a sort of parenthesis. ture to me. Those dahlias came from her, and “Let go, I say, or you will be in. Let go, the sweet posy," pursued Mrs. Deborah, pointcan't ye?" added he, in his loudest tone. ing to a nosegay of autumn flowers, the old
And with the word, Mr. Adolphus, still fragrant monthly rose, mignonette, heliotrope, struggling to retain his hold of the net, lost cloves, and jessamine, which stood by the bedo ! his balance and fell in, and catching at the side. Ay, that's the book, Mrs. Thornby ;, person next him, who happened to be Mrs. and there, Cissy," continued Aunt Deborah, Deborah, with the hope of saving himself, filling up the check, with a sum far larger than dragged her in after him.
that required for the partnership — " there, Both sank, and amidst the confusion that Cissy, is your marriage portion. Don't cry ensued, the shrieks and sobs of the women, so, child !" said she, as the affectionate girl the oaths and exclamations of the men, the hung round her neck in a passion of grateful danger was so imminent that both might have tears—“don't cry, but find out Edward, and' been drowned,
had not Edward Thornby, has- send for the lawyer, for I'm determined to tily flinging off his coat and hat, plunged in settle my affairs to-night.
John and rescued Mrs. Deborah, whilst good John Stokes, I know I've been a cross old woman, Stokes, running round the head of the pond as but.. nimbly as a boy, did the same kind office for “ Cousin Deborah," interrupted John, seizhis prime aversion, the attorney's clerk. What ing her withered hand with a grip like a smith's a sound kernel is sometimes hidden under a vice,-" Cousin Deborah, thou hast acted norough and rugged rind !
bly, and I beg thy pardon once for all. God Mr. Adolphus, more frightened than hurt, bless thee !-Dang it,” added the honest miller and with so much of the conceit washed out to himself, “I do verily believe that this of him by his involuntary cold bath, that it squabbling has been mainly my fault, and that might be accounted one of the most fortunate if I had not been so provoking she would not accidents in his life, was conveyed to the have been so contrary. Well, she has made hall; but her own house being almost equally us all happy, and we must try to make her near, Mrs. Deborah was at once taken home, happy, in return. If we did not, we should and put comfortably to bed in her own chamber. deserve to be soused in the fish-pond along
About two hours afterwards, the whole of with that unhappy chap, Master 'Dolphus. the miller's family, Mrs. Thornby still pallid For my part,” continued the good yeoman, and trembling, Cicely smiling through her forming with great earnestness a solemn resolutears, and her father as blunt and free-spoken tion— for my part, I've fully made up my as ever, were assembled round the homely mind never to contradict her again, say what couch of their maiden cousin.
she will. No, not if she says black's white! “I tell you I must have the lawyer fetched It's contradiction that makes women contrary; directly. I can't sleep till I have made my it sets their backs up, like. I'll never contradict will;" said Mrs. Deborah.
her again, so long as my name's John Stokes."
EXTRACTS FROM FINDEN'S TABLEAUX.
[The following pieces are contributions of Miss Mitford to “Finden's Tableaux," of which
Annual she was the editor.]
geant, at joust, and at tournament, ever since
his return from the wars! Men say that, for In commending this volume to the public, all that he hath fought against the Soldan, and the editor has little to say, beyond the pleas- carried the “ blanche-lion,” the old banner of ant duty of thanking her accomplished coadju- of France and Italy, he hath rather the mien
his house, foremost among the proud chivalry tors for such poetry, and, in one instance, such of a young page than of a stalwart warrior, so prose, as may render her pages no unfit com- smooth and fair is his brow, so graceful his panion to the beautiful engravings which they form, so gentle and courteous his bearing. are intended to illustrate.
Still amort, Sweeting! mute as a marble For her own poor part, she has only to solicit image on thy very bridal eve!” And the good for stories necessarily brief, and written, from
old Margaret, seeing her lady still unmoved,
paused for very vexation. circumstances over which she had no control,
“So generous a wooer too!” exclaimed one in more than usual haste, the same indulgence of the attendant maidens, glancing at the prowhich has been extended to the productions, fusion of rich gifts with which a heavy wain -over-numerous, perhaps,—which she has had been laden, and which had arrived that sent forth during the last fifteen years. It is very day at the castle, under convoy of the
good knight's squire, and a score or two of right to mention, that the two songs in one of
pages and men-at-arms, and which now lay in her little tales, have been stolen from herself; magnificent profusion about the tapestried being verses that she did not quite wish to die; chamber, scattered amidst the quaint antique and which had appeared in two works out of furniture, high-backed ebony chairs, oaken print, and, to all intents and purposes, as good screens, cut into mimic lace-work; marble or as bad as manuscript.
slabs, resting on gilded griffins, or some such
picturesque monsters of heraldry; and huge Three Mile Cross, September 19th, 1837.
cabinets, composed of the rarest woods, an
entire history, profane or sacred, carved upon the doors, and surmounted with spires and
pinnacles, like the decorated shrine of a Gothic ENGLAND.
cathedral; the whole scene, lighted up by the
bright beams of the evening sun, coloured into THE KING'S WARD.
a thousand vivid hues, as they glanced through s I have no joy of this contract to-night."
the storied panes of the oriel window. A scene more bright, or more gorgeous, than that state
ly lady's bower, tenanted, as it was, by wo66 What! not a word to thy poor old nurse, man in her fairest forms, by venerable age and or thy faithful bower-women? Not a nod, or blooming youth, could hardly be found in a smile, or a kindly look, to show that thou merry England. Yet there sat the youthful heedest us? Thou that wast wont to be the lady of the castle, in the midst of all this costmerriest and kindliest damsel in merry Cum- ly beauty, languid and listless, pale and moberland, the fair and the noble Edith Clifford, tionless as a statue. the wealthiest maiden north of Trent, about to "So generous a wooer, too!” exclaimed be wedded, too, to the young Philip Howard, Mistress Mabel, the pretty bright-eyed bruthe goodliest and the bravest knight of king nette, the Lady Edith's principal bower-woHenry's court, for whose favour the gay dames man, who being reckoned the best adjuster of of the south have been trying and vying at pa- | a head-tire, and the most skiltul professor of 47 *
all arts of the loom and the needle, whether heard, and the voice of the minstrel arose from in white-seam, cut work, tapestry, or broidery, beneath the casement:of any maiden in the north country, was more
** Waken to pleasure, especially alive to the rarity and richness of
Lady sweet! Sir Philip's gifts.
Lo! an empire's treasure “ So generous a wooer, too! only look at
Is spread at thy feet: these carpets frorn Persia! "Tis a marvel how
Here be shawls of Cashmere fine;
Rubies from Bucharia's mine ; folk can bave the heart to put foot on such
The pear-shaped pearls ot' Ormuz' bay; bright flowers; they seem as if they were
And gold, 'mid Yemen's sands ibat iaf. growing! And these velvets from Genoa; Waken to pleasure, were ever such colours seen? And the silken
Lady sweet! stuils from Padua, that stand on end with their
Love, and love's treasure,
Be spread at thy feet." own richness; what kirtles and mantles they will make! and the gloves of Cales, that cause The air was smooth and flowing, and the the chamber to smell like a garden full of spice, voice of Robert Fitz-Stephen, one of the most cloves, and jessamine! And these veils from approved of the courtly minstrels : but still the
the Low Countries, as fine as a spider's web! Lady Edith sat pale and motionless, as though And the cloth of gold, and the cloth of silver, the tide of melody had glided unfelt over her —where did Master Eustace say they came senses, producing no more impression than the from, Dame Margaret? And this golden ves waters of the lake upon the plumage of the sel for perfumes, which looks like a basket all cygnet. over-run with grapes and ivy ?”
Dame Margaret sighed deeply; and Mabel, ** That was wrought by a cunning goldsmith giving her head a provoked impatient jerk, teof Florence,” responded old Margaret, “whose sumed her embroidery with such furious rapidskill is so surpassing, that, albeit he employs ity, that she broke her silk half-a-dozen tiines chiefly the precious metals, the workmanship in the course of a minute, and well-nigh spoiled is of more value than the materials. This the carnation upon which she was engaged, silver tray, with the delicate trellis-work, and which she had intended to outvie the na
wreathed with lilies and roses round the edge, tural blossom in Father Francis's flower-borand the story of Diana and Ac—Ac—fie onder. Young Alice, drawing her tapestry-frame my old brains! I shall forget my own name nearer to them, and further from the Lady soon!— Diana and he that was turned into a Edith, and speaking in a low tone, even lower
than her own soft and gentle natural voice, " Actæon !" whispered Alice, the fairest resumed the conversation. and most youthful of the Lady Edith's atlen “For my poor part, good Mabel (call me dants, gently and unostentatiously supplying foolish an' thou wilt), I do not wonder at our the good dame's failure of memory, without sweet lady's sadness. Think what a piteous looking up from her work.
thing it is to be an orphan; think but of that “Ay, Actæon! I thank thee, Alice. Thy great grief! And then to be a great heir to wits are younger than mine by fifty good years, boot, left in the king's ward, and dragged from
This silver salver, with the light her old dear home in her old dear north coundelicate edge, that seems like the work of the trie, to this fine grand castle (which, albeit fairies, and the story of Diana and Actæon in- her own also in right of her lady mother, side, is by the saine hand.”
seems too strange and too grand for happi" And then the caskets of precious stones!" ness and all for the purpose of being wedded pursued the enthusiastic waiting damsel, to this young lord, with his costly glittering warming at the contemplation of the finery. gifts, who hath never vouchsaled to come near “ The brooches and bracelets! The coronets her until now, on the very eve of the bridal, and the carkanets! why, yonder wreath of when it hath pleased him to give notice of his emeralds and amethysts, which lies on the ta- approach. Holy St. Agatha defend me from ble underneath the great Venetian glass—to such a wooer! A wooer, whose actions show, think of my lady never having had the curios- as plainly as words could tell, that he seeketh ity to look into that!" (and Mistress Mabel the Lady Edith's broad lands, and careth as took a self-satisfied peep at her own pretty fig- little for the Lady Edith's warm heart, as I do ure, as it was reflected on the broad clear sur- for a withered rose-leaf. I'll tell thee what, face of the rare and costly mirror,) " that sin- Mabel, I never look to see such happy days gle wreath, which she hath never vouchsafed again, as when we dwelt in our old dear home, to glance upon: and the ropes of pearl which amongst the pleasant vales and breezy noun I laid upon her lap, and which she hath let tains of Cumberland. There was health and drop upon the floor;—do pick them up, Alice! | freedom in the very air. Dost thou not re-I verily believe the foolish wench careth as member the day when old Geoffrey the falconer little for these precious adornments as the La- had lamed himself among the rocks, and the dy Edith herself! That one wreath, and those youth Albert, the travelling minstrel, took strings of pearl, be worth an earl's ransom." charge of the hawks, and waited on my lady,
At this moment the sound of a harp was as if he had been trained to the sport all his