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playful, smooth switch occasionally. And as for voice. He knows the fair value of the pig, and dogs!-I should like to see a dog show his face asks it. He cannot obtain it; and yet he does so among nobility, and under exasperating circum- want to sell the pig. stances : he would be torn to pieces, and trampled The only “ fun of the fair" is the pig's invariainto mud before their wrath. They are not here, in ble resistance to the examination of the buyer's any sense, a " drove" nor a "herd," but each one hand, with the perversity of the buyer, after he is asserts his own individual state of mind and pas- held fast, in persisting to feel those parts where he sion. This may be defined as a state of equal in- is least fat, instead of those which are most plump, dignation, rage, and the worst suspicions all fusing and to which, with ludicrous anxiety and elotogether. The pigs have found out that some mis- quence, the peasant in vain endeavors to direct the chief is intended to them! They have, in their buyer's attention. Amidst this the pig often brusque way, laid their heads together by threes crouches close down to the ground, and screams and fours, and the conviction has spread among with all his might. Perhaps, however, he may be them. They have literally become wild beasts, docile from cunning, and some finesse in his mind, and like wild beasts do they behave. They snarl, in which case he only holds down his head coyly. and squeak, and scream, and yell, and growl, and But generally he is in a rage, and has to be utter curses, and gnash, and foam at the mouth, soothed and scratched, as he sits up on his and bite, and brawl, and rush, snout-foremost, haunches with a savage unappeasable counteunder the wheels of carts, or between the most nance. crowded legs of men. They are brought back in At length a bargain is made completea pig is vain ; for they struggle, and shriek, and gnash, sold. The buyer marks him with his especial and burst away; and when two by accident meet mark—some mark with scissor-lines cut in the suddenly face to face, they seek instant relief of bristles, some with red ochre, some with black their feelings by a fight, to which they stand up in chalk--and ostentatiously displays money while lion-and-unicorn fashion. While thus they gnash paying, and talks of much more. A poor, little and bite, behind each one you see an excited peas-old woman in rags, and with a small, pale face, ant, embracing the loins of his warlike pork, in comes meekly to listen, and is attentive to the talk anguish lest the price should be lowered in the of all this money. She goes away very humbly, buyer's eye by the unseemly disfigurements of but seems all the better for what she has hcard. battle. •
A deplorable ballad-singer, more than half-naked, But who are the buyers of all these alarming fills up any temporary dimination that may occur pigs! Behold him standing there, with one hand in the noise of the fair. in his pocket, the finger of the other pointing con- On the outskirts of the town, peasants are seen temptuously at a very good pig. He has a short driving sold pigs to the buyers' carts or quarters. dudeen in his mouth, and smokes and speaks care-Yon may know to a certainty by the man's face lessly at the same time. Smoke issucs with near- and air if he has sold the pig according to his prely all his words. The man who buys the pig has vious mind. Not often will you see a satisfied a knowing, satirical, purse-proud, knavish, re- smile lurking round his mouth, but the corners morseless face and air. He has, moreover, a drawn straight with disappointment, as he looks tongue to match it-wily, would-be-witty, over-down reproachfully at the pig for having misbebearing, false, unfeeling, and dishonest. He is haved himself at the fair-in not rendering himself evidently an agent in the matter, and gets a per- docile to the buyer's fingers, and more entertaining centage. This makes a clever screw of him. It in all his natural blandishments. is not his own money he so vulgarly displays, to A fiddle sounds from a little coffee-shop in the dazzle the eyes of poor Pat, and make him catch fair. All the business then is done. There is a at the first offer, however inadequate, as it is sure crowd yonder, at one side of the market place, to be, first or last--unless Pat happens to be very standing in a circle. Is it a fight—not of pigs, but sharp indeed, which sometimes proves to be the of men! What occasions the disturbance! No; case. In general, however, he has little chance it can be no fight-no disturbance; for everybody with these buyers. The buyer makes his first is standing quietly, and silently too ; and there is offer, after sufficiently depreciating the pig. The one man who has a very sad face of sorrow and peasant knows it is worth more, and refuses. A perplexity, as though he had lost something. Let little haggling ensues, and the buyer venting yet us approach. further contempt on the pig in question, walks All is explained. lipon several planks and half carelessly, scoffing and smoking, in an opposite di- a door lies some huge form, covered over with a rection, and immediately commences a negotiation large, coarse, white sheet. At one end, beyond the touching other pigs. The buyers are manifestly covering cloth, there appears a quiet hoof sticking in league with each other; so that although there out like a pointed moral; and at the other end the is some competition, it is not fair competition ; and tip of a pale snout, with a crimson stain in the posthe screw and pressure of a secret monopoly of the tril, pathetically pokes forth. It is the Roman emmarket is at work. If the peasant does not accept peror who, a brief hour ago, sat with terrific counthe offer of the first bidder, the second bidder may tenance in the middle of the fair. A deed has offer less, and usually does. The peasant looks been done. He has been bought and sold; but after the careless smoking screw who is now so they could not lead him into captivity. The debt busily engaged a little way off, affecting to have of nature is paid-80 is the poor man's rent; and quite done with him. He looks-he begins to death and the landlord can now do what they like walk towards him—the buyer walks away-the with their own. As for the fallen hero, let his faults peasant follows. Again he addresses him on the die with him. There is nothing coarse in him subject of his pig. In the end, the screw has him now-nothing gross is here, in this scene before us at his own price. Now and then, however, the nothing selfish and brutish. All is hashed, phipoor peasant repeats his first demand, and holds to losophical and suggestive-refined by the hand of it with melancholy firmness. He speaks in a sad the universal steel-bearer, the quieter of us all.
| constitution, and—and so that meek and knowing
man was summoned to London. WHEN Snipeton turned his horse's head from In a green, sequestered nook, half-way between Dovesnest-for the which incident we must send Hainpstead and Kilburn, embowered in the middle back the reader some dozen chapters—he resolved, of a garden, was a small cottage ; so hidden, that as he rode, upon closing his accounts with the oft the traveller passed, unheeding it. In this world, that freed from the cares of money, he cottage was Clarissa. To this retreat would her might cherish and protect his youthful, blooming husband amble every day from St. Mary Axe, partner. Arrived in London, seated at his books quitting his money temple for the treasure of his in St. Mary Axe, the resolution was strengthened fireside, his pale and placid wife ; and resolved to hy the contemplation of his balance against men. think himself blessed at both places. He had more than enough, and would enjoy life in “Mr. Snipeton is late to-day," said Mrs. Wilgood earnest. Why should he toil like a slave for ton, the mother housekeeper. gold-dust, and never know the blessings of the “He will come,” replied Clarissa, in the tone hoon? No: he would close his accounts, and of one resigned to a daily care. “He will come, open wide his heart. And Snipeton was sincerc mother." in this his high resolve. For a whole night, Mrs. Wilton looked with appealing tenderness waking and dreaming, he was fixed in it; and the in her daughter's face; and in a low, calm voice, next morning the uxorious apostate fell back to his controlling her heart as she spoke, she said first creed of money-bags. Fortune is a woman, " This must not be : do not repeat that word and therefore where she blindly loves—(and what -not even when we are alone. Some day it may Bottoms and Calibans she does embrace and betray me to your husband, and then” fondle!)-is not to be put aside by slight or ill- “What then?" asked Clarissa. usage. All his life had fortune doted upon Snipe-l, "We should be parted; forever-forever," ton, hugging him the closer as she carried him up cried the woman, and with the thought she burst -no infant ape more tenderly clutched in ticklish into tears. places and he should not leave her. And to this "Not so. Nothing parts us ;, nothing but the end did fortune bribe back her renegade with a kindliness of death," said Clarissa. “And death lumping bargain. A young gentleman-a very is kind, at least"young gentleman-desired for so much ready “At least, my child, the world with you is too metal, to put his land upon parchment, and that young to think it so.” young gentleman did fortune take by the hand, “Old, old and faded," said Clarissa. "The and, smiling ruin, lead him to St. Mary Axe. In spirit of youth is departed. I look at all things few minutes was Snipeton wooed and won again : /with dim and weary eyes.” for to say the truth his weakness was a mortgage. “And yet, my child, there is a sanctity in sufThe written parchment, like charmed characters, fering, when strongly, meekly borne. Our duty, conjured him ; put imagination into that dry husk though set about by thorns, may still be made a of a man. He would look upon the deed as upon staff, supporting even while it tortures. Cast it a land of promise. He would see in the smallest away, and like the prophet's wand, it changes to a pen-marks giant oaks, with the might of navjes snake. God and my own heart know, I speak no waiting in them; and from the sheepskin would idle thoughts, I speak a bitter truth, bitterly feel the nimble air of Arcady. There it lay, a acknowledged.” beautiful bit of God's earth-a sweet morsel of “And duty shall support me on this weary creation-conjured and conveyed into a few black pilgrimage," said Clarissa. Then taking her syllables.
mother's hand, and feebly smiling, she added, And so, Snipeton made his peace with his first “ Surely, it can be no sin to wish such travel wife Fortune, and then bethought him of his short : or if it be, I still must wish–I cannot second spouse, Clarissa. That he might duly help it." attend to both, he would remove his second mate " Time, time, my child, is the sure concilifrom Dovesnest. There were double reasons for ator. You will live to wonder at and bless his the motion ; for the haven of wedded bliss was goodness." known to the profligate St. James ; who, unmind- " You say somit may be," said Clarissa, with a ful of the sweetest obligation money at large lightened look, “at least, I'll hope it." And usance ought to confer upon the human heart, then both smiled gaily-wanly; for both felt the dared to accost his creditor's wife. Let Doves- deceit they strove to act but could not carry nest henceforth be a place for owls and foxes, through. Words, words of comforting, of hope Clarissa should bring happiness within an hour's were uttered, but they fell coldly, hollowly ; for ride of St. Mary Axe. The thought was so good, the spirit of truth was not in them. They were sent such large content to old Snipeton's heart, things of the tongue, passionless, mechanical ; that with no delay it was carried out, and ere the voice without the soul. At this moment, old she well had time to weep a farewell to her Dorothy Vale entered the room ; and she was welfavorite roses, Mrs. Snipeton left Dovesnest to the come : even though she announced the coming of spiders.
the master of the house. Was it a wise change, this? Had Snipeton “Master's coming up the garden," said Dorohealthy eyes; or did avarice, that jaundice of the thy, each hand rubbing an arm crossed before her. soal, so blear his vision, that he saw not in the “Somebody 's with him." thin, discolored features of the wife of his bosom, “A stranger here! Who can it be?” cried aught to twitch a husband's heart? She never Clarissa. complained. Besides, once or twice he had ques- " Don't say he's a stranger ; don't say he is n't; tioned her; and she was not ill. No, well, quite can only see a somebody,'' answered Dorothy, in well; and this too he had asked very happy. whom no show whatever of this world of shows Nevertheless, it would the better satisfy him if could have awakened a momentary curiosity. Her Crossbone could see her. Crossbone knew her inheritance, as one of Eve's daughters, was this
beautiful earth, sky-roofed ; yet was it no more 10 that Crossbone might reconsider his judgment, her than a huge deal box, pierced with air. The air of Hampstead might be thought the best holes. A place to eat, drink, sleep, and hang up of airs for Clarissa Wine does wonders! her bonnet in.
The dinner was served. Crossbone was eloAnother minute, and Snipeton entered the room. quent. “ After your labors in town, Mr. Snipeton, The husband had returned to the haven of his you must find it particularly delightful,''-he said hopes, and was resolved that the world—then com -"particularly so to come home to Mrs. Snipeton," prised in the single person of Peter Crossbone, who-the husband smiled at his wife" and dine off followed close at the heels of his host-should bear your own greens. One's own vegetables is what witness to his exceeding happiness ; to the robust I consider the purest and highest enjoyment of the delight that, as he crossed his threshold, instantly country. Of course, too, you keep pigs?'' possessed him : for with an anxious look of joy, he Snipeton had prepared himself for a compliment strode up to his wife, and suddenly taking her on his connubial happiness; and therefore suffered cheeks between both his hands, pursed out her a wrenching of the spirit when called upon to speak lips, and then vigorously kissed them. He was so to his cabbages. With a strong will he waived happy, he could not, would not feel his wife shrink the subject; and merely answered, “We do not at his touch—could not, would not see her white keep pigs." face flush as with sudden resentment, and then "That's a pity ; but all in good time. For it's subside into pale endurance. No: the husband | hardly possible to imagine a prettier place for pigs. was resolved upon displaying to the world his ex- Nothing like growing one's own bacon. But then ceeding happiness, and would not be thwarted in I always like dumb things about me. And, Mr. his show of bliss, by trifles. He merely said, still Snipeton, after your work in town, you can't think dallying with his felicity - Never mind Cross- how 't would unbend your mind-how you might bone ; he's nobody; a family man-has been rest yourself, as I may say, on a few pigs. It's married, and that's all the same.” Now Cross- beautiful to watch 'em day by day ; to see 'em bone in his wayward heart, felt tempted to dispute growing and unfolding their fat like lilies; to make such position, it was not all the same-to him. 'em your acquaintance as it were, from the time Nevertheless, he would not be captious. It was they come into the world to the time they 're hung a poor, an ignorant opinion, and therefore his up in your kitchen. In this way you seem to eat host and customer should have the free enjoyment l'em a hundred tiines over. However, pigs are
matters that I must not trust myself to talk " Mrs. Snipeton," said the apothecary," though about." I do not feel it professional to hope that anybody " Why not?" asked Snipeton, with a porkeris well, nevertheless in your case, I do hope that like grunt. " Why not ?" -well, well, I see; a little pale, but never “ Dear Mrs. Crossbone! Well, she was a wofear it-we'll bring the roses out again. In man!” (It was, in truth, Crossbone's primest a little while, and you 'll bloom like a bough- consolation to know that she was a woman.)
6 Our taste in everything was just alike. In every" To be sure she will,” said Snipeton. "I thing." thought of buying her a pretty little horse ; just a “Pigs included ?" asked Snipeton, with somequier thing' .
thing like a sneer. • Nothing could be better-perhaps. As I often / But Crossbone was too much stirred by dearest say, horse-flesh is the thing for weak stomachs. I memories to mark it. He merely answered, “ Pigs may say as much to you as a friend, Mr. Snipeton : included," after a pause. “However, I must refolks often go to the doctor's, when they should nouince the sweeter pleasures of the country. Fate go to the stable. Yes, yes-horse exercise and calls me to London." change of air"
" It delights me to hear it, Mr. Crossbone ; for “We'll talk of it after dinner," said Snipeton, we shall then be so near to one another," cried suddenly wincing ; for his heart could not endure Snipeton. “Charming news this, is n't it, Clary?” the thought of separation. Business and love were And the old husband chucked his wife's chin, and delightful when united; they gave a zest to each would smile in her pale, unsmiling face. other; but certainly at least in the case of Snipe-' “ Well, as an old friend, Mr. Snipeton, I may ton-were not to be tasted alone. Granted that he perhaps make no difference with you. Otherwise, sat in a golden shower in St. Mary Axe; how iny practice promises to be confined to royalty. To should he enjoy the luck falling direct from heaven royalty, Mr. Snipeton. Yes; I was sure of it, upon him, if his wife-that flower of his existence though I never condescended to name my hopes -was transplanted to a distant soil? Would not but I knew that I should not be lost all my life among certain bees and butterflies hum and fluter round the weeds of the world. Reputation, Mr. Snipethat human blossom? Again, if he himself tended ton, may be buried, like a potato; but, sir, like a the pretty patient, would not ruin-taking certain potato"--and Crossbone, tickled by the felicity of advantage of the master's absence-post itself at the simile, was rather loud in its ullerance like his door-step? Doating husband-devoted man of a potato, it will shoot and show itself." money! His heart-strings tore him one way-- “ And yours has come up, eh? Well, I'm his purse-strings another. “We'll talk of it afier very glad to hear it," said Snipeton, honestly, dinner," he repeated. “And, Master Crossbone, becanse you 'll be in London. Your knowledge we'll have a bottle of excellent wine." In some of Clarissa's constitution is a great comfort 10 matters Crossbone was the most compliant of meg : me." and wine was one that, offered cost-free, never “I have studied it, Mr. Snipeton ; studied it as found him implacable. And, the truth is, Snipe- a botanist would study some strange and beautiful ton knowing this, hoped that the wine might con- nower. It is a very peculiar constitution-very tain arguments potent over the doctor's opinions. peculiar." The dinner being over, Clarissa rose. After one bottle, nay two, it was not impossible “ You'll not leave us yel, love?" cried Snipe
ton, taking his wife's hand, and trying to look into | laughed very jovially, but his host looked grave, her eyes thal-wayward eyes ! - would not meet sad. the old man's devouring stare.
“It seems, Mr. Crossbone, you are no great "Pray excuse me," said Clarissa, with a po- friend to the women,” said Snipeton. “Yet you liteness keen enough to cut a husband's heart- must allow, we owe them much.” strings. "I have some orders-directions—for “Humph!” cried Crossbone, in a prolonged Mrs. Wilton. You must excuse me.".
note. He then hastily filled his glass : as hastily “That's a treasure, Crossbone !” exclaimed emptied it. Saipeton, with a laborionis burst of affection, as • You seem to dispute the debt?” said Snipe Clarissa left the room. “A diamond of a woman! ton, gallantly returning to the charge. A treasure for an emperor!”
“Look here, Mr. Snipeton," cried Crossbone, "Don't-don't"-cried Crossbone, hurriedly with the air of a man determined for once to clear emptying his glass.
This heart of something that has long lain wriggling "I said a treasure!" repeated the impassioned there" look here. The great charm of a bottle hasband, striking the table. Crossbone shook his of wine after dinner between two friends is this : it head. * What," cried Snipeton, knitting his enables them to talk like philosophers; and so that brow, "you question it? Before me-her hus- the servants don't hear, philosophy with a glass of band?"
good fruity port and yours is capital, one tastes * Pray understand me, dear sir," said Crossbone, blood and libre in it;- philosophy is a very pleastranquilly filling his glass. “Mrs. Snipeton is a ant sort of thing; but like that china shepherdess treasure. She'd have been a jewel-a pearl of a on the mantel-piece, it is much 100 fine and delivomin, sir, in the crown of King Solomon; and cate for the outside world. No, no ; it is only to that's the worst of it."
be properly enjoyed in a parlor; snug and with the "The worst of it!" echoed Snipeton.
door shut." * In this world, my good friend, if a man knew 6 Very well. Perhaps it is. We were talking what he was about, he'd set his heart upon no- of our debts to woman. Go on,” said Snipeton. thing." The apothecary drained his glass. "Our debts to woman. Well, to begin; in the ** Looking, sir, as a moralist and a philosopher, at first place we call her an angel; have called her what the worth of this world at the best is made an angel for thousands of years; and I take it of-wbat is it, but a large soap and water bubble but mind, I speak as a philosopher-I take it, blown by fate? It shines a minute”-here the that's a fiam that should count as a good set-off on moralist and philosopher raised his wine to his eye, our side. Or I ask it, are men, the lords of the contemplating its ruby brightness and where is creation, to go on lying for nothing?" It was it!" Saying this, Crossbone swallowed the wine : plain that this wicked unbelief of Crossbone a little a fine practical comment on his very fine philoso- shocked his host, and therefore, as the bottle was phy. "I ask, where is it?"
nearly out, the apothecary felt that he must regain ** Very true," observed Snipeton, taking truth some of his ground. Whereupon he sought to give 28 coolly as though he was used to it. * Very a jocular guise to his philosophy; to make it, for true; nevertheless"
the nonce, assume the comic mask. “Ha! ha! "Mr. Snipeton, my good friend," cried Cross- Look here : you must allow that woman ought, as bone-his hand lovingly round the neck of the de- much as in her lies, to make this world quite a caoter—" Mr. Soipeton, he is the wisest man who paradise for us, seeing that she lost us the original in this world loves nothing. It's much the safest. garden." Snipeton just smiled. “Come, come,” Did you ever hear of the river Styx ?"
cried the hilarious apothecary, " we talk as phi"Humph! I can't say," growled Snipeton. “Js losophers, and when all's said and done about it salt, or fresh ?"
what we owe to woman, you must allow that "One dip in it makes a man invulnerable to all we've a swinging balance against her. Yes, yes ; things; stones, arrows, bludgeons, swords, bullets, you can't deny this: there's that little matter of canon-balls."
the apple still to be settled for." "'T would save a great deal in regimentals if "'T is a debt of long standing," said Snipeton the soldiers might bathe there," said Snipeton, with a short laugh. grinning grimly.
“And therefore, as you know-nobody better? " So much for Styx upon the outward man,"'-urged Crossbone-" therefore it bears a heavy cried Crossbone: "but I have often thought interest. So heavy, Mr. Snipeton-by-the-bye, 't would be a capital thing, if people could take it the bouile 's out--so heavy they can never pay it. inwardly; if they could drink Styx.”
And so we must n't be hard upon 'em, poor souls * Like the Bath waters," suggested Snipeton. -no, we must n't be hard upon 'em; but get what
*Exactly so. A course or two, and the inte- we can in small but sweet instalments. - for all rior of a man would then be insensible of foolish I talk in this philosophic way I was never hard. veskness," said Crossbone.
upon 'em-dear liule things in all my life.” "You'd never get the women to drink it," re- For a few minutes philosophy took breath, whilst, marked Soipeton, very gravely.
wine, the frequent nutriment of that divine plant, "'T would not be necessary, if man, the nobler as cultivated by Crossbone, was renewed. At animal--for as Mrs. Snipeton is not here, we can length, ihe apothecary observed "To serious talk like philosophers"-Snipeton grunted "if business, Mr. Snipeton. Having had our little. man, the nobler animal, for we know he is, though harmless Jaugh at the sex, let us speak of one who it would not be right, perhaps, to say as much be- is its sweetest flower, and its brightest ornament. fore the petticoats-if man could make his own Need I name Mrs. Snipelon ?" heart invalnerable, why, as for woman, she might The old man sighed; moved uneasily in his be as weak and as fuolish as she pleased ; which, chair; and then with an effort began. “Mr. Crossyou must allow, is granting her much, Mr. Snipe- bone, my friend I cannot tell yon-00 words can. ton." And here the apothecary would have tell you, how I love that woman."
"I can imagine the case-very virulent indeed," these twenty years. And in twenty years that said the apothecary. “Late in life it's always so beautiful face would lose its look of youth-those Love with young men, I mean with very young eyes would burn with sobered light-hat full men, is nothing; a slight fever. Now, at mature scarlet lip be shrunk and faded. And then-yea, time of life, it's little short of deadly typhus. Of then he thought, he could resign her. In twenty course, I speak of love before marriage; that is, years-perhaps in twenty years. With this cold love with all its fears and anxieties ; for wedlock 's comfort, he ventured to reply to the apothecary. a good febrifuge."
“ Never mind my life, that's nothing," he said. "I have struggled, fought with myself, to think “ All I think of is Clarissa ; and there is yet time --but you shall tell me yes, I will strengthen -she is safe, you say?" myself to hear the worst. Vow, man''-and “It's very odd, very droll, that just now you Snipeton grasped the arms of his chair with an should have named Bath-the Bath waters, you iron hold, and his breast heaved as he loudly ut-know," smirked Crossbone. tered_"now, speak it."
" Wherefore odd-how droll! I do not under“Look you here, Mr. Snipeton. Do you think stand you." And yet he had caught the meaning. me a stock, or a stone, that I could sit here quiet “She must go to Bath; she must drink the ly and comfortably drinking your wine, if I couldn't waters. Nothing's left but that," averred the give you hope-a little hope in return ?"
apothecary. "A little hope !" groaned the old man.
" I tell you, man, for these three months I can“A man in my position, Mr. Snipeton-with not quit London. A world of money depends glorious circumstances, as I have observed, open- upon my stay." ing upon him-cannot be too cautious. I should " And why should you budge? You don't be sorry to compromise myself by desiring you to want your wife, do you, at St. Mary Axe! She be too confident. Nevertheless, she is young, Mr. does n't keep your books, eh?" Snipeton frowned, Snipeton ; and the spirit of youth does sometimes and bit his lip, and made no answer. Then puzzle us. In such spirit then-strong as it is in Crossbone, his dignity strengthened by his host's her-I have the greatest faith."
wine, rose. “Mr. Snipeton," he said, “I have “You have !" exclaimed Snipeton, starting studied this case, studied it, sir, not only as a docfrom his seat and seizing Crossbone's hand. tor but as a friend. I have now, sir, done my " Save her and—and you shall be rich; that is, duty; I leave you as a husband and I was about you shall be well recompensed-very well. My to say as a father, but that would be premature ; good friend, you know not the misery it costs me as a husband and a man to do yours. All I say is to seem happy in her sight. I laugh and jest"- this: if your wife does not immediately move to Crossbone looked doubtingly-" to cheat her of Bath," -Crossbone paused. her melancholy ; yet"
“Well," snarled Snipeton, defyingly, " and if " Yet she does not laugh and joke in return ?" she does not?" observed Crossbone. “But she will no doubt “In two months, sir-I give her two monthsshe will."
she 'll go to the churchyard." " And then, though I know her to be sick and “ And so she may--so she shall," exclaimed suffering, she never complains ; but still assures Snipeton, violently striking the table-his face me she is well-very well."
blackening with rage, his eyes lurid with passion. " Dear soul! You ought to be a happy man- "So she shall. An honest grave and my name you ought but you won't. Can't you see that she clear-I say, an honest grave, and a fair tombwon't confess to sickness because-kind creature! stone, with a fair reputation for the dead. Any.
- she can't think of paining you ! She'd smile thing but that accursed Bath. Why, sir,"-and and say 't was nothing-I know she would, if she Snipeton, dilating with emotion, stalked towards were dying.'
the apothecary, what do you think me?" “For God's sake, speak not such a word,” cried! Now this question, in a somewhat dangerous the old man, turning pale.
manner tested' Crossbone's sincerity. In sooth, it "She must die some day," said Crossbone. is at best a perilous interrogative, trying to the “ Though, to be sure, according to the course of ingenuousness of a friend. Crossbone paused ; nature, that is, if I save her-of which, indeed, to not that he had not an answer at the very tip of tell you truly, I have now no doubt-I will stake his tongue : an answer bubbling hot from that my reputation present and to come upon the mat- well of truth, his heart-and for that reason, it ter"
was not the answer to be rendered. He therefore "You give me life, youth," exclaimed Snipe- looked duly astonished, and only asked_* Mr. ton, with sudden happiness.
Snipeton, what do you mean?" * But I was about to say that, if saved, the "I tell you, man, I'd rather see her dead, a fair chances are you may leave her yet young and and honest corpse, than send her to that pestblooming, behind you." The old man's face dark-place," cried the husband. ened. It was a bitter thought that. Was there “ Pest-place! Really, Mr. Snipeton; this is a inot some place in the East, where, when a hus- little too much to wipe off the reputation of a city 'band died, his wife even through the torture of the reputation of hundreds of years too—in this fire, followed him! This horrid thought-how, manner.' Reputation, sir, that is, if it's good for poor man ! could he help it! for, reader, how know anything-does n't come up like a toad-stool; no, you what thought you shall next think!--this sir, the real thing's of slow growth. Bath a pestthought, we say, passed through Snipeton's brain. I place! Why, the very fountain of health." But Clarissa was no Hindoo wife. She migh- "The pool of vice-the very slough of what as the prating doctor said-she might be left, yes, you call fashion. And you think I'd send my to smile and be happy, and more, to award happi- wife there for health! And for what health ness to another on this earth, when her doating, Why, I'll say she returned with glowing face passionately doating husband should have his limbs and sparkling eyes. What then? I should loathe composed in the grave. Again; he might live her."