« VorigeDoorgaan »
sobbing as if her heart would break, "I knew that would be the end of it."
But John had not been in merry England merely to get his twelve guineas packed in two cakes. “No,” said he firmly, "right is right, and I'll see the end of it." So he sat himself down on the step of the door, determined not to go until he saw the young squire; and as it happened it was not long before he came out. "I have been expecting you some time, John," said he; 66 come in and bring your wife in," and he made them go before him into the house. Immediately, he directed all the servants to come up stairs; and such an army of them as there was ! It was a real sight to see them.
"Which of you," said the young squire without making further words "which of you all did this honest woman give my purse to?" But there was no answer. "Well, I suppose she must be mistaken unless she can tell herself."
John's wife at once pointed her finger towards the head footman; "there he is," said she, if all the world were to the fore-clargyman, magistrate, judge, jury and all-there he is, and I'm ready to take my bibleoath to him; there he is who told me it was all right when he took the purse, and slammed the door in my face, without as much as thank ye for it."
The conscious footman turned pale.
"What is this I hear? said the master. "If this woman gave you my purse, William, why did you not give it to me?"
The servant stammered out a denial; but his master insisted on his being searched, and the purse was found in his pocket.
"John," said the gentleman, turning round, "you shall be no loser by this affair. Here are ten guineas for you; go home now, but I will not forget your wife's honesty."
Within a month John Carson was settled in a nice new-slated house which the squire had furnished and
made ready for him. What with his wages, the reward he got from the judge, and the ten guineas for returning the purse, he was well to do in the world, and was soon able to stock a small farm, where he lived respected all his days. On his death-bed he gave his children the very Three Advices which his master had given him on parting:
"Never to take a bye-road when you could follow the highway.
"Never to lodge in the house where an old man was married to a young woman.
66 And, above all, to remember that honesty is the best policy."
THE PLEASURES OF HOPE.
CEASE, every joy, to glimmer on my mind,
Her musing mood shall every pang appease,
No! not the quaint remark, the sapient rule,
Have power to soothe, unaided and alone,
What plaintive sobs thy filial spirit drew,
"And weep not thus," he cried, "young Ellenore,
Shall beam on joy's interminable years,
"Yet, on the barren shore and stormy deep,
"Farewell! when strangers lift thy father's bier,
Inspiring thought of rapture yet to be,
By artless friendship bless'd when life was new?
Eternal Hope! when yonder spheres sublime Peal'd their first notes to sound the march of Time,
Thy joyous youth began-but not to fade.-
"MAN wants but little here below,"
"Twas thus the poet rightly sung of yore That littled gained, experience serves to show, Man always wants—a little more.
Who likes vexation? a queer question, isn't it?
And many, many may be found,
Of either sex,
(I take the liberty to hint it,)
Who, tho' they've nothing to perplex,
Or tease 'em,
So perverse are,
They'll growl and grumble night and day,
To please 'em,
Makes 'em worser!
Sir Easy Lovewell chanc'd to fall in love,—
(His heart by nature form'd to catch like tinder,)— With a fair maiden, hight Miss Dolly Dove,
And stole her from a Boarding-school back window. Stole her heyday!
Well, Madam, where's the wonder?
He meant the lady
To be his Rib-and so he bon'd her!