The Spinners

adows where rivers meet and Brit and Asker wind to the sea. Evidences of the great local industry are not immediately apparent; but streamers and w

p, Bridport meets every need. Her twines and cords and nets are famous the world over;

ce of the hand-spinners, though their industry has left its sign-manual upon the township. For the great, open side-walks make for distinction and spaciousness, and there shall be found in all Dorset, no brighter, cheerfuller place than this. Bridport's very workhouse, south-faci

the other; and at the moment when Henry Ironsyde's dust was reaching the bottom of his grave at Bridetown, a young man of somewha

broad-shouldered publican with a large and clean-shave

id the visitor.

shook h

to. They're burying hi

t a glass of cherry br

er rolled

oing," said

o his father

son, too; he's cut o

t's bad news, though perhaps not

because they don't happen to like our way of life. What would become of England if every man was made in the pattern of his father? D

is generation, however," argued the innkeeper, "n

"'Tis for them to study us-not us them. You must have progress. The thi

ngs. The point for parents is not to forget what it feels like to be young. That I never have, and you young gentlemen would very soon remind me if I did. But the late Mr. Henry Ironsyde found no time for all-round wisdom. He poured his brains into hemp and jute and such like. Why, he didn't even make a minute to court and wed till he was forty-five year old. And the result of that was that when

" said Mr. Motyer, "and I hope

writing of the dead," answered Mr. Gurd. Th

ob. What's

nd rodent features. His hair was black, and his thin mouth and chin clean-shaven. His eyes were small and ver

tle till to-morrow? A party have been sprung on us, and five-and

. Go round to the

ed and Mr. Gu

n. Her husband's right hand while he lived, and now hers. I have the use of their stable-yard market days, for their cust

dy with the

pursed

we were young. 'Tis just the natural, thoughtless insolence of youth to say Nelly Northover's an old woman-her being perhaps eight-and-forty. And to call her hair a wig, because she

e another br

and Mr. Gurd for once felt genu

mbled his brother, Daniel, but stood three inches taller, and his brow was fuller and loftier. His expression in repose appeared frank and receptive; but to-day his face wore a look half anxious, half ferocious. He was cl

soda, Gurd. M

. Then he flung himself down on a cushioned seat in the bow window

d pretended to no astonishment that the young man should be here on this day. But

her's funeral? No doubt, you'll say, with ev

and say nothing, Mister Raymon

, Ray, if I'd been trea

ty

ly outraged like this in my father's will, was impossible to anybody but a cur.

come up to the scratc

ty

stion, no doubt. He can't see

that work's only dreaded by them who have never done any. You'll soon fi

nd said nothing. He was looking in front of h

e another encour

got plenty of cash, I've heard people say, and she g

own busin

other promptly. "Only

ot to work, I'm quite equal to it. I've got more brai

more mind than hi

e, I could do more goo

el w

Mr. Gurd. "Always remem

ts, the more power for

o the works, I expect.

is a very sporting place and you'd b

that, Mister Raymond," warned Richard Gurd. "If you go, you p

e Gurd attended to other customers. Then Raymond Ironsyde accepted an

-day," said Raymond as he departed. "I

. Gurd; but he shook his head

A few stood up for him and held that he had been too severely dealt with; but the m

lot in sporting and been worse off after than before; but now he's up against work, and work may be the savi

obligation to work for ev