Forgotten Tales of Long Ago

nd Sl

and fastened the outer doors. Beechnut had gone to bed, and so had Phonny. Hepzibah went into P

s burning on the stand at the foot of the bed where Phonny had left it. Hepzibah advance

gone to sleep. What a pity that I have got to w

she should fall asleep, and not wake up again until morning, for she always slept very soundly. She determined, therefore, that she would sit up until half-past ten, and then, after giving Malleville the medicine, go to bed.

. Hepzibah brought the sofa up to the fire, placing one end of it near to the stand, in order that she might have the benefit of the lamp in case of dropping a stitch. She prepared the medicine for Malleville by mixing it properly with water in

. Twice her knitting-work dropped out of her hands. The dropping of the knitting-work waked her the first and second time that it occurred. But the third time it did not wake her. After fal

resolve not to take it, if any one else waked her up for it, but she determined not to wake up for it of her own accord. Whether this had any influence in prolonging her sleep it would be difficult to say.

her dimly, and the fire had nearly gone out. She sat up in the bed, and afte

water.' Then, after waiting for a moment, she added,

d put on her shoes and stockings, singing ge

gnes's song that

fa and what for, and on passing round before it, her wonder

just above a whisper, 'here is Hepzibah. I suppose

r two in silence, and then said, speakin

le. I mean to put her

as she could, and put them upon the sofa. Hepzibah's sound sleep was not at all disturbed by this. In fact, her po

were not very well covered as she lay upon the sofa, she thought it would be a good plan to go and find something to cover them up. So she went to a bureau which was standing in the room,

she. 'I knew it was som

rything in as noiseless a manner as possible. She spread the blanket over He

'I will make up the fire a little

t a few brands in the corners. Malleville took up the two sticks, one after another, and laid them upon the andirons, one for a back-stick and the other for a fore-stick, as she had often seen Phonny do. She then brought up a little cricket in front of the andirons, and sitting down upon it there, she

the sticks of wood, and thus fanning them, it brightened them into a glow. The brand

tisfaction, 'it is burning. Phonny said that I

s beginning to burn, she thought that she must move still further away. She accordingly rose, and moved the cricket back

her,' said she, 'or the

his purpose. Then, putting a chair between the sofa and the fire, she spread the shawl upon the back of it, and f

f she could tell what o'clock it was. She could not, of course, for she had never learned to tell the time by the clock

ut it looks pretty late. I have a gr

g. The cup was there in which Hepzibah had prepared Malleville's medicine.

have a great mind to take it. But, then perhap

le again, glad, in fact, of a plausi

' he said, 'and wait till Hepzibah wa

atching the little flames and the curling smoke that were ascending from the fire. She

ke up. But I suppose she is very tired. I mean to go and look out of the window, and see if the mornin

e window. She accordingly went to the window, and pushing the curtains aside and opening the shutters,

pens upon it. The idea occurred to Malleville that perhaps she might

r,' said she, 'I would w

fire to the curtain, she took the pen and began her writing. She worked patiently upon the task for half an hour. The letter was then completed. Of course, it

day, m

r Ag

nut says you like me. Ple

fectiona

ying to herself that Agnes would know who it was from, and, besides, if she did not, Beechnut could tell her when he gave it to her. She folded the note and slipped it into the envelope, and then, hastily wetting a wafer, which she found i

pin, and the lamp bur

r lamp,' said Malleville, 'or else He

t as she said this, and then added, 'Poor Hepz

a little as she descended, though she stepped as carefully as she could. Wh

ashes. The andirons were standing one across the other upon the hearth, idle and useless. Malleville looked about the roo

o the closets,'

mps standing in a row upon the second shelf. She was very much pleased to see them. She took one of them down and carried it to the kitchen table, and then lighted it by means of a lamp-lighter, which she obtain

ead with some butter by the side of it. There was a little pitcher near, t

for now I can have some supper. I wanted something,

he kitchen table, and then drawing up a chair, she beg

irs ascended from very near the door where Malleville had entered the kitchen, and as Malleville had left the door open, the light from her lamp shone out into the entry, and she could also, while in the k

id a voice. Malleville immediately re

id Mall

ut. 'Who do you mean

eplied M

, in a tone of profound astonishment,

ome supper,' s

ought not to be down there eating supper at

lied Malleville, 'to g

Beechnut. 'Did she send y

Malleville, '

pzibah?' ask

le, 'and you must not speak so

g great efforts to suppress the sound of his laughter. Presently he regained his comp

levi

said Mal

inished your suppe

e. 'I have only got a li

r milk, you had better go directly back to your

do with Hepzibah

sked Beechnut. 'Is she

eplied M

fa?' asked

eplied M

nd go to sleep. If you do not get to sleep in half an hour, ring

her new lamp, she went upstairs again to her r

eyes to try to go to sleep, thinking of Beechnut's injunction to ring the bell if she did not get to sleep in half an hour, and wondering ho

was increased at finding her feet enveloped in a blanket, and a screen placed carefully between her face and the remains of the fire. She went hastily to Malleville's bedside, and finding that the little patient was there safe

was better for convalescents than physic after all, and that, though patients often made very sad mistakes in taking their case

Adventures

pte

, and their little darling, and whom I called father and mother. These pleasing visions seemed suddenly to pass away. I no longer saw my father, nor the ladies and gentlemen; we were no longer living in a large house; our servants were gone, and mother was almost always in tears. Then, all of a sudden, we were riding alone in a post-chaise; night came on, and we stopped at a house. There mother was very ill, and laid in bed, and did not speak to me for several days, and a great many pe

d so painful that, at this distance of ti

correctly remember. I then found myself living in a large cottage with nearly twenty other children. We were under the care of an elderly woman, whom we called nurse. This house, I was told, when I was old enough to understand the meaning of the expression, was the place where the infant paupers, or poor children of the parish, were kept. Of our treatment there I have no cause to complain. We were well washed every morning, and our clothes were kept clean and tidy; our food was coarse and

ed Lady Anne, and in all our little plays my companions would choose me to be a lady or their queen. Then I would, in a language which seemed natural to me, order the carriage for an airing, or propose a saunter in the park, or perhaps say we would go to the opera in the evening

nd ladies you are so often talking about. It was an unlucky chance that br

ought me here?' said

lf, you will not be tired of hearing it; so come, children, get your knitt

d anxious of the whole group, for I often, in my own mind, wondered how it was that I no longer saw the gentlemen and ladies who it seemed to myself I had been in the habit of seeing, and where my father could

u, Lady Anne. Well, the chaise stopped, and your mother got out, and desired to be shown to a bedroom, and ordered tea, and tired and ill the landlady said she looked, but she did not know how very ill she really was. Well, after tea she put you to bed,

s, our clergyman, to advise with him what was to be done. Then he went to the inn, and looked at your mother, and examined a little trunk, which was all the luggage she had. It contained just a change of linen for herself and

ing about a surname, and I must say I think it is a very foolish thing not to teach children their names and proper directions, for if you could have told yours, your friends would have been wrote to, and you would now have been wit

e he said that the lady would die, but that he would do all in his power to save her, and so, I believe, he did, but it was all in vain, for on the third evening your mother died. The parish buried her very decently, for Mr. Sanders said that, as she had left money, she should not be buried like a pauper, and he would have taken you home and brought you up, but Madam Sanders said they had a large family of their own, and could not be b

at the inn

ands, and many people said they thought that you and your mother were only sham ladies, and that there was some trick in it, but, for my part, I always said that you and your mother were real ladies, and so thinks Mr. Sanders, for he says he does not know what trick there could be in a lady being taken ill and dying. He says he hopes to see the day when you will be restored to your friends, and he keeps the little trunk that your mother had, and the picture of a gentleman that she wore hung

pte

er lips, and address it by the name of her dear Frederick. I earnestly entreated the nurse to take me to the clergyman's, that I might once more have the pleasure of seeing it. She told me to have patience till Sunday, and that whe

ollowed the nurse, and immediately fixing his eyes upon me, '

t here observe that I did not know that lady was a titl

not to lose your title. Well, my little lady, come h

ur of entering the study. Mr. Sanders then, opening the drawer of a cabinet, took out the miniature portrait of a young and handsome gentleman dressed in regimentals. I no

father. Oh, if I could but see him! Where is

w where your father is, or we would write to him. If you could tell us his name, w

rd; and mother my lady, and the

e clergyman with a sigh; 'but who, my dear, was the earl? C

fell on the floor and I screamed, and then the Earl was more angry and stamped, and I screamed with all my might

ur father, th

was gone, and I have

y could not tell either my own name, or that of any of the great people who had visited us, his enquiries were fruitless

re she was treated very harshly by Mrs. Dawson,

, came to the school to make their inquiries. I was accordingly ordered to stand up, that they might satisfy their curiosity

the woman from London; 'she looks more like

k; but I assure you she is as strong as a little horse. She will wash and scour with any girl of her age

e took my work into her hand, 'that is a

nd it very diverting, and laughed heartily, while the tears stood in my eyes as I t

nth; the good woman speaks of her very well; we can but see what she can do, and, if we find her strong enough for ou

ied the wife. 'She sews very well, and

rseers, and settle with them about taking her upon trial, for I

od-natured overseer came to tell Mrs. Dawson to have me in readiness to go

ve you my word for it, that if you are sent back to us we shall send you to the Bridewell, where yo

my master and mistress; and then I very humbly entreated his permission to allow

made me promise that we would not send her away without first letting her call upon him. Good-bye, child, there is a p

viour. He then went away, and Mrs. Dawson told me to sit down

pte

Dawson, and the hope of being more comfortable, that everything appeared cheerful and pleasant. I made what haste I could to get my morning work done, and, having breakfasted, set off about nine o'clock on my little journ

ind gentleman when he saw me; 'you seem in

to London to-morrow, and then, I

ur expectations too high, for fear you should be disappointed. Wha

ssed the preceding day between

nd will be kind to you; and, my dear child, pray remember my advice, be honest and obliging; do not let any temptation lead you to take what i

e, let me once more look at my father's picture, for, you know,

pressed it to my lips, and wept over it; and, at last, when Mr. Sanders desir

aken from you. The picture is valuable on account of the gold and pearls about

plied I, 'that nobody shall ever

ou hide it

will fasten it inside my stays, so that it cannot be seen, and peopl

would be safe to grant my request or not; 'I will entrust it to your care, but be sure nev

ible care of this beloved portrait, and was

, here is sixp

. 'I have the sixpence you g

you not spen

, s

hy not

t to me, sir, I sha

suppose. Well, do so, my dear, but tak

st into tears. Mr. Sanders seemed much affected, and putting his handkerchief to his eyes, walked

arge family, and Mrs. Sanders is not willing that I should take you in addition, so farewe

n who had fathers and mothers, and weeping at my own destitute situation; for, even among the children who were in the workhouse, there was not one excepting myself who had not relations who came occasionally to see them, and to whom they looked up for some sort of protection, while I was a poor little outcast in society, not knowing one creature in the whole world to whom I could say I was related

t, which I greatly needed, she began asking me a variety of questions, and by degrees I gave her the history of all that had happened to me from the tim

ut she does make the girls good servants, that nobody can deny, and that, I suppose, is the reason she keeps her place; however, your ti

their name is Smith, and they liv

w what thei

I am to learn to make the umbrellas,

them, and that they will be kind to you, and you must

sked her if she would fasten it into my stays in suc

how I do it, that, when you have a new pair of stays, yo

en I had them off, raise it up, and take a view of the dear likeness. The first sixpence that Mr. Sanders gave me I had fastened in also, for I was determined never

rself, you do not know what you may want when you are in London. You w

ers told me to spend it, and if you will n

t in tea and sugar, and give you all a treat, for I suppose you

p. How glad I am that you have

nds. Children in workhouses have bread and cheese and small-beer about seven o'clock, which serves them for tea and supper, and I, as I had no friends to go and see, had not once tasted tea since

was set on the fire, the great brown loaf was brought out,

st was quite ready we took our places, some at the table, and some on the benches, as we could find room. Nurse gave each of us a little basin of tea and a good slice of bread-and-butter, an

er it was dark. I felt a pang at the idea of so soon parting with my good nurse, but without replying I immediately put on my

pte

and glittered most beautifully. I gazed with much pleasure on the scenery as we passed along, and should have been cheerful, but I was with strangers, who took very

e lying in heaps about the floor, while in one corner stood a large pan of dirty water in which they soaked the leather, and which, not being often changed, sent forth a most unpleasant smell; the floor did not appear as if it was swept once in a month. We entered the parlour, which was in the same state of dirt and confusion as the shop. Three dirty children, whose ages I was afterwards told were t

ing his absence, was dressed much in the same style as the children, her stockings being dirty and with holes in them, her gown unripped in several places at the seams, and on her head a dirty cap, with a fine

They then began talking among themselves, and me and my little history was the subject of their conversation. They were all much amused at my

she, 'you may call her what you p

really is an earl's daughter, her father may come into our shop some day to look at an umbrella or a pair of shoes, and when he hears us call her Lady Anne he will, of course, inquire the reason; then we shall tell him her h

ed his wife; 'she is our servant, and will s

e bound to keep her; but if she is not, whenever we find her father we can send him i

he sake of this fine dream you mean

l thank me for it too, when his ear

, 'what is to be done with her ladysh

he will eat, so she must work or starve, and now give me a glass of gin and w

eating to herself: 'And so for this fine castl

d the like idle expressions. Their father laughed, and said they had learned their lesson already, but their mother, who was vexed at losing the apprentice fees, after some little time told them to be quiet, or she would send them to bed.

of bread-and-butter, and I was in hopes she would have given me one too, b

p. You must be up betimes in the morning, and let us see what you can do for your l

oom, and it had neither curtains or posts: it had not been made that day at the least. Mrs. Smith merely laid it smooth, while the children took off their clothe

ntrive a bed f

re were, indeed, several heaps of dirty old clothes, but they did not appear to me fit for anything

read them upon the floor, and I will give you an old bla

thes of the family for the last ten years had been collected into this room; and out of this mass of litter I was to make my bed. This was, indeed, heart-breaking

angrily. 'Pick out a few things and make your bed

t dirty, and spread them upon the floor. Mrs. Smith then went downstairs, and in

moonlight, and you must make yo

ooner alone than, seating myself u

was worse off at the workhouse; and now I have left the workhouse I am worse off here; and my

the blanket round me, and, laying myself upon the old cloth

eedle; but I did as well as I was able, and worked till I was called to my dinner, which was not till the rest of the family had dined; then all the bits of fat and scraps that they did not like were scraped together into a plate for me, which, with a very small piece of meat in addition, and a few potatoes, was my dinner. Complaint was useless. I had no choice but to eat it or to go without. I then returned to my work till the family had taken their tea, when a small ba

you want?' sa

am, may I have my s

r. Three meals a day are enough for you, I should think; and as for bed, you will not go till your master

as tall enough to put up the shutters. I still kept to my sewing, though two or three times I fell asleep over it, from which I was as roughly awakened as at the first. At length, to my great relief, twelve o'clock struck, the two visitors departed, and soon after Mr. Smith knocked at the door. As soon as he came in his wife began scolding him for spending his time and money at a public-house, and said that he would bring them all to the workhouse. He retorted by saying that she lost

whole week that was devoted to domestic business. The whole house was to be cleaned. The dishes, plates, and saucepans, which had been used over and over again without washing during the week, were now all to be washed. The knives were to be cleaned, the boots and shoes to be brushed and blacked, and

d the sister talking together very earnestly, and as if they were fearful of getting into trouble on my account. They w

ur work. We cannot afford to keep her for nothing; and yet, if she dies, people wil

t will bring her to; and, to tell you my opinion of the matter, I think you half starve her,

r, and poured a little of it into my mouth. It acted like a cordial upon me, for I was soon able to o

you, child?' said she.

eak, I burst

ere, empty the cup, and I will give you some b

ggered, partly from weakness and partly from the effects of the liquor I h

ictuals; and at eight o'clock in the evening she gave me a good slice of bread and cheese and a teacupful of porter, which strengthened me so much that I did all my work, and at ten o'clock was allowed to go to bed-my miserable bed, which at first

pte

eased that it did so, for I was in hopes that I should soon die, and be released from all my troubles. Thus passed away the summer and autumn. Winter approached. It was now the latter end of November, and the weather had set in extremely cold. A heavy fall of snow, with a sharp frost, was succeeded by a slight thaw, which made the streets worse to walk in than either a severe frost or completely wet, when one morning Mrs. Smith told me to take an apple-pie to the baker's. I took the pie and went as carefully as I could, that I might not fall, or get my feet wet, for my shoes were now so worn out that they did not keep my feet from the ground; b

atch-woman, 'give me back the

t do you? I am sure your mistress would not use it, and when

id I. 'Oh dear! what shall

er on to the pavement, 'you will be killed. If I was in your place, I would ru

ng their name mentioned, looked at me and said: 'Is this Smith's girl? Why, th

' said a man, 'for the girl has no

'It is impossible for you to be worse off than you are with

led out the boys, who by this time had pretty well picked up all the appl

Smith with a great whalebone; no

sore, and cut in several places by the ice; but I still hurried on as well as I was able, till I entered St. Paul's Churchyard. There, notwithstanding my fear, I stood still to gaze on the immense and beautiful building, which I now for the first time beheld, and for some minutes I was lost in a dream of astonishment. My dream was soon interrupted by the crowds of people who were hurrying on in different directions, and who pushed me about without any ceremony, so that I was soon obliged to collect my scattered ideas and consider what I was now to do. I had left Mr. Smith's, but I had no where else to go to, not a friend to receive me, nor a house to shelter me for a single night. As I thought of my miserable situation, the tears chased each other down my face. Of the great numbers who passed me, no doubt some observed them; but they were all too much engaged with their own concerns to make any inquiries into the sorrows of a poor little outcast like myself, and I passed on unh

er London Bri

he appearance of the evergreens that were exposed for sale, and the shops looked so pretty, being set out with holly and laurel, that I crossed into the market, and walked slowly along, examining the countenances of the

are near forty miles off.

him how ill Mr. Smith used me, and perhaps he would get

child,' said the woman. 'I know nothing of

impossible but everybody must know Mr. Sanders. I,

e you? A parish 'prentice, I

r,' said a man who had drawn

woman, 'what made you run away? F

he man and several others, who had c

bad judge. The boys had the apples, the gutter had the sugar, you had the mud

ughed at this, an

Smith's again. I will see if I cannot get you another place,

to belong to the ragged regiment, to be sure. But how comes it, ch

mother. The good-natured fruiteress absolutely wept; several women, who had come round us, shed tea

ithout something more substantial, so there's twopence for you, child, towards a pai

fruiteress assuring them that I should have shoes and stockings, and that she had no doubt but that she could get me a place at a gardener's in the country where I might be com

est thing for you, for you cannot be

ad of having the means of washing myself well. She then looked a

However, its done, and you shall soak your feet well with warm water; and when my

months. The good woman threw away my old stockings and shoes, and, doubling a piece of

n in a sound sleep. From this I was awakened in a little more than half an hour by a murmuring of voice

om her, for she

ress, 'it is only my little girls with the dinner. C

the table with people who had everything clean and whole upon them. I therefore sto

ly, my dear, let the little girl have yours, and

ars old, took off her clean coloured apron, which she g

hoes! Shall I take off min

d stockings that you can give her; but now let us sit down, and be thankful that we have a goo

as, and why I was there. The mother merely answered them as to how I had come; but, when the dinner was over, she asked me many questions, such as my name, and what I could remember of my parents, etc., and I told them all I could remember, from

n your dear father died, I thought we must have all gone to the workhouse; but yet I kept striving and striving, and Providence has sent us a living. But now you had be

ncer, too, for I have left of

very cold, as you may see, without a bit of

soon returned with a bundle of clothes, which, though old, were by no means ragged, and, what was to me a great recommendation, they were all clean. From these things Mrs. Williams gave me a tolerably good pair of stockings and shoes, a very tidy straw bonnet with black ribbons

the country, and I cannot think of taking money from a poor friendless ch

ll bundle, and told me that she should give them to me, and perhaps

and has children of his own, so he may feel for you. I mean to ask him if he will try to get you employed at his master's, who has very extensive grounds indeed, and raises vegetables, fruits, and flowers for the

o garden, but, if they would show m

should find you out in such a dirty place as Smith's was, but it is probable that he may find you out at Freeman's nursery grounds, for, in the fine weather, he has crowds of quality go to look at his flowers and eat his fruit; and then, in the flower season, he has exhibitions of prize-tulips and prize carnatio

the tears came into my eyes as I expressed my wish that my

t she called a good day, and said it would pay her for what she was doing for me. About five o'clock we had tea; and, about nine all the fruit and shrubs were taken inside the shop, which was then shut up, and I acco

and comfortable. We will first have our supper, and then w

as bread and broth made from the mutton that was boiled for dinner, Mrs. Williams spread a small mattress upon the ground, which, with two blankets and a pillow, made me a very good bed. She then, from her daughters' clothes, picked me out two pretty good chemises, a flannel petticoa

ey may be useful to

, and I passed some ho

pte

of vegetables for sale. Mrs. Williams and her eldest daughter went among these people to make their purchases, while the younger one, Jane, and myself went to the shop, which

e breakfast is ready, so sit down and take a cup of tea with us, and

Mrs. Williams told him all my little story, and concluded by urging the re

n with me in the cart, and I'll go with her to Mr. Freeman and say what I can for her; and if he engages her, why, I'll let her be at my house as one of my children-that is, if my dame agrees to it, and belike

e her, bring her back, and I must try to do something else for her; but say all you can in h

at be we to call her, as she has no right kind of name?

you will call her by her title and make your children do the same. If it should be

called by it, so there's an end to that. And now I must away to settle my money matters,

t was one of his best customers that asked the favour. I was much pleased too, for, as I could not stay with Mrs. Williams, I did not venture to form a higher wish tha

te thaw had succeeded to the frost; the fields and hedges looked green, and the air was as soft and mild as if it had been spring. I was seated on a truss of hay in the corner of the cart, and as we rode slowly along my spirits seemed to revive, and I once more indulged the pleasing hope of finding my father; then, again, as we advanced, my hope was damped by fear lest Mr. Freeman

she; 'and, pray, who is this

), and briefly related my story to her, particularly dwelling on Mrs. W

good nature, and thee would not have brought another person's child to burden

but I don't see why he should not engage

s conversation. She now gave me another scr

against that-but she's as white as a curd, and does not look

t umbrella-maker in the borough used her. I should like to have the dressing of

e door; here's a seat for you by the fire. Dinner will soon be ready, and you shall not starve while

ounds, came in to dinner. The table was quickly spread, and we sat down to an ample repast of

ill say to us. Why, wife, I'll be flogged if the girl does no

it, of course she looks better. But do you see it is past one o'clock? You had better make ha

heir work in the garden, and Mr. Davis led me up to the house. After having given an account to Mr. Freeman of

d customer, and so, I suppose, we must give the child a trial. Take her to Master Joseph, and he will set her about something, and we

hall take lot and scot among my own c

eman, 'we will do what is

who was the head-gardener. We found him working

have you there-a l

the other. 'She is a little girl that I h

d call me Lady Lily.' After a little more talk it was agreed that I should go the following morning, as they both said it was too late for me to begin work that day. Mr. Davis then conducted me back to his cottage, and having told his wife that I was

h for them. There, my girl, if you can mend me those stockings you'll do me a service. They have holes large enough for you to put your hand through. I have sometimes thought that if the girls would not mend their stockings themselves

ur, and she asked me a great many questions, and said she was glad that Mr. Freeman had engaged me, and that, if I behaved myself properly, I should be very welcome to stay with them till I was old enough to take care of myself. These kind expressions, so different to any I had heard for a long time, cheered my heart. I thanked her most sincerely, and promised to do all I could to please her. I then helped her to prepare the tea. Soon after this Mr.

ie in the gutter. I warrant they would wear out more pairs of shoes than they would sell in a week in running after the old woman and the boys; but I can tell you, girl, it w

he children cannot be put out of their beds. There is no way that I can see but for her to have a blanket and sleep am

husband. 'I do not like the thought of turning her out of the

ee no hardship in her sleeping upon clean swee

quarrel on my account, which would have been to my injury; and, at all events, the hay-loft was a better place to sleep in than the wretched attic at Mr. Smith's. This point b

ly about nine, a chubby, good-natured-looking little fellow, and, I thought, very like his father. After the tea-things were put away, the girls brought each a little box to the table, in which was a quantity of odd pieces of muslin, ribbon, silk, etc., and they passed the even

making these kind of toys, and he sells them to young gentlemen and ladies in the neighbourhood, and I assure you they

s in making it; and last week I earned tw

t I did not like to ask the question, as that would have been rude. However, h

we lay out in clothes for him, and the rest we are saving till he is ten years old, and then he is to go to school, and his own money will pay for it. We t

ve. We go to the grounds as soon as it is light of a morning and work there till it is dark

not spend all these long evenings in making up a p

r, took her attention from his sister, and thus peace was restored. Mrs. Davis and I spent the evening, till nine o'c

ock, which was bedtime. Mrs. Davis then gave me a piece of rush-light in a lanthorn, and I was shown to the h

knees returned thanks to the Almighty for having delivered me from such a state of misery as I had b

pte

t seven o'clock by Mr. Davis, who ca

time to get up. Breakfast is almost ready, and

quickly remembering everything, I answered Mr. Davis, and, dressing myself as expeditiously as possible I went down. Going into an outhouse, where there was plenty of water,

she did yesterday morning, when I first saw her at Mrs. Williams'

slept better than I did all t

' said Mrs. Davis. 'But, come, child, take your

the garden, where, having conducted me to Mr. Joseph, t

under his own care, I was very glad, for he seemed a very good-natured man. After a little conversation, in which he asked me if I could read, if I knew anything about gardening, and a few more of the like questions, he set me to pick the weeds and stones out of a bed of pinks, and, having shown me how to do it, he left me to myself. I worked diligently at my new employment

age present to the miserable shop and parlour at Smith's! There everything was spoiled by dirt and confusion: here all was clean. The brick floor was nicely swept and sanded, a cheerful fire blazed in the grate, and the tea, with plenty of coarse bread and salt butter, was ready upon the table

, and what with the sewing I did for her of an evening, they should be very well paid for me. I was much pleased that my new friends were so well satisfied with me, and I looked upon myself as being now settled in a comfortable home. I was also upon very good terms with the children. The girls were pleased that I mended their clothes for them, which prevented their being so much blamed by their mother

d, he taught me the Latin as well as the English names of the different plants and flowers, so that I could bring him any that he wanted from either the gree

my personal appearance. I grew plump, and by the time the month of March came, I h

s up. Then I used to contemplate the portrait of my dear father, which I used to talk to as if it could understand me, to mend my clothes, and to read in old school-books of the children's that were lying about, and never looked into by their owners. All the books I had ever read were the Bible, Testament, Prayer Book, and the spellin

rving if any of the gentlemen resembled my father's portrait. Mr. Joseph, who knew my story, was so good-natured as to send me to them with flowers, and, as I was always particular to

n the whole garden, for she carries viole

hands of one of the ladies, I retreated to a distant part of the garden. After this I made my observations at a great

se from two causes: the first was that most of the children envied me on account of the partiality shown me by Mr. Joseph, and would jeer at me because I was called Lady Anne. Mr. Davis's children were not among the number of these, for, on account o

a basket upon their heads, were sent to town with flowers and fruit, which would have been crushed and br

ing; the flowers were light to carry, and the walk was not so long as to be a fatigue. I also looked forward to t

dance of two or three women and one man, who was one of the principal gardeners

urs had sold off all our stock. Mrs. Williams bought the contents of my bask

where there was no one but ourselves; there we all had to give up our money to Richard, which he counted over. He took out two shillings to be spent in the house, one shilling for himself, ninepence for each of the women, and sixpence apiece for the children; then, putting the remaind

paid us for our work on Saturday night.

you if you tell him. Come, take your sixpence, and t

less it is to give it to Mr. Freeman, for

a simpleton. Take the money, and do not pr

rs told me never to take other people's prope

lap across the shoulders. 'Mr. Sanders was a canting old Methodist, and you are like

e and pulling my hair, so that I was afraid they would really kill me,

'll answer for her. I'll talk to her when we are at home

humping her. She has a pretty swelled face to show. But mind, girl, if you say a

promise of secrecy, and so

en so light; but now I felt so wretched that the distance seemed more than double, the empty ba

e thought proper, to his master. The women and children went to their work in different parts of the g

ed for me, and I trembli

ike to come to me as usual? How did you like your walk th

replied, 'and the

; 'somebody has been beating you, for you have the mark

,' said I; 'for if I tell

ither come back without it, or bring me a wrong one, though they have all been sent to school, and might have learned to read if they would. There are Davis's two daughters: Mr. Freeman paid for their schooling for two years, yet neither of

from any further trouble, and be as happy as I had been; but sorrow had agai

to hear her mother defend the conduct of Richard and the others, and blame me for not joining the robbery; and, when I would not say that the next time we went to town (for I did not dare to tel

right of me, ma'am,

be the most ungrateful creature that ever lived if you did. I took you in, and shelte

u upon any account. And I cannot rob Mr. Freeman, for he gave me employment when I had none, and he pays

s. Davis. 'I cannot argue with you, but I

t a knife into a basket that belonged to Susan, and, to my surprise and grief, found that it concealed five fine peaches in it. I trembled so when I saw them that I could scarcely cover them

ittle fruit yourself you have no right to meddle with them that do; however, I shall tell mo

d the basket, showed the peaches to her mother, and made a heavy complaint of my impertinence in telling her she ought not to

ck me several times, and said I should be the

keep my hands from picking and stealing, and father says if I steal I shall come to be

s for Lady Anne, if she does not mind what she is about

oon after this Mr. Davis came in; we had

one could be charged with it. Mr. Freeman was very angry on this occasion, as he well might, and ordered Mr. Joseph to keep a strict watch over all the workpeople, as he was determined to make an example of whoever should be detected robbing him, let it be who it might. I was anxious to know what the children did with the fruit, as I never saw them eating it,

on coming on, and the plums on a tree not being so easily counted, nor so soon missed, as peaches, the children again ventured to take a few, and

ed as if I was always to find them out in their thefts, for I one day suddenly came upon them just as they

do so? We shall

strength. 'What business have you to watch us? This is the first bit of fruit we

wish you would not take any more fr

y. I am not to be followed about and watched, a

aturday night came to ask Mr. Joseph to give me only five shillings, and not to ask me any questions, for I thought that the odd shilling would partly pay for the fruit Mr. Davis's children took. Having made this determination I felt rather happier, though I dreaded the resentment of Mrs. Davis and the children. When night came we went home together, the children not speaking to me once the whole way. When we arrived at the house Mr. Davis was out, and Susan asked he

ture. Don't we feed you and clothe you? Don't you have all the children's old clothes, and don't you mend them up and make them look so smart that you loo

h degree that she seemed to lose her reason, and, again seizing me by the arm, she said she would give me cause to repent of my ingratitude to the latest moment of my

stole the peaches. Little did I think, when there was such a piece of work about them, that my own children were the thieves, and little did

ren taking a few pence apiece? They have more trouble when they go to town, and t

to town, and if they take more than the master allows I say that they cheat him, but I'll put a st

ng to tell him that they div

u two girls, hear what I say to you. Every one of those plums must be returned. You must take all of them back again, and lay them under the trees that y

itated, first by anger and then by fear, threw herself into a chair, and burst into a violent p

t consider what a bad course our girls have begun in. They have begun with trifles, but they will go on till they take something great

e. The girls shall not steal any more. If they bring home any more fruit I will not put it

ng of this sort will ever happen again. Now, children, leave off crying, and be good girls, and rememb

nd from some angry glances cast at me by Mrs. Davis I saw I had yet more to dread from her resentment. When I was going to bed Mr.

eir anger. When I reached my loft I gazed with tears upon my father's picture, and earnestly did I wish and pray that I might at some time be resto

l of people who were really kind to me, but whose practices were such as I could not follow. The hour of dinner came, and with a heavy heart I went to the cottage, dreading the angry looks, and perhaps reproaches, of Mrs. Davis. When I arrived there I found the brother and sister-in-law of Mrs. Davis were paying her a visit. I had seen these people once before, and soon after I came into the family; they were pedlars, and tr

burden to us, and she makes quarrels between my husband and me, for you know that Davis is so particular, and has such odd notions about honesty, that he seems to think it next

was surprised that she was not ashamed of telling such things, but she was not, and her brother only laugh

to Lady Anne (I think you call her) being very hones

t trust her with your pack and boxes all open; she would not rob yo

her. 'But she has only been used to gardening. She will be of very li

ing she has done for me since she has been here. I have never had the children so tidy in m

ht of being sent away with Mr. Sharpley and his wife. 'Pray let me s

thing when you see my children take some, and to take a market-penny when y

id I, bursting into tears

ntirely your own fault. I had no wish to part with you,

ut I warrant she will tell a different tale by this time t

give her a trial for a few months. If she does not do for us, we can

y girl, if you have any better clothes make haste and put them on;

e off, it's ten to one but he knocks all the business on the head, and I shall have the

they were going to send me away against my will; but I suppose they were afraid I should do so, for Susan did not leave me a single moment til

are you crying for, simpleton? We shall not hurt you, and you

father; and these I was obliged to leave, without so much as saying good-bye to them. I was not able to eat a morsel of dinner, and Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley having finished theirs, we rose up to depart. I sobbed so that I could not speak. Mrs. Davis and the girls se

ter

path became wider-they told me to come and walk between them. I did so, and they then asked me a great many questions respecting my story, all of which I was obliged to answer, so that they soon knew every particular, excepting my having my father's picture, which I took care not to give the least hint of. They then asked me about my age, and, as I could not answer them exactly, they calculated it as well as they could from circumstances. Supposing I was five years old at the time of my mother's death, as I was seven years at E--, I must have been twelve years old the November before I went to the Smiths, thirteen last November, when I ran away from them; and should be fourteen next November. It was now the beginning o

ive them an answer, but almost shut their doors in our faces. Thus passed away several hours. The shades of evening were beginning to fall, and I was very weary with walking so much, when we entered a large town, where they told me we should pass the nigh

stuff to make a dress for Lady Anne. She is very well dre

he remains of a piece of very pretty slate-colo

must stitch away, for your dress must b

ey went out. His wife very expeditiously cut out my dress, and gave me the skirt to make, while she sat down to make the body and sleeves. I had been used to do a great deal of sewing, and was not slow at my needle; but I think I never in my

ry well. If you are diligent you shall hav

ey and I returned to our work, and Mr. Sharpley read aloud from a newspaper. Thus passed the time, till a few minutes after twelve, when my dress was finished, excepting a little trimming of ribbon, which Mrs.

een travelling in a post-chaise without an attendant. It seems to me that, whatever your father was, he had left your mother, and that she was returning to her own friends to live with them, when she was taken ill at E--and died. If this is the case, which appears t

us-that if he was to see me he would not own me-oh! could that be possible? Yet how was it that I was really left a wanderer in the wide world? That I knew not, but the certainty that I was so made me weep bitterly. Calming my agitation as much as I was able, I promised to be diligent in the

arrived at our inn, Mr. Sharpley went out while the tea was being prepared, and returned in little more than half an hour. We then had tea, after which he went out again. Mrs. Sharpley then employed herself in making caps and frills to sell, and I passed the evening in putting the trimming on to my dress. I now began to feel more reconciled to my new mode of life. Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley were good-natured, and certainly treated me with kindness, and I thought, if they did not want me to steal, I might be very comfortable with them. The week passed away. Saturday night came, and they gave me sixpence, telling me they should give me as much every week, so long as I

ld them, they had a great variety, and thus circumstanced my life passed very pleasantly. Of stealing I never heard a word, and I began to think they had only talked of it to frighten me, but the time now came when I was to be undeceived. One evening when we arrived at our inn, before

ell you the trut

horror. 'How could you do so?

ole, from the farmer's wife who bought the s

titude and baseness of the ac

evening when I go out it is generally to some friend of mine, who takes this kind of goods off my hands, and gives me money instead of them. When o

e you had parted with them, and they were to be found

ely be hung,' repl

ney to live upon from the things you sell? You know it is a very wicked

nd as well disposed as you are. I will not argue the subject any further with you now, but I wish, by degrees,

be as poor and as miserable as I was a

rcely a day passed without his taking something from the people who bought of him. His wife, I do believe, if she had not been influenced by him,

e tricks of yours will one d

their taking other peoples' property, for they were good-natured, paid very honestly for

ore a judge to see if I had assisted him or knew anything about it; then he sat as judge, and I was always to deny having any knowledge of the theft, and when I did not answer r

es to be out of the way while it passed. On Mr. Sharpley inquiring what was the matter, he was told it was a man going to be hung for privately stealing in a dwelling-house. My heart seemed to die within me when I he

r?' said Mr. Sharp

e taken up and be hung too. I do wish that you would be honest. Do not give me any more money

and executions in the newspapers, and when we met that poor man to-day you don't know how

n up for theft, and am brought to within an inch of my life, so that there seems no chance of escaping, then, if any unforeseen circumstance arises and delivers

tter,' said his wife, 'for I am si

g these thefts, we were obliged instead of keeping along the road to cross the fields and go for miles out of our way, and at night to sleep in outhouses or barns, that we might not be seen before Mr. Sharpley had come to some place where he could part with his stolen goo

ere passing a very fine park, we stopped to admire it. A broad avenue plante

sell something.' He opened the gate, we entered, and walked up the avenue to the ho

oth is spread for dinner, and

lady's maid, who she thought would show some of the muslins and laces to the ladies upstairs. She then went away, using the precaution of locking the dining-parlour door, and taking

e has locked the door, but I rather think she h

turned in less than five minutes,

quit the park till they do come, for we might be seen from

em have at their own price. Our goods were then expeditiously packed up, and we left the park. We had no sooner reached the road than he told us we must cross over and go into the field on the opposite side, where we must keep along under the screen of the hedge till we came to some place where we could cross over

; there we shall sleep. We must be up again by four in the morning, and go on to A--; that is only five miles further, and will be a

onsisting of cold victuals and a glass of ale apiece, for Mr. Sharpley always carried provisions with him in a wallet, in case of accidents, he said. Into this wallet he had crammed the plunder that he had taken from the gentleman's house. The shades of night every moment became darker, the dim figures of the countrymen, as they were returning to their homes, were seen less frequently, and the lights that gleamed from the cottage windows were by degrees all extinguished, but it was not

he first they will seize and examine. You must, if possible, step on one side and throw these things away into a di

f possible, make my escape from the barn and leave them for ever. Having arranged the things in my bo

way, but only to be c

pte

f from his grasp, and asked him

aid he. 'I suppose y

I, 'tell him I shall not live with h

nd, as you will most likely see Mr. Sharpley this morning

me to?' said I, struggling

our worthy friend, Mr. Sharpley. You will all be tried

all reduced by the dishonesty of Mr. Sharpley. When we entered the road I found, to my surprise, that I had in the gl

There I was left for nearly two hours, and had full leisure to think over my melancholy situation. It appeared to me most likely that we should all be condemned to die, and when I thought of my past life-how very little I had known but sorro

e tried for my life. I instantly arose. He took me by the arm and led me into a large room, where there were a great many people assembl

and some ladies. I heard the people near me whisper that they were the persons who had been robbed, and that they were come to swear to the things. I did not look at them more than merely t

h I found was called being put to the bar. I was then ordered to tak

nne,' I

gh circled ro

' demanded the justice

know,' a

our mock trials, Mr. Sharpley had taught me to give, for he said I

me?' with increased sever

not

e you yourself g

y An

the name you choose to be called

ser

what reason you a

nnot

addressing me: 'Lady Anne, you are accused of robbing, in conjunction with your master, James

elf,' replied I, 'nor did I

years so old in vice,' observed the justi

d

carry it

d

s the ke

t to take the key from my neck, and that it was still in my possession. With my

I faltering

must see the con

ing to my father's picture, and I trembled so violently that I could not disentangle it without drawing the picture

ld and adorned with pearls?' said he.

lied; 'it is my own property, and

me,' said the justice. '

ys and spread my hands ove

elong to anybody in the world but myself,

er, Johnson,' s

ribbon, dragged the picture from me, and handed it to the justice. My misery was now c

by a woman who was a spectator, and Johnson, the officer, was sprinkling me with water. It was some minutes before

ours, it certainly shall be returned to you; but try to recollect y

of it for me, and when I was sent to London he let me have it myself, that I might, if I should ever meet with my father, be able to know him. That

know your father's name? D

ot be here; but I do not know his

u ever

went away when I was five years ol

on near, but at my last answer that gentleman who was seated beside

nd tell me if you think

countenance I traced, though more advanced in life, the features of that portrait that had

e my father-you are my

oom was sprinkling me with water, another holding a vinaigrette to me, my father chafing my temples, and the justice standing near, looking on, not with the stern counten

said the elder of the two. 'T

ere no longer the chilling tears of sorrow I had long been used to shed, they were tears of joy and gladness at being restored to a kind father, to whom I had feared I was lost for ever. When he

child, by what miracle your life was preserved from the perils of

rils of the sea, for I was never upon it that I know of in my life; and now, my dea

but it must be deferred till your spirits are more composed. And now, Sir Robert,' turning

lations on the happy discovery of your daughter; and to you, Lady Anne, I beg leave to return the po

ing passed, we were depart

ecting the Sharpleys? Shall I remand t

ave pity on Mr. Sharpley and his wife, f

but I wish first to hear your story, and then I shall know how to proceed. So, Sir Rober

oon conveyed to that house where the day before I had stood as a poor little

nds her fath

indness was his sister, Lady Caroline Beaumont. The young lady, who appeared about thirteen, was my cousi

ad been up the whole night, insisted that I should go to bed, and try to get a littl

al detail of everything that had happened to me as far back as I could remember. Whe

entment and ambition thus to occasion the death of the most amiable of women. But proceed, my child, with your melanch

ime it was so late, and I was so much exhausted, that my fat

and, when I retired to bed, I was furnished w

g never to steal again, were released, and later

ings by relating it as briefly as I can. Your mother was of a very good fami

before I thought that I felt more for her than a common friendship. This, in some respects, was an unfortunate circumstance, for my father, who was then Earl of Malbourne, w

sent to my marrying her. About a year after this, her father engaged in some mercantile business that failed; he was also very much defrauded by his agents, so that, from being what might be called a rich man,

had often told my father that I could never marry Lady Clara Froward, for that I was attached to another lady, and only wished for his cons

uch distress, I determined not to wait any longer, but offered my hand to your mother, and urged her father to consent to the marriag

ceive my amiable wife as his daughter. He wrote me word that I had married without h

the park. There we lived very happily for a length of time; my sister, who had been bridesmaid to your mother, frequently came to see us; there you were born, and my sister was one of your godmothers. The reason of your being called Lady Anne was entirely owing to a whim of your maid's, for

giment, which was going upon foreign service. It is needless to say anything of the deep grief that your mother

entreating her to write immediately, and inform me if anything had happened. I soon received her answer, which informed me that my father, taking advantage of my absence, had unfo

; and he was in such a passion that my dear mother fainted away on the ground, and a servant,

nry Beaumont), and concluded her letter by saying that she should continue in privacy in those apartments till my return, as she dreaded a repetition of the Earl's visit if she remained in Piccadilly. A few days after she had been in these lodgings she saw the Earl pass by on the other side of the street, accidentally he has since assured me it was. The idea instantly seized her that he was searching for her, and, not knowing what might be the consequences should he discover her retreat, she determi

ried in the same watery grave! When the campaign was ended I returned to England, and resigned my commission. My grief was so great that I believed I should have lost my senses had it not been for the kindness of my sister and Sir Henry, who obliged me almost by force to reside with them. My father, too late repenting of his cruelty, and shocked at the dreadful calamity it had occasioned, sought a reconciliation with his wretched son. I shall not dwell upon the particulars of the distressing interview that passed between us; we were reconciled, but my father could never forgive himself for the misery his ambition had occasione

in money for his goods, that I determined to let the law take its course with respect to him, and my servants were at the justice's to swear to the things; but the description the two women servants gave me of you interested your aunt and

nking it possible that you could be my daughter, but when at last my own portrait was produced, and you declared it to be your father's, then I thought it possible that your life might have been preserved, and I whispered Sir Robert, for I was too

s narrative, so did my aunt and cousins, with many kin

t school from the time she came to it, which was when she was twelve years old. In feat

few days, when I should have had a proper assortment of c

intend to go to those cruel people in the Borough. A few words of proper admonition may be of service to them, and induce them to treat another p

ple coming to her cottage, and asked, 'What was our pleasure?' My father told her that he was come to thank her for the kindness she had shown to a little friendless girl who went by th

ed at seeing her weep. 'I do sincerely thank you,

plums, and discharged her instantly. Luckily Phoebe had none in her pocket, and Tom they knew to be an honest boy, so they two escaped, but we had a world of trouble with Susan, for, as she had lost her character, we could hardly get her a place at all, but at last a woman in the village who takes in washing agreed to take her. There she has a great deal of work to d

, and your ill-treatment of mine at the last, that I shall say nothing further to you on the subject, but thank you for the kindness you

played, so Richard and some of the women were discharged, and the rest had such a lecturing that I don't believe there is now a creature in the garden would

ll the best policy. Well, I wish you good-day, and

to Mr. Freeman's gardens. The door being open we entere

houses,' said my father. 'I

ed the way to the nearest greenhouse. We looked at the plants, and my cousins took occasion to

that used to be here last summer, and went by that n

my father, 'and I am come to thank y

e, forgive the freedom of an old man when I say that I loved you as if you had been one of my own grandchildren, and had I known how uncomfortable you were at Davis's you should have been removed into the family of one of my own daughters, who live

his honest good man, and my father compe

den in quest of Davis and his son Tommy. We soon found them, and, on making myself known to the father, the poor man could not forbear shedding tears, and said he should be ashamed as long as he lived to think how I had been turned out

ughter can only think of the kindness you showed he

en, for that he made them much better now than when I lived with them. I gave the little fellow a guinea, and I gave his sister Phoebe five shillings, for though I did not entertain any resentm

arrived at the Garden I led the way to the shop, and found her and her two daughters busy in setting out the fruit and flowers. I asked her the price of some of t

that we took in who was in such d

oked at me very intent

or child that you were so kind as

nd so you are; and have you found you

er, and can never be sufficiently grateful to you for befriendi

could, my father gave her a slight detail of the circumstances that had brought me to his knowledge. We stayed with her nearly an hour, and, before leaving the shop, my father o

mith and his wife, for I think it is as proper to reprove them for t

d that they had been gone away for some time, for that the husband had given himself up to drinking, and the wife to gambling till they were involved in

ught a punishment upon themselves. I shall not seek for them any further. It is not my wish to re

s intention, in the course of two or three days, to take a long

ve of your dear mother. She must not lie there; I must have her removed and laid in our family vault at M

clu

provided for Nurse Jenkins and her children, and reprimanded the overseers of the workhouse, but made a present to the parish for the benefit of

in Mu

am indebted for my first personal experience of a shudder and cold beads on the forehead.) When Captain Murderer had made an end of feasting and revelry, and had dismissed the noble guests, and was alone with his wife on the day month after their marriage, it was his whimsical custom to produce a golden rolling-pin and a silver pie-board. Now, there was this special feature in the Captain's courtships, that he always asked if the young lady could make pie-crust, and if she couldn't by nature or education, she was taught. Well, when the bride saw Captain Murderer produce the golden rolling-pin and silver pie-board, she remembered this, and turned up her laced-silk sleeves to make a pie. The Captain brought out a silver pie-dish of immense capacity, and the Captain brought out flour and butter and eggs and all things needful, except the inside of the pie. Of materials for the staple of the pie itself

he fair one. The dark twin would have prevented the marriage if she could, but she couldn't. However, on the night before it, much suspecting Captain Murderer, she stole out and climbed his garden-wall, and looked in at his window through a chink in the shutter, and saw him having his teeth filed sharp. Next

always loved you, and was jealous of my sister.' The Captain took it as a compliment, and made a polite answer, and the marriage was quickly arranged. On the night before it the bride again climbed to his window, and again saw him having his teeth filed sharp. At this sight she laughed such a terrible laugh at the chink in the shutter that the Captain's blood curdled, and he said: 'I hope nothing has disagreed with me!' At that she la

pots, and to scream. And he went on swelling and turning bluer, and being more all over spots and screaming, until he reached from floor to ceiling and from wall to wall; and then, at one o'clock in the morning, he blew up with a loud explosion. At the sound of

IN GREAT

DARTON AND CO

ed by A.

f Ballad

d Edited by

uction by E

t rose a

of marbl

nts were gil

ed in the s

ing much of the spirit of the originals in her pro

een done into prose so skilfully, and have been so artistically i

eered the stots

inted on superfine

ed by Gor

ales fr

ntrodu

RING

think, to this collection of Fairy Tales from Grimm.... We d

of some of Grimm's Stories h

lustrations are full of charm

beyond repro

ess he is more delightful than ever. Mr. Gordon Browne

tions are simply

was afraid of

inted on superfine

ed by Gor

s from Han

oduc

WARD

acsimile

perfine paper, fancy cloth boa

leave nothing to be

easonable for all C

ft for children.

gly Ducklin

Darton, & Co.

ed by Gor

from F

Y NE

'Admiral

s view the Engli

. Newbolt has done his work well, and Mr. Gordon Bro

tter story-book than

inted on superfine

Darton, & Co.

ted by F

en of

LES OF

FINNEMO

ction by ART

ny torch, we can think of few more delightful or enduring gifts than this book, with its immortal themes and its g

d taste and judgmen

ls who have begun the study of the old Greek and Roman poets. To such students a knowledge o

ro lighted her

inted on superfine

ed by Gor

rience makes y

espeare

RY MA

duction By

Miss Mary Macleod's literary reputation will commend a favourable hearing. This new rendering has been v

closely than Mary and Charles Lamb, and a ch

tness thrust up

inted on superfine

ed by Hug

he Canterb

CHAUCER AND

. HARVE

tion By Dr. F

ran, and even the ver

uperfine paper, cloth b

Darton, & Co.