Miss Grantley's Girls / And the Stories She Told Them

aven't the remotest idea. I fancy it must have been Mr. Petifer, the curate, who suggested it after he had been to preach for a friend of his in London. I know that he was much impr

owards the middle of a verse, and a remarkable lingering fall into deep bass at the end, we soon regarded it as a praiseworthy attempt to give variety to his previous vapid utterances, and came rather

and Gate," who kept a select stud of saddle-horses, and had promoted the tradesmen's club-nobody was ever seen in a hurry, not even the doctor who had come to take old Mr. Varico's practice, and was quite a young man from the hospitals. He began by bustling about, and walking as though he was out for a wager, and speaking as though he expected people to do things in a minute; but he soon got over that. Folks at Chewton Cudley had a way of looking with a slow, placid, immovable stare at anybody who showed unseemly haste. If they were told to "be quick" or to "look sharp," they woul

he same impatient toleration of "dawdlers," as had distinguished him on his first coming. He had been a famous cricketer at college, and one of the first things he did was to form a cricket club; but he always said the batsman waited to watch the ball knock down the wicket, and the fielders stood staring into space when they o

ied for so many years had almost ceased to be a topic for speculation, for it had somehow become known that some great sorrow had befallen him years before, and it was supposed that he had been "crossed in love;" though, to give them credit, there were unmarried ladies of the congregation who never could and never would believe that a young man such as he must have been, could have spoken in vain to any well-regulated young person possessed of a heart. They came to the conclusion, therefore, that he never told his love; and as he had c

inal Christmas carol. He even called upon the ladies-and we were all of us rather shocked at the time-to bring their music; and as a piano had actually been hired from somewhere, and stood on the platform, he called upon his sister for a song there and then, and she actually-we were surprised-sang one of those old English ballads to hear which we had regarded as

te was the performance of Mr. Binks, who was with difficulty persuaded to sit on the platform, where, after fixing his eye on the remotest corner of the ceiling, he began by giving himself a circular twist on his ch

! Terry

ice you

ibe in song how some

whisky

y for hi

s in the front row were saddened; but the vicar laughed, the brewer led off a round of applause with the farmers, the doctor g

's dea

y the b

was singularly "like the real thing," Mr. Binks had risen in

unruly boys on the side benches, and the recitation ended in some confusion and suppressed chuckling on the part of the farmers and their wives. But the eldest Miss Rumbelow was persuaded to attempt one of Moore's melodies, and selected "Young Love Once Dwelt," with a singularly wiry accompaniment, and this having restored complete decorum the curate ca

prame of su

g ca-alm a

r-and-twenty

ng out of

The tragical conclusion was marked by a simultaneous, low, long, agricultural whistle, which did duty as a sigh, and the audience first stared into each other's faces and then gave a roar of applause, amidst which the vicar announced th

ssed with Mr. Petifer's sudde

Shorter, as he buttoned his coat. "Folk do'ent go up to London for

iculty in inducing many of the readers to meet the audible remarks, the half-concealed mirth, and even the exaggerated applause of their audiences, when the vicar on

have the guest's room got ready, as he expected a profess

ck penetrating glance at them and the sign and the bar of the tap, where he called for a glass of ale and inquired his way to the vicarage. He was a well-knit, active man of about forty-five, with dark, glossy hair, just beginning to gray; a dark, short moustache; shaven

and was introduced by the vicar as "My friend Mr. Walter De Montfort, a gentleman connected with the dramatic profession in

an's face; such a rich, flexible, sonorous roll in his voice; such a conscious appropriateness in his rather exaggerated gestures, that when he com

roberut of

l eye and ear, and when he had conclude

e. Mr. De Montfort was not a regular actor now. He had been, but he now taught elocution and deportment, and had been introduced to the vicar by a brother clergyman in London much interested in the union of church and stage. His credentials were undoubted, but it was feared he was poor. Of his ability ev

then pursed up her lips and looked steadily at the vicar's sister, evidently meaning to disconcert that lady with some indication of the thought

that very well; but he is a clever, amusing man, and his reading will help on the society. On the whole, though, I think it's quite as well he should leave before long, for I'm certain idli

. He described to us the stage of a theatre, and told us all about how a play was performed and how the actors came on and went off, opening the door between the parlour and the drawing-room and hanging it with table-covers to represent the front of the stage. Then he recited Hamlet and King Lear; and we all left off work to look at him; and when he wound up with a p

had held an extra night for instructing some of the members in the art of elocution. Only three people seemed rather doubtful as to their opinion of the visitor. One of these was the vicar's sister. She said nothing slighting, but it was evident that she mistrusted him a little. Another was Mr. Petifer, and his coolness to the stranger was set down to jealousy, especially when he fired up on th

e daughter down to Chewton for the holidays. Mr. Binks would have taken De Montfort off the vicar's hands in a minute. Raspall was heard to intimate that he had a nice warm spare room over the bakeh

"George and Gate," countersigned by the members of the club, to spend the last evening with them, and they had even

he could return about eleven for a glass of hot spiced elder-wine before going to bed. The vicar had put his hand on De Montfort's shoulder as he said this, and was looking at him in his kind, genial way, when his visitor looked up, rose, hesitate

'll say yes," he replied; "but I had thoug

cakes for the school treat, and no end of things. So we'll meet at a late supper; don't stay to the club pies and sausages, but get back in time f

as equal to the occasion. It was a hearty welcome to their visitor. He responded with a few words and a recitation. There was a song and another toast, and then the accomplished visitor played on the "George and Gate" fiddle in a manner that astonished everybody-played it behind his back, over his head, under his arm, between his knees with the bow in his mouth. Then he showed a few tricks with the cards, spun plates, passed coins and watches into space, and sung a song with a violin accompaniment. The evening was in his honour, and he opened his whole repertoire of accomplishments. Time passed quickly; the waiters were at the door with the table-cloths ready to lay for suppe

ving sinner," said Clodd, forcing hims

t engine?" But the key of the engine-house had to be found, and the wretched old thing had to be wheeled out, and the hose attached and righted; and before all this could be done the flame, which seemed to have begun at

now pouring out and blackening the old woodwork, a glimpse of a child's face had been

rtico," cried Clodd; "but I'm too heavy. Here; who'

, and with one bound had reached the carved cornice of the portico with his right hand. The whole structure quivered, but in

sit there amidst the smoke and to force the sash upward. They had scarcely had time to cry out that he had entered the room when he was out again-pursued by the flame that now roared from the open space, but with something under his arm. Somebody had brought out a large blanket, and four men were holding it; the engine was just beginning to play feebly where it was

ite. It was too late; he had stooped to swing himself off, when the whole thing fell in ruin, and he in the

n a hurdle made soft with blankets and straw. He was insensible, but his face and head were uninjured, for he was found lying with his ar

ent than for his injured house, which was still smouldering, though the engine had at last put out the fire. His child was safe, but he felt almost guilty for rejoicing that her life had been spared. Binks and Clodd sat patien

shaded lamp. When De Montfort had been carried in and placed upon the bed the doctor had asked to be allowed to undress him-without help-as it required a practised hand, and for a moment the vicar left the room to bring up

he said in a curious tone, taking hold of the vicar's wrist as

ou mean? I

nk you ought to see. I may be mistaken, but I seldom miss observing a likeness, especially on

eady flashed upon him; and as he carried the trinket to the candle above the mantel-piece h

c tone. "Poverty is not the worst of human ills, and even occasional want, if it be not too prolonged, is endura

d upon his shoulder. "Take my thanks, my dear friend," he said with

ing, watching, the injured man moved and tried t

was bending over

the doctor ag

speak to you

t the next day the vicar went to London, and before the week was out a plain funeral went from the vicarage to the old churchyard, and the curate conducting the burial service had to stop with his handkerchief to h

long had rested, and was buried when the heart beneath it had ceased to b

----

about the Baby's Hand, and so if you please I'll read you another from a little black-covered manuscript book which my old friend gave me. He said it was a story about a very near friend and schoolfellow of his, and was one of the most pat