Bristol Bells: A Story of the Eighteenth Century

ant to speak to y

ould not listen? Bu

ear, and his granddaughter lea

Biddy, grandfat

s called Biddy, and you ain't bet

o let me go to Bristol. Jack Henderson heard old Mrs Lambert say she would like a b

and make y

should be treated well, and you

and put such silly stuff out of your head. Goody Lambert may find somebody else-not my granddaughter. C

into the orchard, where the pink-and-white blossoms of the trees

hes, covered with white lichen-some, more recently planted, spreading out straight boughs-the old and young alike all covered w

times brushing against one of the lower boughs, which she

lled. 'Bet, are

th gorse, and from which could be seen an extensive view of Bristol in one d

tant from the church of Dundry, whose tower is a landmark of this d

m. Bryda, what

looking down on a lamb which the shepherd had

king a to-do Miss Betty. Lor'! the master can af

st evening, Silas. I'll carry it i

save it now. The mother is all but dying, too, and if I save her it's

rather than a bleat, drew its thick legs

xclaimed; 'I cannot bear to see anything

l got to die, and the lamb is no worse off than we. Can't say but I am sorry though,' Silas said, in a softer tone,

d wide hat, strode away over gorse an

any ways-older in her careful thought for others, in her unselfish life, in h

r grandfather at Bishop's Farm ever

, took the charge of the house after her husband's death, when she had co

ied from the first that no good could come of it, and he was

's Farm, 'I told you so, and I knew how it would be.' Peter certainly repeated this often in the ears of his

writing was so much like hieroglyphics that on the rare occasions when she had to sign her name she

er as head of her father's house. She managed the dairy a

her young nieces, and the imaginative and enthusia

d the linen with unexampled neatness, was Mrs Burrow's favourite. She was useful, and had no new-fangled ways like Biddy, and wo

, Bet, to let me go

such a hurry to lea

month after month, year after year. Why, I shall be twenty at midsummer, and I have only bee

one near made the

a turnip. That's

,' Betty said. 'I thought yo

le Antony sent word by the carrier that he

you quarrelled w

Well, aren't you going to ask me to supper

ou and Bryda can follow when you like, but, Jack, don't fill her head with nonsense

gate click behind her, and wen

tature, with large ungainly han

ered to take Jack as an apprentice in his jeweller's shop in Corn Street, Bristol, she eagerly accepted the proposal, or rather, I should say, Mr He

in was finally struck, 'so don't expect it, Molly,' he said to his sister-in-law. 'But as you a

d butter, and cider from her farm in return for her son's board, lodgi

huge form on the ground a

doleful abou

cry for the moon as ask grandfather to let

the prompt reply

hook he

ex poor Bet

thing to see you once a week, and if you stay here I

g intently, her eyes full of wistful longing, her small hands clasped round her knees, and a pair of little feet, which the thick,

lls, Bristol bells calling-they alw

lying, Br

that boy-you kn

ng verses. But, all the same, he is not a bad sort of chap. Old Lambert hate

ght me any mor

r Chatterton will give you a lot of stuff l

Farley's Journal when y

orning. I'll wait at the turn by the church till you come. Only old Tim will know

mbert may n

ady and tell her you will come to be a grandchil

a still

swallows stretching their wings on the nests under the eaves, and fluttering and trembling before they followed their twittering parents, so d

e girl lived in her own world of romance, and peopled it with airy phantoms, as many a maiden has done before her. Her prosaic au

half maternal care over the sister of whose beauty she was so proud, and who s

was a recognised fact with Betty-the best clot

child, her sister, and skilfully covered any of Bryda's delinquencies by the garm

show signs of adoration for Bryda-mute signs, perhaps, but not the less sincere-a flower presented as she passed under

, and gave her reason to know, as at this time, that the sight of her was indispensable to his happiness. Poor Jack, he was to find out that the very temptation he put in Bryda's way-to take

I tell you, if I were you, I should write to Madam Lambert at once. You can send it by the carrier, tied up in brown paper. He baits his horse in Corn Street, close to Lambert's office, and he'll take it direct to Dowry Square. You'll get he

ling in the orchard, 'Bryda, pray come;

her hand to Jack Henderson, and disappeared under the blossoming apple trees. He longed to

lflower, a dewy fragrance. A honeysuckle just coming into full flower clasped the mullion of the old stone framework by the lattice with clinging tendrils. Above, the stars looked down, giving the sense of the infinite and eternal, which will strike at times the dullest heart with awe and reverence. The sounds

? And yet there is life, life in the city, and here it is samenes

dible than the faint whisper of the breeze and the rustle of the leaves

atch-dog, gave a low growl and the gate of the farmyard clicked again and

ht of the Mendips were early to bed and early to rise. It was therefo

there is grandfather coming up to bed. How

by the girl's bedroom, there was a pause, and th

d on the latch of the door, whi

s were heard getting fainter and fainter as th

ith the fear of something unusual and strange,

t the desire which is granted is 'the tree of life,' for the fruit too often has a bitter taste, or ere we can grasp it is turned to dust and ashes. Bryda's longings were to be

t up to his bed tha