Bristol Bells: A Story of the Eighteenth Century

h almost fiery eloquence. She could scarcely believe the apprentice taking his meals with the footboy in th

nion told her of the old parchments, used forsooth as covers of books, or cut up in

prentice, brought up on the charity of Colston's School, has brought him to light, and in due time we shall see his memory receive the laurel crown, denied him perhaps in his life. It is only these dull trading Brist

mence of her companion, and looking back, saw they h

s manner change

you who are so full of life and beauty

ve is

o his

r the wi

ou shall have a song of springtime, not of the grave-th

imed. 'Though I have many cares at this time, yet I love lif

he reply. 'But now for the vers

me dancing on

en raiment of

awthorn budding

primroses wavi

epherd his whit

bank, and dan

t flowerets nod

bs were scattere

oot the brook

und the vale to he

f years ago. I tell it to you in the language of to-day, but it

Opening of the Bristol Bridge" full of beauty, yet it teased me to scan the words t

rton l

me that the friend and confessor of Canynge had wrote all these poems for the edifying of his patron, I toiled night and day till I was able to interpret them for this

riends, but if, as you say, you are yet but sixte

is not counted by years, but by the strife and the struggle and t

We all know our own troubles. I have mine, and I am now parted from a siste

ved by a party of girls who were returning through

ed and laughed at Chatter

s, whoever you may be, that Master Tom is a terrible o

n't talk such foolery, Sally. Leave th

hers,' was the saucy rep

ss Chatterton purposely avoided joini

ow s

your leave, I will join her, and advise her to take advant

my brother would fain take her into the

He had been annoyed, too, by the remarks of the free-spoken young lady, who had rallied hi

nd the wonderful story of his poems, in the feeli

oir rose to the vaulted roof, her whole soul was wrapt in that feeling which has no other name but devotion. The unseen Presence of what was holy and pure seemed to encompass

rown back with a strangely defiant air, his lips curled with contempt, his hands clasped at his back, and hi

ring its own doom. The lawyer's apprentice, who had this rare gift of poetry, was to know only broken hope

m, chafing against his lot, and conscious, who shall say how bitterly conscious, that like the baseless fabric of a dream the poems of the priest of St John would vanish, and he, Thomas Chatterton, the tr

ton chafed at this, and he scarcely spoke a word during tea. Jack Henderson and Chatterton's mother made an attempt at conversation, but honest Ja

footboy was to have his turn for a holiday after six o'clock. Jack was

ch to say to Tom C

up at him a

d so much to say

man for you to make a

did not call yourself a man then when you were at the Gra

s I should pity a young eagle shut up in a close cage, and feeling all his st

ou give him all your company a

riends for new. But, Jack, I am so frightened when I

u by the orchard gate tha

you; it was all meant to

give your grandfather a m

hesi

out he would have me

onest face flushed

n! I see what he is driving at

re and more vehement, and his lo

e I would be bought like that? No! What would Bet say

ee you dead,'

rouse Jack's wrath, so she asked him to

m produce comes in once a month on market days the old carter as

n gave me some paper from the office, but I don't think that is quite honest, so please buy me a little. I can give y

hed her

t your shill

cross-grained,' Bryda sa

ve that mad boy at your heels. Take care what you do in Bristol; it is full of people, and some of them are bad enough. So t

a prolonged slumber, and Sam had brought in the tray all unobserved at five o'clock. Mr Lambert generally spent his Sunday afternoons with a friend at Long Ashton, and some

Miss Palmer? It mus

l go and boil the kettle, and make the te

and Mrs Lambert solemnly unlocked it. Tea was precious in those days, and Mrs

person, and on

y tea, madam,

aid graciously. 'I am getting a little faint,' she added, yaw

ons, set Sam at liberty till nine o'clock, and very

and Mrs Lambert called her 'a very notable young per

e corner cupboard. Then she took a seat by the window, at Mrs Lambert's request, and read to her-a dry serm

th delight, and she joy

ose any bo

ome there not for Sunday reading, or indee

Lost,' Bryda said

ntice had dared to abstract a volume of an old poet-which I am sure he could not read-by name Chaucer, f

Chatterton can read old English, for I suppose