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 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hil 
 
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MISCELLANEOUS TALES 
 
" It's Cobbs ! It's Cobbs ! " ckies Master Harry. Page 182. 
 
children's 
 Own Library 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 J. ELLIS BURDICK 
 
 WITH A 
 
 GENI.RAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES WELSH 
 
 Editor of "The Young Folk's Library," Author of "Right 
 Reading for Children," etc. 
 
 Volume X 
 MISCELLANEOUS TALES 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 NATIONAL LIBRARY COMPANY 
 
Copyrighted, 1910, by 
 NATIONAL LIBRARY COMPANY 
 
V 
 
 /2uU Jrw % ui 
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 Christmas Stories from Dickens 
 Wood's Natural History 
 
. j 
 
 Editor's Introductory Note 
 
 Charles Dickens, the greatest English novelist, was born 
 February 7, 1812, at Landsport, near Portsmouth, Eng- 
 land. His education was received in public schools and he 
 began life as a newspaper reporter, after having served for 
 a time as a clerk in an attorney's office. His "Pickwick 
 Papers," published in 1836-1837, established his literary 
 reputation. From that time on until his death on June 9, 
 1870, at Gadshill, near Rochester, England, he continued 
 to write. His most famous work is "Pickwick Papers," his 
 best, "The Tale of Two Cities," and the most popular 
 "Christmas Stories." He is buried in Westminster Abbey. 
 
 The second part of these volumes is of quite a different 
 character from the preceding volumes. Works on natural 
 history are always favorite reading with the young and 
 Rev. J. G. Wood's "Natural History" supplies the juvenile 
 population with a book which is clear in its arrangement 
 and gives accurate information. The illustrations not only 
 give the reader a better idea of the creatures than any mere 
 descriptions could possibly do, but are very attractive as 
 well. While these sketches are necessarily brief, they give 
 all the necessary information as to the habits and appear- 
 ances of the creatures. This is especially true of the birds 
 
INTBODUCTOBY XOTE 
 
 and animals of the United States. Mr. Wood's style is 
 admirably suited to the children for whom it was intended 
 and at the same time it is agreeable reading for their 
 
 elders. 
 
 • -'. - - - - ••- . -> » 
 
CHRISTMAS STORIES 
 By 
 
 Charles Dickens 
 
THE CRICKET ON 
 THE HEARTH. 
 
 CHIRP THE FIRST. 
 
 The Kettle began it! 
 Don't tell me what Mrs. 
 Peerybingle said. I know 
 better. M*:s. Peerybingle 
 may leave it on record to 
 the end of time that she 
 couldn't say which of them 
 began it ; but I say the Ket- 
 tle did. I ought to know, I 
 hope. The Kettle began it, 
 full five minutes by the little waxy -faced Dutch clock 
 in the corner before the Cricket uttered a chirp. 
 
 As if the clock hadn't finished striking, and the con- 
 vulsive little Haymaker at the top of it, jerking away 
 right and left with a scythe, in front of a Moorish Pal- 
 
2 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 ace, hadn't mowed down half an acre of imaginary grass 
 before the Cricket joined in at all! 
 
 Why, I am not naturally positive. Every one knows 
 that. I wouldn't set my own opinion against the opin- 
 ion of Mrs. Peerybingle, unless I were quite sure, on 
 any account whatever. But this is a question of fact. 
 And the fact is, that the Kettle began it, at least five 
 minutes before the Cricket gave any sign of existence. 
 
 Let me narrate exactly how it happened. I should 
 have proceeded to do so, in my very first word, but for 
 this plain consideration — if I am to tell a story I must 
 begin at the beginning ; and how is it possible to begin 
 at the beginning, without beginning at the Kettle ? 
 
 It appeared as if there were a sort of match between the 
 Kettle and the Cricket. And this is how it came about. 
 
 Mrs. Peerybingle going out into the raw twilight, and 
 clicking over the wet stones in a pair of pattens, filled 
 the Kettle at the water-butt. Presently returning, she 
 set the Kettle on the fire. In doing which she lost her 
 temper, for the water — being uncomfortably cold, and 
 in that slippy, slushy, sleety state wherein it seems to 
 penetrate through every kind of substance, patten rings 
 included — had laid hold of Mrs. Peerybingle's toes, and 
 even splashed her legs. 
 
 Besides, the Kettle was obstinate. It wouldn't allow 
 itself to be adjusted on the top bar; it wouldn't hear of 
 accommodating itself kindly to the knobs of coal; it 
 would lean forward with a drunken air, and dribble, a 
 very Idiot of a Kettle, on the hearth. It was quarrel- 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 3 
 
 some; and hissed and spluttered morosely at the fire. 
 To sum up all, the lid, resisting Mrs. Peerybingle 7 s fin- 
 gers, first of all turned topsy-turvy, and then dived side- 
 ways in — down to the very bottom of the Kettle. And 
 the hull of the Royal George never made half the mon- 
 strous resistance to coming out of the water, which the 
 lid of that Kettle employed against Mrs. Peerybingle 
 before she got it up again. 
 
 It looked sullen and pig-headed enough, even then; 
 carrying its handle with an air of defiance, and cocking 
 its spout pertly and mockingly at Mrs. Peerybingle, as 
 if it said, "I won't boil. Nothing shall induce me ! " 
 
 But Mrs. Peerybingle, with restored good humor, 
 dusted her chubby little hands against each other, and 
 sat down before the Kettle, laughing. Meantime, the 
 jolly blaze uprose and fell, flashing and gleaming on the 
 little Haymaker at the top of the Dutch clock, until one 
 might have thought he stood stock still before the Moor- 
 ish Palace, and nothing was in motion but the flame. 
 
 He was on the move, however ; and had his spasms, 
 two to the second, all right and regular. But his suffer- 
 ings when the clock was going to strike, were frightful 
 to behold ; and when a Cuckoo looked out of a trap-door 
 in the Palace, and gave note six times, it shook him, 
 each time, like a spectral voice — or like a something 
 wiry, plucking at his legs. 
 
 Now it was, you observe, that the Kettle began to 
 spend the evening. Now it was, that the Kettle, grow- 
 ing mellow and musical, began to have irrepressible 
 
4 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 gurglings in its throat, and to indulge in short vocal 
 snorts, which it checked in the bud, as if it hadn't quite 
 made up its mind yet, to be good company. Now it 
 was, that after two or three such vain attempts to stifle 
 its convivial sentiments, it threw off all moroseness, all 
 reserve, and burst into a stream of song so cosy and hil- 
 arious, as never nightingale yet formed the least idea of. 
 
 So plain, too ! Bless you, you might have understood it 
 like a book. With its warm breath gushing forth in a 
 light cloud which merrily ascended a few feet, then hung 
 about the chimney-corner as its own domestic Heaven, it 
 trolled its song with that strong energy of cheerfulness, 
 that its iron body hummed and stirred upon the fire ; 
 and the lid itself, the recently rebellious lid, performed 
 a sort of jig, and clattered like a deaf and dumb young 
 cymbal that had never known the use of its twin brother. 
 
 That this song of the Kettle's, was a song of invitation 
 and welcome to somebody out of doors ; to somebody at 
 that moment coming on, toward the snug small home 
 and the crisp fire; there is no doubt whatever. Mrs. 
 Peerybingle knew it, perfectly, as she sat musing, before 
 the hearth. It's a dark night, sang the Kettle, and the 
 rotten leaves are lying by the way ; and above, all is mist 
 and darkness, and below, all is mire and clay ; and the 
 widest open country is a long dull streak of black ; and 
 there's hoar-frost on the finger-post, and thaw upon the 
 track; and the ice it isn't water, and the water isn't 
 free; and you couldn't say that anything is what it 
 ought to be; but he's coming, coming, coming! 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 5 
 
 And here, if you like, the Cricket did chime in ! with 
 a Chirrup, Chirrup, Chirrup of such magnitude, by way 
 of chorus, with a voice, so astoundingly disproportionate 
 to its size, as compared with the Kettle, that if it had 
 then and there burst itself like an overcharged gun ; if it 
 had fallen a victim on the spot, and chirruped its little 
 body into fifty pieces : it would have seemed a natural 
 and inevitable consequence. 
 
 The Kettle had had the last of its solo performance. 
 It persevered with undiminished ardor ; but the Cricket 
 took first fiddle and kept it. Its shrill, sharp, piercing 
 voice resounded through the house, and seemed to twin- 
 kle in the outer darkness like a Star. There was an in- 
 describable little trill and tremble in it, at its loudest, 
 which suggested its being carried off its legs, and made 
 to leap again, by its own intense enthusiasm. Yet they 
 went very well together, the Cricket and the Kettle. 
 The burden of the song was still the same ; and louder 
 louder, louder still, they sang it in their emulation. 
 
 The fair little listener, for fair she was, and young, 
 lighted a candle ; glanced at the Haymaker on the top of 
 the clock, who was getting in a pretty average crop of 
 minutes ; and looked out of the window, where she saw 
 nothing, owing to the darkness, but her own face imaged 
 in the glass. And she might have looked a long way, 
 and seen nothing half so agreeable. When she came 
 back, and sat down in her former seat, the Cricket and 
 the Kettle were still keeping it up, with a perfect fury 
 of competition. 
 
6 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 There was all the excitement of a race about it. Chirp, 
 chirp, chirp! Cricket a mile ahead. Hum, hum, hum 
 — m— m! Kettle making play in the distance, like a 
 great top. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket round the 
 corner. Hum, hum, hum — m — m! Kettle sticking to 
 him in his own way; no idea of giving in. Chirp, chirp, 
 chirp! Cricket fresher than ever. Hum, hum, hum — 
 m — m! Kettle slow and steady. Chirp, chirp, chirp! 
 Cricket going in to finish him. Hum, hum, hum — m — m ! 
 
 Kettle not to be finished. Until at last, they got so 
 jumbled together that whether the Kettle chirped and 
 the Cricket hummed, or the Cricket chirped and the 
 Kettle hummed, or they both chirped and both hummed, 
 it would have taken a clearer head than yours or mine 
 to have decided. But of this, there is no doubt: that 
 the Kettle and the Cricket sent, each his fireside song of 
 comfort, streaming into a Tay of the candle that shone 
 out through the window ; and a long way down the lane. 
 And this light, bursting on a certain person who, on the 
 instant, approached toward it through the gloom, ex 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 7 
 
 pressed the whole thing to him, literally in a twinkling, 
 and cried, " Welcome home, old fellow ! Welcome home, 
 my Boy ! " 
 
 This end attained, the Kettle, being dead beat, boiled 
 over, and was taken off the fire. Mrs. Peerybingle then 
 went running to the door, where, what with the wheels 
 of a cart, the tramp of a horse, the voice of a man, the 
 tearing in and out of an excited dog, and the surprising 
 and mysterious appearance of a Baby, there was soon 
 the very What's-his-name to pay. 
 
 Where the Baby came from, or how Mrs. Peerybingle 
 got hold of it in that flash of time, 1 don't know. But 
 a live Baby there was, in Mrs. Peerybingle's arms; and 
 a pretty tolerable amount of pride she seemed to have in 
 it, when she was drawn gently to the fire, by a sturdy 
 figure of a man, much taller and much older than 
 herself; who had to stoop a long way down, to kiss 
 her. 
 
 "Oh goodness, John!" said Mrs. P. "What a state 
 you're in with the weather! " 
 
 He was something the worse for it, undeniably. The 
 thick mist hung in clots upon his eyelashes ; and between 
 the fog and fire together, there were rainbows in his 
 very whiskers. 
 
 "Why, you see, Dot," John made answer, slowly, as 
 he unrolled a shawl from about his throat ; and warmed 
 his hands; "it — it an't exactly summer weather. So no 
 wonder. " 
 
 "I wish you wouldn't call me Dot, John. I don't like 
 
8 
 
 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 it, " said Mrs. Peerybingle : pouting in a way that clearly 
 showed she did like it very much. 
 
 " Why what else are you % " returned John, looking 
 down upon her with a smile, and giving her waist as 
 light a squeeze as his huge hand and arm could give. 
 "A dot and" — here he glanced at the Baby — "a dot and 
 carry — I won't say it, for fear I 
 should spoil it ; but I was very near 
 a joke. I don't know as ever I was 
 nearer." 
 
 He was often near to something or 
 other very clever, by his own account : 
 this lumbering, slow, honest John. 
 This John, so heavy but so light of 
 spirit; so rough upon the surface, 
 but so gentle at the core; so dull 
 without, so quick within; so stolid, 
 but so good ! 
 
 It was pleasant to see Dot, with 
 her little figure and her Baby in her 
 arms, glancing with a coquettish 
 thoughtfulness at the fire, and inclin- 
 ing her delicate little head just 
 enough on one side to let it rest in an odd, half -natural, 
 half-affected, wholly nestling and agreeable manner, 
 on the great rugged figure of the Carrier. It was 
 pleasant to see him, with his tender awkwardness, 
 endeavoring to adapt his rude support to her slight need, 
 and make his burly middle-age a leaning-staff not inap- 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 9 
 
 propriate to her blooming youth. It was pleasant to 
 observe how Tilly Slowboy, waiting in the background 
 for the Baby, took special cognizance of this grouping. 
 Nor was it less agreeable to observe how John the Car- 
 rier, reference being made by Dot to the aforesaid Baby, 
 checked his hand when on the point of touching the 
 infant, as if he thought he might crack it ; and bending 
 down, surveyed it from a safe distance with a kind of 
 puzzled pride, such as an amiable mastiff might be sup- 
 posed to show, if he found himself, one day, the father 
 of a young canary. 
 
 "An't he beautiful, John? Don't he look precious 
 in his sleep ! " 
 
 "Very precious," said John. "Very much so. He 
 generally is asleep, an't he? " 
 
 "Lor, John? Good gracious no! " 
 
 "Oh," said John, pondering. "I thought his eyes 
 was generally shut. Halloa ! " 
 
 "Goodness, John, how you startle one!" 
 
 " It an't right for him to turn 'em up in that way ! " 
 said the astonished Carrier, "Is it? See how he's wink- 
 ing with both of 'em at once ! and look at his mouth ! 
 why he's gasping like a gold and silver fish! " 
 
 "You don't deserve to be a father, you don't," said 
 Dot, with all the dignity of an experienced matron. 
 And when she had turned the Baby over on her left 
 arm, and had slapped its back as a restorative, she 
 pinched her husband's ear, laughing. 
 
 "No," said John, pulling off his outer coat. "It's 
 
10 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 very true, Dot. I don't know much about it. I only 
 know that I've been fighting pretty stiffly with the Wind 
 to-night. It's been blowing northeast, straight into the 
 oart, the whole way home." 
 
 " Poor old man, so it has ! " cried Mrs. Peerybingle, 
 instantly becoming very active. "Here! Take the 
 precious darling, Tilly, while I make myself of some 
 use. Bless it, I could smother it with kissing it; I 
 could! Hie then, good dog! Hie, Boxer, boy! Only 
 let me make the tea first, John ; and then I'll help you 
 with the parcels like a busy bee. ' How doth the little ' 
 - -and all the rest of it, you know, John. Did you ever 
 learn ' how doth the little ' when you went to school, 
 John?" 
 
 "Not to quite know it," John returned. "I was very 
 near it once. But I should only have spoilt it, I dare 
 say." 
 
 "Ha, ha!" laughed Dot. She had the blithest little 
 laugh you ever heard. " What a dear old darling of a 
 dunce you are, John, to be sure ! " 
 
 Not at all disputing this position, John went out to see 
 that the boy with the lantern, which had been dancing 
 to and fro before the door and window, like a Will of 
 the Wisp, took due care of the horse. Boxer, feeling 
 that his attentions were due to the family in general, and 
 must be impartially distributed, dashed in and out with 
 bewildering inconstancy. 
 
 "There! There's the teapot, ready on the hob! " said 
 Dot, as briskly busy as a child at play at keeping house. 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 11 
 
 "And there's the cold knuckle of ham; and there's the 
 butter; and there's the crusty loaf, and all! Here's a 
 clothes-basket for the small parcels, John, if you've got 
 any there— where are you, John? Don't let the dear 
 child fall under the grate, Tilly, whatever you do ! " 
 
 It may be noted of Miss Slowboy, in spite of her re- 
 jecting the caution with some vivacity, that she had a 
 rare and surprising talent for getting this Baby into 
 difficulties, and had several times imperilled its short 
 
 life, in a quiet way pecul- 
 iarly her own. She was 
 of a spare and straight 
 shape, this young lady, 
 insomuch that her gar- 
 ments appeared to be in 
 constant danger of slid- 
 ing off those sharp pegs, 
 her shoulders, on which 
 they were loosely hung. 
 Being always in a state of 
 gaping admiration at everything, and absorbed, besides, in 
 the perpetual contemplation of her mistress' perfections 
 and the Baby's, Miss Slowboy, in her little errors of 
 judgment, may be said to have done equal honor to her 
 head and to her heart ; and though these did less honor 
 to the Baby's head, which they were the occasional means 
 of bringing into contact with deal doors, dressers, stair- 
 rails, bedposts, and other foreign substances, still they 
 were the honest results of Tilly Slowboy 's constant as 
 
12 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 tonishment at finding herself so kindly treated, and in- 
 stalled in such a comfortable home. For the maternal 
 and paternal Slowboy were alike unknown to Fame, 
 and Tilly had been bred by public charity, a Found- 
 ling. 
 
 To have seen little Mrs. Peerybingle come back with 
 her husband ; tugging at the clothes-basket, and making 
 the most strenuous exertions to do nothing at all (for he 
 carried it) ; would have amused you, almost as much as 
 it amused him. It may have entertained the Cricket too, 
 for anything I know; but, certainly, it now began to 
 chirp again, vehemently. 
 
 " Heyday ! " said John, in his slow way. " It's merrier 
 than ever, to-night, I think. " 
 
 "And it's sure to bring us good fortune, John! It 
 always has done so. To have a Cricket on the Hearth is 
 the luckiest thing in all the world ! " 
 
 John looked at her as if he had very nearly got the 
 thought into his head, that she was his Cricket-in-chief, 
 and he quite agreed with her. But it was probably one 
 of his narrow escapes, for he said nothing. 
 
 "The first time I heard its cheerful little note, John, 
 was on that night when you brought me home — when 
 you brought me to my new home here ; its little mistress. 
 Nearly a year ago. You recollect, John ! " 
 
 "Oh yes." John remembered. "I should think so ! " 
 
 "Its chirp was such a welcome to me! It seemed so 
 full of promise and encouragement. It seemed to say, 
 you would be kind and gentle with me and would not 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 13 
 
 expect (I had a fear of that, John, then) to find an old 
 head on the shoulders of your foolish little wife." 
 
 John thoughtfully patted one of the shoulders, and 
 then the head, as though he would have said, No, !No ; 
 he had had no such expectation ; he had been quite con- 
 tent to take them as they were. 
 
 " It spoke the truth, John, when it seemed to say so : 
 for you have ever been the best, the most affectionate of 
 husbands. This has been a happy home, John ; and I 
 love the Cricket for its sake ! " 
 
 " Why so do I, then, " said the Carrier. " So do I, Dot. " 
 
 " I love it for the many times I have heard it, and the 
 many thoughts its harmless music has given me. Some- 
 times, in the twilight, when I have felt a little solitary 
 and down-hearted, John, and when I used to fear — I did 
 fear once, John; I was very young, you know — that 
 ours might prove to be an ill-assorted marriage: I being 
 such a child, and you more like my guardian than my 
 husband : and that you might not, however hard you 
 tried, be able to learn to love me, as you hoped and 
 prayed you might ; its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, has cheered 
 me up again, and filled me with new trust and confi- 
 dence. I was thinking of these things to-night, dear, 
 when I sat expecting you ; and I love the Cricket for 
 their sake ! " 
 
 "And so do I, " repeated John. "But Dot? /hope 
 and pray that I might learn to love you? How you 
 talk ! I had learnt that, long before I brought you here, 
 to be the Cricket's little mistress, Dot! " 
 
14 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 She laid her hand, an instant, on his arm, and looked 
 up at him with an agitated face, as if she would have 
 told him something. Next moment, she was down upon 
 her knees before the basket; speaking in a sprightly 
 voice, and busy with the parcels. 
 
 "There are not many of them to-night, John, but I 
 saw some goods behind the cart, just now; and though 
 they give more trouble, perhaps, still they pay as well ; 
 so we have no reason to grumble, have we? Besides, 
 you have been delivering, I dare say, as you came 
 along ? " 
 
 "Oh yes," John said. "A good many." 
 
 "Why what's this round box? Heart alive, John it's 
 a wedding-cake ! " 
 
 "Leave a woman alone, to find out that," said John, 
 admiringly. "Now a man would never have thought of 
 it! whereas, it's my belief that if you was to pack a 
 wedding-cake up in a tea-chest, or a turn-up bedstead, 
 or a pickled salmon keg, or any unlikely thing, a woman 
 would be sure to find it out directly. Yes; I called for 
 it at the pastry-cook's." 
 
 "And it weighs I don't know what — whole hundred- 
 weights ! " cried Dot, making a great demonstration of 
 trying to lift it. "Whose is it, John? Where is it 
 going ? " 
 
 "Bead the writing on the other side," said John. 
 
 "Why, John! My Goodness, John!" 
 
 "Ah! who'd have thought it! " John returned. 
 
 "You never mean to say," pursued Dot, sitting on the 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 15 
 
 floor and shaking her head at him, "that it's Gruff and 
 Tackleton the toymaker f " 
 
 John nodded. 
 
 Mrs. Peerybingle nodded also, fifty times at least. 
 Not in assent : in dumb and pitying amazement ; screw- 
 ing up her lips the while with all their little force, and 
 looking the good Carrier through and through, in her 
 abstraction. 
 
 Miss Slowboy, in the mean time, who had a mechani- 
 cal power of reproducing scraps of current conversation 
 for the delectation of the Baby, with all the sense struck 
 out of them, and all the Nouns changed into the Plural 
 number, inquired aloud of that young creature, Was it 
 Gruifs and Tackletons the toymakers then, and Would it 
 call at Pastry-cooks for wedding-cakes, and Did its 
 mothers know the boxes when its fathers brought them 
 homes; and so on. 
 
 "And that is really to come about!" said Dot. 
 "Why, she and I were girls at school together, John." 
 
 He might have been thinking of her as she was in that 
 same school time. He looked upon her with a thought- 
 ful pleasure, but he made no answer. 
 
 "And he's as old! As unlike her! — Why, how many 
 years older than you, is Gruff and Tackleton, John! " 
 
 " How many more cups of tea shall I drink to-night at 
 one sitting, than Gruff and Tackleton ever took in four, 
 I wonder! " replied John, good-humoredly, as he drew a 
 chair to the round table, and began at the cold ham. " As 
 to eating, I eat but little; but that little I enjoy, Dot." 
 
16 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 Even this, his usual sentiment at meal times, one of 
 his innocent delusions, awoke no smile in the face of his 
 little wife, who stood among the parcels, pushing the 
 cake-box slowly from her with her foot, and never once 
 looked upon the dainty shoe she generally was so mind- 
 ful of. Absorbed in thought, she stood there, heedless 
 alike of the tea and John (although he called to her, and 
 rapped the table with his knife to startle her), until he 
 rose and touched her on the arm ; when she looked at 
 him for a moment, and hurried to her place behind the 
 teaboard, laughing at her negligence. But not as she 
 had laughed before. The manner, and the music, were 
 quite changed. 
 
 The Cricket, too, had stopped. Somehow the room 
 was not so cheerful as it had been. 
 
 "So, these are all the parcels, are they, Johnf" she 
 said, breaking a long silence. 
 
 "That's all," said John. "Why— no— I— » laying 
 down his knife and fork, and taking a long breath. 
 "I declare — I've clean forgotten the old gentleman! " 
 
 "The old gentleman? " 
 
 "In the cart," said John. "He was asleep, among 
 the straw, the last time I saw him. I've very nearly 
 remembered him, twice, since I came in ; but he went 
 out of my head again. Halloa! Yahip there! rouse 
 up ! That's my hearty ! V 
 
 John said these latter words outside the door, whither 
 he had hurried with the candle in his hand. 
 
 Miss Slowboy, conscious of some mysterious reference 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 17 
 
 to The Old Gentleman, was so disturbed, that hastily 
 rising from the low chair by the fire to seek protection 
 near her mistress, and coming into contact as she crossed 
 the doorway with an ancient Stranger, she instinctively 
 made a charge at him with the only offensive instrument 
 within her reach. This instrument happening to be the 
 Baby, great commotion and alarm ensued, which the 
 sagacity of Boxer rather tended to increase; for that 
 good dog, more thoughtful than his master, had, it 
 seemed, been watching the old gentleman in his sleep 
 lest he should walk off with a few young poplar trees 
 that were tied up behind the cart ; and he still attended 
 on him very closely ; worrying his gaiters, in fact, and 
 making dead sets at the buttons. 
 
 "You're such an undeniable good sleeper, Sir," said 
 John, when tranquillity was restored ; in the mean time 
 the old gentleman had stood, bareheaded and motionless, 
 in the centre of the room; "that I have half a mind + o 
 ask you where the other six are : only that would be a 
 joke, and I know I should spoil it. Very near, though," 
 murmured the Carrier, with a chuckle; "very near!" 
 
 The Stranger, who had long white hair ; good features, 
 singularly bold and well defined for an old man; and 
 dark, bright, penetrating eyes; looked round with a 
 smile, and saluted the Carrier's wife by gravely inclining 
 
 his head. 
 
 ■ 
 
 His garb was very quaint and odd — a long, long way 
 behind the time. Its hue was brown all over. In his 
 hand he held a great brown club or walking-stick ; and 
 
18 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 striking this upon the floor, it fell asunder, and became 
 a chair. On which he sat down quite composedly. 
 
 "There!" said the Carrier, turning to- his wife. 
 "That's the way I found him, sitting by the roadside! 
 upright as a milestone. And almost as deaf. " 
 
 "Sitting in the open air, John! " 
 
 "In the open air," replied the Carrier, "just at dusk. 
 f Carriage Paid, ' he said ; and gave me eighteenpence. 
 Then he got in. And there he is. " 
 
 "He's going, John, I think! " 
 
 Not at all. He was only going to speak. 
 
 "If you please, I was to be left till called for," said 
 the Stranger, mildly. "Don't mind me." 
 
 With that, he took a pair of spectacles from one of 
 his large pockets, and a book from another ; and leis- 
 urely began to read. Making no more of Boxer than if 
 he had been a house lamb ! 
 
 The Carrier and his wife exchanged a look of perplex- 
 ity. The Stranger raised his head ; and glancing from 
 the latter to the former, said : 
 
 "Your daughter, my good friend? " 
 
 "Wife," returned John. 
 
 " Niece ? " said the Stranger. 
 
 "Wife," roared John. 
 
 "Indeed?" observed the Stranger. "Surely! Very 
 young ! " 
 
 He quietly turned over, and resumed his reading. 
 But, before he could have read two lines, he again inter 
 rupted himself, to say: 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 19 
 
 "Baby, yours V 
 
 John gave him a gigantic nod. 
 
 "Girl?" 
 
 "Bo-o-oy!" roared John. 
 
 "Also very young, eh? " 
 
 Mrs. Peerybingle instantly struck in. "Two months 
 and three da-ays! Vaccinated just six weeks ag-o! 
 Took very fine-ly ! Considered by the doctor, a remark- 
 ably beautiful chi-ild! Equal to the general run of 
 children at five months o-old ! Takes notice in a way 
 quite won-der-ful! May seem impossible to you, but 
 feels his legs al-ready ! " 
 
 Here the breathless little mother, who had been 
 shrieking these short sentences into the old man's ear 
 until her pretty face was crimsoned, held up the Baby 
 before him as a stubborn and triumphant fact. 
 
 " Hark ! He's called for, sure enough," said 
 John. "There's somebody at the door. Open 
 Tilly." 
 
 Before she could reach it, however, it was opened 
 from without; being a primitive sort of door, with a 
 latch that any one could lift if he chose — and a good 
 many people did choose, for all kinds of neighbors liked 
 to have a cheerful word or two with the Carrier. Being 
 opened, it gave admission to a little, meagre, thoughtful, 
 dingy-faced man who seemed to have made himself a 
 great-coat from the sack-cloth covering of some old box, 
 f or when he turned to shut the door and keep the weather 
 out, he disclosed upon the back of that garment, the in- 
 
20 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 scrip tion G & T in large black capitals. Also the word 
 GLASS in bold characters. 
 
 "Good evening, John!" said the little man. "Good 
 evening, Mum. Good evening, Tilly. Good evening, 
 Unbeknown. How's Baby, Mum! Boxer's pretty well, 
 I hope?" 
 
 "All thriving, Caleb," replied Dot. "I am sure you 
 need only look at the dear child, for one, to know that." 
 
 "And I'm sure I need only look at you for another," 
 said Caleb. 
 
 He didn't look at her, though ; for he had a wander- 
 ing and thoughtful eye which seemed to be always pro- 
 jecting itself into some other time and place, no matter 
 what he said ; a description which will equally apply to 
 his voice. 
 
 " Or at John for another, " said Caleb. " Or at Tilly, 
 as far as that goes. Or certainly at Boxer. " 
 
 "Busy just now, Caleb? " asked the Carrier. 
 
 " Why, pretty well, John, " he returned, with the dis- 
 traught air of a man who was casting about for the Phi- 
 losopher's stone at least. "Pretty much so. There's 
 rather a run on Noah's Arks at present. I could have 
 wished to improve upon the Family, but I don't see how 
 it's to be done at the price. It would be a satisfaction 
 to one's mind to make it clearer which was Shems and 
 Hams, and which was Wives. Flies an't on that scale 
 neither, as compared with elephants, you know. Ah! 
 well ! Have you got anything in the parcel line for me, 
 John!" 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 21 
 
 The Carrier put his hand into a pocket of the coat he 
 had taken off ; and brought out, carefully preserved in 
 moss and paper, a tiny flower -pot. 
 
 "There it is!" he said, adjusting it with great care. 
 "Not so much as a leaf damaged. Full of Buds ! " 
 
 Caleb's dull eye brightened as he took it, and thanked 
 him. 
 
 "Dear, Caleb," said the Carrier. "Yerydear at this 
 season." 
 
 "Never mind that. It would be cheap to me, what- 
 ever it cost," returned the little man. "Anything else, 
 John?" 
 
 " A small box, " replied the Carrier. " Here you are ! " 
 
 " ' For Caleb Plummer, I " said the little man, spelling 
 out the direction. "< With Cash.' With Cash, John! 
 I don't think it's for me." 
 
 "With Care," returned the Carrier, looking over his 
 shoulder. "Where do you make out cash? " 
 
 "Oh! To be sure!" said Caleb. "It's all right. 
 With care ! Yes, yes ; that's mine. It might have been 
 with cash, indeed, if my dear Boy in the Golden South 
 Americas had lived, John. You loved him like a son, 
 didn't you? You needn't say you did. I know, of 
 course. ' Caleb Plummer. With care. ' Yes, yes, it's 
 all right. It's a box of dolls' eyes for my daughter's 
 work. I wish it was her own sight in a box, John. " 
 
 "I wish it was, or could be! " cried the Carrier. 
 
 "Thankee," said the little man. "You speak very 
 hearty. To think that she should never see the Dolls; 
 
22 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 and them a-staring at her, so bold, all day long! That's 
 where it cuts. What's the damage, John? " 
 
 "I'll damage you," said John, "if you inquire." 
 
 "Well! it's like you to say so," observed the little 
 man. "It's your kind way. Let me see. I think that's 
 all." 
 
 "I think not," said the Carrier. "Try again." 
 
 "Something for our Governor, eh?" said Caleb, after 
 pondering a little while. "To be sure. That's what I 
 came for ; but my head's so running on them Arks and 
 things! He hasn't been here, has he? " 
 
 "Not he," returned the Carrier. "He's too busy 
 courting. " 
 
 "He's coming round, though," said Caleb; "for he 
 told me to keep on the near side of the road going home, 
 and it was ten to one he'd take me up. I had better go, 
 by-the-by. — You couldn't have the goodness to let me 
 pinch Boxer's tail, Mum, for half a moment, could you ! " 
 
 " Why, Caleb ! what a question ! " 
 
 "Oh, never mind, Mum," said the little man. "He 
 mightn't like it perhaps. There's a small order just 
 come in, for barking dogs ; and I should wish to go as 
 close to Natur' as I could, for sixpence. That's all. 
 Never* mind, Mum." 
 
 It happened opportunely that Boxer, without receiving 
 the proposed stimulus, began to bark with great zeal. 
 But as this implied the approach of some new visitor, 
 Caleb, postponing his study from the life to a more con- 
 venient season, shouldered the round box, and took a 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 23 
 
 hurried leave. He might have spared himself the trou- 
 ble, for he met the visitor upon the threshold. 
 
 "Oh! You are here, are you ? Wait a bit. I'll take 
 you home. John Peerybingle, my service to you. More 
 of my service to your pretty wrfe. Handsomer every 
 lay! Better too, if possible! And younger," mused 
 che speaker, in a low voice; "that's the Devil of it." 
 
 "I should be astonished at your paying compliments, 
 Mr. Tackleton, " said Dot, not with the best grace in the 
 w^orld; "but for your condition." 
 
 " You know all about it, then ! " 
 
 "I have got myself to believe it, somehow," said Dot. 
 
 "After a hard struggle, I suppose? " 
 
 "Very." 
 
 Tackleton, the Toy merchant, pretty generally known 
 is Gruff and Tackleton — for that was the firm, though 
 Grruff had been bought out long ago ; only leaving his 
 name, and as some said his nature, according to its Dic- 
 tionary meaning, in the business — Tackleton, the Toy 
 merchant, was a man whose vocation had been quite 
 misunderstood by his Parents. If they had made him a 
 Money-Lender, or a sharp Attorney, or a Sheriff's Offi- 
 cer, or a Broker, he might have sown his discontented 
 oats in his youth, and after having had the full run of 
 himself in ill-natured transactions, might have turned 
 out amiable, at last, for the sake of a little freshness and 
 uovelty. But, cramped and chafing in the peaceable 
 pursuit of toy -making, he was a domestic Ogre, who had 
 been living on children all his life, and was their im- 
 
24 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 placable enemy. He despised all toys; wouldn't have 
 bought one for the world; delighted, in his malice, in 
 appalling masks; hideous, hairy, red-eyed Jacks in 
 Boxes; Yampire Kites; demoniacal Tumblers who 
 wouldn't lie down, and were perpetually flying forward, 
 to stare infants out of countenance. They were his only 
 relief and safety-valve. He was great in such inven- 
 tions. Anything suggestive of a Pony -nightmare was 
 delicious to him. What he was in toys, he was in all 
 other things. You may easily suppose, therefore, that 
 within the great green cape, which reached down to the 
 calves of his legs, there was buttoned up to the chin an 
 uncommonly pleasant fellow ; and that he was about as 
 choice a spirit and as agreeable a companion as ever 
 stood in a pair of bull-headed looking boots with mahog- 
 any-colored tops. 
 
 Still, Tackleton, the Toy merchant, was going to be 
 married. And to a young wife too ; a beautiful young 
 wife. 
 
 He didn't look much like a Bridegroom, as he stood in 
 the Carrier's kitchen, with a twist in his dry face, and 
 his hat jerked over the bridge of his nose, and his hands 
 stuck down into the bottoms of his pockets, and his 
 whole ill-conditioned self peering out of one little corner 
 of one little eye, like the concentrated essence of any 
 number of ravens. But a Bridegroom he designed to be. 
 
 "In three days' time. Xext Thursday. The last day 
 of the first month in the year. That's my wedding-day, " 
 said Tackleton, rattling his money. 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 25 
 
 "Why, it's our wedding-day too/' exclaimed the Car- 
 rier. 
 
 "Ha, ha!" laughed Tackleton. "Odd! You're just 
 such another couple. Just ! " 
 
 The indignation of Dot at this presumptuous assertion 
 is not to be described. What next? His imagination 
 would compass the possibility of just such another Baby, 
 perhaps. The man was mad. 
 
 "I say! A word with you/' murmured Tackleton, 
 nudging the Carrier with his elbow, and taking him a 
 little apart. "You'll come to the wedding? We're in 
 the same boat, you know. " 
 
 "How in the same boat?" inquired the Car- 
 rier. 
 
 "A little disparity, you know/' said Tackleton, with 
 another nudge. " Come and spend an evening with us, 
 beforehand. " 
 
 "Why? " demanded John, astonished at this pressing 
 hospitality. 
 
 "Why?" returned the other. "That's a new way of 
 receiving an invitation. Why, for pleasure ; sociability, 
 you know, and all that ! " 
 
 "I thought you were never sociable," said John, in his 
 plain way. 
 
 "Tchah! It's of no use to be anything but free with 
 you, I see," said Tackleton. "Why, then, the truth is 
 you have a — what tea -drinking people call a sort of a 
 comfortable appearance together; you and your wife. 
 We know better, you know, but " 
 
26 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 "No, we don't know better," interposed John- 
 "What are you talking about? " 
 
 "Well! We don't know better, then," said Tackle- 
 ton. "We'll agree that we don't. As you like; what 
 does it matter ! I was going to say, as you have that 
 sort of appearance, your company will produce a favor- 
 able effect on Mrs. Tackleton that will be. You'll say 
 you'll come? " 
 
 "We have arranged to keep our wedding-day at 
 home, " said John. " We have made the promise to our- 
 selves these six months. We think, you see, that 
 home " 
 
 "Bah! what's home?" cried Tackleton. "Four walls 
 and a ceiling! (why don't you kill that Cricket? 1 
 would! I always do. I hate their noise). There are 
 four walls and a ceiling at my house. Come to me ! " 
 
 "You kill your Crickets, eh? " said John. 
 
 "Scrunch 'em, sir," returned the other, setting his 
 heel heavily on the floor. "You'll say you'll come? 
 It's as much your interest as mine, you know, that the 
 women should persuade each other that they're quiet and 
 contented, and couldn't be better off. I know their 
 way. Whatever one woman says, another woman is de- 
 termined to clinch, always. There's that spirit of emu- 
 lation among 'em, sir, that if your wife says to my wife, 
 1 I'm the happiest woman in the world, and mine's the 
 best husband in the world, and I dote on him, ' my wife 
 will say the same to yours, or more, and half believe 
 it." 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 27 
 
 "Do you mean to say she don't, then?" asked the 
 Carrier. 
 
 "Don't! " cried Tackleton, with a short, sharp laugh. 
 "Don't what?" 
 
 The Carrier had had some faint idea of adding, " dote 
 upon you. " But happening to meet the half -closed eye, 
 as it twinkled upon him over the turned-up collar of the 
 cape, which was within an ace of poking it out, he felt 
 it such an unlikely part and parcel of anything to be 
 doted on, that he substituted, "that she don't believe 
 it?" 
 
 "Ah, you dog! you're joking," said Tackleton. But 
 the Carrier, though slow to understand the full drift of 
 his meaning, eyed him in such a serious manner, that he 
 was obliged to be a little more explanatory. 
 
 " I have the humor, " said Tackleton, holding up the 
 fingers of his left hand, and tapping the forefinger, to 
 imply, "there I am, Tackleton to wit:" "I have the 
 humor, Sir, to marry a young wife and a pretty wife : " 
 here he rapped his little finger, to express the Bride; 
 not sparingly, but sharply ; with a sense of power. " I'm 
 able to gratify that humor, and I do. It's my whim. 
 But — now look there. " 
 
 He pointed to where Dot was sitting, thoughtfully, 
 before the fire ; leaning her dimpled chin upon her hand, 
 and watching the bright blaze. The Carrier looked at 
 her, and then at him. 
 
 " She honors and obeys, no doubt, you know, " said 
 Tackleton ; " and that, as I am not a man of sentiment, 
 
28 THE CRICKET OlS THE HEARTH. 
 
 is quite enough for r.ie. But do you think there's any- 
 thing more in it ? " 
 
 "I think," observed the Carrier, "that I should chuck 
 any man out of the window who said there wasn't." 
 
 "Exactly so," returned the other, with an unusual 
 alacrity of assent. "To be sure! Doubtless you would. 
 Of course. I'm certain of it. Good-night. Pleasant 
 dreams ! " 
 
 The good Carrier was puzzled, and made uncomfort- 
 able and uncertain, in spite of himself. He couldn't 
 help showing it in his manner. 
 
 "Good-night, my dear friend ! " said Tackleton, com- 
 passionately. "I'm off. We're exactly alike, in real- 
 ity, I see. You won't give us to-morrow evening! 
 Well ! Next day you go out visiting, I know. I'll meet 
 you there, and bring my wife that is to be. It'll do her 
 good. You're agreeable? Thankee. What's that?" 
 
 It was a loud cry from the Carrier's wife; a loud, 
 sharp, sudden cry, that made the room ring like a glass 
 vessel. She had risen from her seat, and stood like one 
 transfixed by terror and surprise. The Stranger had 
 advanced toward the fire, to warm himself, and stood 
 within a short stride of her chair. But quite still. 
 
 "Dot! " cried the Carrier. "Mary! Darling! what's 
 the matter ? Are you ill ? what is it ? Tell me, dear ! " 
 
 She only answered by beating her hands together, and 
 falling into a wild fit of laughter. Then, sinking from 
 his grasp upon the ground, she covered her face with 
 her apron, and wept bitterly. And then, she laughed 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 29 
 
 again; and then, she cried again; and then, she said how 
 cold it was, and suffered him to lead her to the fire, 
 where she sat down as before. The old man standing, as 
 before ; quite still. 
 
30 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 "I'm better, John," she said. "I'm quite well now 
 —I » 
 
 John ! But John was on the other side of her. Why 
 turn her face toward the strange old gentleman, as if 
 addressing him ! Was her brain wandering ! 
 
 "Only a fancy, John, dear, a kind of shock — a some- 
 thing coming suddenly before my eyes — I don't know 
 what it was. It's quite gone; quite gone." 
 
 "I'm glad it's gone," muttered Tackleton, turning the 
 expressive eye all round the room. "I wonder where 
 it's gone, and what it was. Humph! Caleb, come 
 here ! Who's that with the gray hair? " 
 
 "I don't know, Sir," returned Caleb in a whisper. 
 "Never see him before, in all my life. A beautiful 
 figure for a nut- cracker ; quite a new model. With a 
 screw- jaw opening down into his waistcoat, he'd be 
 lovely. " 
 
 "Not ugly enough," said Tackleton. 
 
 "Or for a firebox, either," observed Caleb, in deep 
 contemplation, "what a model! Unscrew his head to 
 put the matches in; turn him heels up'ard for the light; 
 and what a firebox for a gentleman's mantle-shelf, just 
 as he stands ! " 
 
 "Not half ugly enough," said Tackleton. "Nothing 
 in him at all. Come ! Bring that box ! All right now, 
 I hope?" 
 
 " Oh, quite gone ! Quite gone ! " said the little woman, 
 waving him hurriedly away. "Good-night! " 
 
 "Good-night," said Tackleton. "Good-night, John 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 31 
 
 Peerybingle ! Take care how you carry that box, Caleb. 
 Let it fall, and I'll murder you! Dark as pitch, and 
 weather worse than ever, eh? Good- night! " 
 
 So, with another sharp look round the room, he went 
 out at the door ; followed by Caleb with the wedding- 
 cake on his head. 
 
 The Carrier had been so much astounded by his little 
 wife, and so busily engaged in soothing and tending her, 
 that he had scarcely been conscious of the Stranger's 
 presence, until now, when he again stood there, their 
 only guest. 
 
 a He don't belong to them, you see," said John. "I 
 must give him a hint to go. " 
 
 "I beg your pardon, friend," said the old gentleman, 
 advancing to him; "the more so, as I fear your wife has 
 not been well ; but the AttendaDt whom my infirmity, " 
 he touched his ears and shook his head, "renders almost 
 indispensable, not having arrived, I fear there must be 
 some mistake. Would you, in your kindness, suffer me 
 to rent a bed here % " 
 
 " Yes, yes, " cried Dot. " Yes ! Certainly ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " said the Carrier, surprised by the rapidity of 
 this consent. "Well! I don't object ; but still I'm not 
 quite sure that — — " 
 
 " Hush ! n she interrupted. " Dear John ! " 
 
 "Why, he's stone deaf," urged John. 
 
 "I know he is, but — Yes, Sir, certainly. Yes! cer- 
 tainly! I'll make him up a bed, directly, John." 
 
 As she hurried off to do it, the flutter of her spirits, 
 
32 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 and the agitation of her manner, were so strange, that 
 the Carrier stood lookiog after her, quite confounded. 
 "What frightened Dot, I wonder! " mused the Carrier, 
 pacing to and fro. 
 
 He scouted, from his heart, the insinuations of the 
 Toy merchant, and yet they filled him with a vague, 
 indefinite uneasiness ; for Tackleton was quick and sly ; 
 and he had that painful sense, himself, of being a man of 
 slow perception, that a broken hint was always worrying 
 to him. He certainly had no intention in his mind of 
 linking anything that Tackleton had said, with the un- 
 usual conduct of his wife ; but the two subjects of reflec- 
 tion came into his mind together, and he could not keep 
 them asunder. 
 
 The bed was soon made ready ; and the visitor, declin- 
 ing all refreshment but a cup of tea, retired. Then Dot, 
 quite well again, she said, arranged the great chair in 
 the chimney corner for her husband ; filled his pipe and 
 gave it him ; and took her usual little stool beside him 
 on the hearth. 
 
 She always would sit on that little stool ; I think she 
 must have had a kind of notion that it was a coaxing, 
 wheedling, little stool. 
 
 She was, out and out, the very best filler of a pipe, I 
 should say, in the four quarters of the globe. To see 
 her put that chubby little finger in the bowl, and then 
 blow down the pipe to clear the tube ; and when she had 
 done so, affect to think that there was really something 
 in the tube ; and blow a dozen times, and hold it to her 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 33 
 
 eye like a telescope, with a most provoking twist in her 
 little face, as she looked down it ; was quite a brilliant 
 thing. As to the tobacco, she was perfect mistress of 
 the subject ; and her lighting of the pipe, with a wisp of 
 paper, when the Carrier had it in his mouth — going so 
 very near his nose, and yet not scorching it — was Art : 
 high Art, Sir. 
 
 And the Cricket and the Kettle, tuning up again, 
 acknowledged it! The bright fire, blazing up again, 
 acknowledged it ! The little Mower on the clock, in his 
 unheeded work, acknowledged it! The Carrier, in his 
 smoothing forehead and expanding face, acknowledged 
 it, the readiest of ail. 
 
 And as he soberly and thoughtfully puffed at his old 
 pipe ; and as the Dutch clock ticked ; and as the red fire 
 gleamed ; and as the Cricket chirped ; that Genius of his 
 Hearth and Home (for such the Cricket was) came out, 
 in fairy shape, into the room and summoned many forms 
 of Home about him. Dots of all ages, and all sizes, 
 filled the chamber. Dots who were merry children, 
 running on before him, gathering flowers, in the fields ; 
 coy Dots, half shrinking from, half yielding to, the 
 pleading of his own rough image ; newly-married Dots 
 alighting at the door, and taking wondering possession 
 of the household keys ; motherly little Dots, attended by 
 fictitious Slowboys, bearing babies to be christened; 
 matronly Dots, still young and blooming, watching Dots 
 of daughters, as they danced at rustic balls ; fat Dots, 
 encircled and beset by troops of rosy grandchildren; 
 
B4 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 withered Dots, who leaned on sticks, and tottered as the\ 
 crept along. Old Carriers, too, appeared, with blind 
 old Boxers lying at their feet ; and newer carts with 
 younger drivers ("Peerybingle Brothers" on the tilt); 
 and sick old Carriers, tended by the gentlest hands; 
 and graves of dead and gone old Carriers, green in the 
 churchyard. And as the Cricket showed him all these 
 things — he saw them plainly, though his eyes were fixed 
 upon the fire — the Carrier's heart grew light and happy, 
 and he thanked his Household Gods with all his might, 
 and cared no more for Gruff and Tackleton than you do. 
 
 CHIEP THE SECOND. 
 
 Caleb Plummer and his Blind Daughter lived all 
 alone by themselves, as the Story-Books say, in a little 
 cracked nutshell of a wooden house. You might have 
 knocked down Caleb Plummer 's dwelling with a hammer 
 or two, and carried off the pieces in a cart ; and if any 
 one had done the house the honor to miss it after such 
 an inroad, it would have been, no doubt, to commend its 
 demolition as a vast improvement. It stuck to the prem- 
 ises of Gruff and Tackleton, like a barnacle to a ship's 
 keel, or a little bunch of toadstools to the stem of a tree. 
 But it was the germ from which the full-grown trunk of 
 Gruff and Tackleton had sprung. 
 
 I have said that Caleb and his poor Blind Daughter 
 lived here ; but I should have said that Caleb lived here, 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 35 
 
 and his poor Blind Daughter somewhere else ; in an en- 
 chanted home of Caleb's furnishing, where scarcity and 
 shabbiness were not and trouble never entered. Caleb 
 
 was no Sorcerer, but in the only magic art that still 
 remains to us: the magic of devoted, deathless love: 
 Nature had been the mistress of his study; and from her 
 teaching, all the wonder came. 
 
36 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 The Blind Girl never knew that ceilings were discol- 
 ored ; walls blotched, and bare of plaster here and there ; 
 high crevices unstopped, and widening every day ; beams 
 mouldering and tending downward. The Blind Girl 
 never knew that ugly shapes of delf and earthenware 
 were on the board j that Caleb's scanty hairs were turn- 
 ing grayer and more gray before her sightless face. The 
 Blind Girl never knew they had a master, cold, exacting, 
 and uninterested : never knew that Tackleton was Tack- 
 leton, in short ; but lived in the belief of an eccentric 
 humorist who loved to have his jest with them; and 
 while he was the Guardian Angel of their lives, disdained 
 to hear one word of thankfulness. 
 
 And all was Caleb's doing. But he too had a Cricket 
 on his Hearth ; and listening sadly to its music when the 
 motherless Blind Child was very young, that Spirit had 
 inspired him with the thought that even her great de- 
 privation might be almost changed into a blessing, and 
 the girl made happy by these little means. For all the 
 Cricket Tribe are potent Spirits, even though the people 
 who hold converse with them do not know it. 
 
 Caleb and his daughter were at work together in their 
 usual working-room, which served them for their ordi- 
 nary living room as well ; and a strange place it was. 
 There were houses in it, finished and unfinished, for 
 Dolls of all stations in life. Suburban tenements for 
 Dolls of moderate means; kitchens and single apart- 
 ments for Dolls of the lower classes ; capital town resi- 
 dence for Dolls of high estate. Some of these establish- 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 37 
 
 merits were already furnished according to estimate, with 
 a view to the convenience of Dolls, of limited income ; 
 others could be fitted on the most expensive scale, at a 
 moment's notice, from whole shelves of chairs and 
 tables, sofas, bedsteads, and upholstery. The nobility 
 and gentry and public in general, for whose accommo- 
 dation these tenements were designed, lay here and there, 
 in baskets, staring straight up at the ceiling; but in 
 denoting their degrees in society, and confining them to 
 their respective stations, the makers of these Dolls had 
 far improved on Nature, who is often froward and per- 
 verse; for they, not resting on such arbitrary marks 
 as satin, cotton-print, and bits of rag, had superadded 
 striking personal differences which allowed of no mis- 
 take. Thus, the Doll-lady of Distinction had wax limbs 
 of perfect symmetry, the next grade in the social scale 
 being made of leather and the next of coarse linen stuff. 
 As to the common-people, they have just so many 
 matches out of tinder-boxes for their arms and legs, and 
 there they were — established in their sphere at once, be- 
 yond the possibility of getting out of it. 
 
 There were various other samples of his handicraft, 
 besides Dolls, in Caleb Plummer's room. There were 
 Noah's Arks, in which the Birds and Beasts were an 
 uncommonly tight fit, I assure you ; though they could 
 be crammed in, anyhow, at the roof, and rattled and 
 shaken into the smallest compass. There were many 
 small fiddles, drums, and other instruments of torture; 
 no end of cannon, shields, swords, spears, and guns. 
 
38 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 There were little tumblers in red breeches, incessantly 
 swarming up high obstacles of red-tape, and coming 
 down head-first upon the other side ; and there were in- 
 numerable old gentlemen of respectable appearance, in- 
 sanely flying over horizontal pegs, inserted for the pur- 
 pose, in their own street doors. There were beasts of 
 all sorts ; horses, in particular, of every breed. 
 
 In the midst of all these objects, Caleb and his daugh- 
 ter sat at work. The Blind Girl busy as a Doll's dress- 
 maker ; and Caleb painting and glazing the front of a 
 desirable family mansion. The care imprinted in the 
 lines of Caleb's face, and his absorbed and dreamy man- 
 ner, which would have sat well on some alchemist or 
 abstruse student, were at first sight an odd contrast to 
 his occupation, and the trivialities about him. 
 
 "So you were out in the rain, last night, father, in 
 your beautiful new great-coat/' said Caleb's daughter. 
 
 "In my beautiful new great-coat," answered Caleb, 
 glancing toward a clothes-line in the room, on which the 
 sack- cloth garment previously described was carefully 
 hung up to dry. 
 
 "How glad I am you bought it, father! " 
 
 "And of such a tailor, too," said Caleb. "Quite a 
 fashionable tailor. It's too good for me." 
 
 The Blind Girl rested from her work, and laughed 
 with delight. "Too good, father! What can be too 
 good for you ? " 
 
 "I'm half ashamed to wear it, though," said Caleb, 
 watching the effect of what he said upon her brightening 
 
Caleb Plummee and his Daughter. Page 46. 
 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEART!*. 39 
 
 face; "upon my word. When I hear the boys and peo- 
 ple say behind me, ' Hal -loa ! Here's a swell! ' I don't 
 know which way to look. And when the beggar wouldn't 
 go away last night ; and, when I said I was a very com- 
 mon man, said ' No, your Honor ! Bless your Honor, 
 don't say that ! ' I was quite ashamed. I really felt as 
 if I hadn't a right to wear it." 
 
 Happy Blind Girl ! How merry she was in her ex- 
 ultation ! 
 
 " I see you, father, " she said, clasping her hands, " as 
 plainly as if I had the eyes I never want when you are 
 with me. A blue coat n 
 
 "Bright blue," said Caleb. 
 
 "Yes, yes! Bright blue! " exclaimed the girl, turning 
 up her radiant face; "the color I can just remember in 
 the blessed sky ! You told me it was blue before ! A 
 bright blue coat " 
 
 "Made loose to the figure," suggested Caleb. 
 
 "Yes! loose to the figure!" cried the Blind Girl, 
 laughing heartily; "and in it you, dear father, with 
 your merry eye, your smiling face, your free step, and 
 your dark hair : looking so young and handsome ! " 
 
 "Halloa! Halloa!" said Caleb. "I shall be vain, 
 presently." 
 
 "J think you are, already," cried the Blind Girl, 
 pointing at him in her glee. " I know you, father ! Ha, 
 ha, ha! I've found you out, you see! " 
 
 How different the picture in her mind, from Caleb, as 
 he sat observing her ! She had spoken of his free step. 
 
40 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 She was right in that. For years and years, he never 
 once had crossed that threshold at his own slow pace, 
 but with a footfall connterf eited for her ear ; and never 
 had he, when his heart was heaviest, forgotten the light 
 tread that was to render hers so cheerful and coura- 
 geous! 
 
 " There we are, " said Caleb, falling back a pace or two 
 to form the better judgment of his work; "as near the 
 real thing as sixpenn'orth of halfpence is to sixpence. 
 What a pity that the whole front of the house opens at 
 once ! If there was only a staircase in it now, and regu- 
 lar doors to the rooms to go in it ! But that's the worst 
 of my calling, I'm always deluding myself, and swindling 
 myself. " 
 
 "You are speaking quite softly. You are not tired, 
 father?" 
 
 "Tired," echoed Caleb, with a great burst of anima- 
 tion, "what should tire me, Bertha? J was never tired. 
 What does it mean ? " 
 
 To give the greater force to his words, he hummed 
 a fragment of a song, something about a Sparkling 
 Bowl. 
 
 "What! you're singing, are you?" said Tackleton, 
 putting his head in at the door. "Go it! J can't sing. 
 I can't afford to sing. I'm glad you can. I hope you 
 can afford to work too. Hardly time for both, I should 
 think?" 
 
 "If you could only see him, Bertha, how he's winking 
 at me! " whispered Caleb. "Such a man to joke! you'd 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 41 
 
 think if you didn't know him, he was in earnest— 
 wouldn't you now ? " 
 
 The Blind Girl smiled, and nodded. " Always merry 
 and light-hearted with us ! " cried she. 
 
 "Oh! you're there, are you?" answered Tackle- 
 ton. "Poor Idiot! Well! and being there — how are 
 you?" 
 
 "Oh! well; quite well. And as happy as even you 
 can wish me to be. As happy as you would make the 
 whole world if you could ! " 
 
 "Poor Idiot!" muttered Tackleton. "No gleam of 
 reason. Not a gleam ! " 
 
 The Blind Girl took his hand and kissed it. There 
 was such unspeakable affection and such fervent grati- 
 tude in the act, that Tackleton himself was moved to 
 say, in a milder growl than usual : 
 
 "What's the matter now? " 
 
 " I stood it close beside my pillow when I went to sleep 
 last night, and remembered it in my dreams. And 
 when the day broke, and the glorious red sun —the red 
 sun, father?" 
 
 "Bed in the mornings and the evenings, Bertha," said 
 poor Caleb, with a woeful glance at his employer. 
 
 "When it rose, and the bright light I almost fear to 
 strike myself against in walking, came into the room, I 
 turned the little tree toward it, and blessed Heaven for 
 making things so precious, and blessed you for sending 
 them to cheer me ! " 
 
 "Bedlam broke loose!" said Tackleton under his 
 
42 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 breath. "We shall arrive at the strait-waistcoat and 
 mufflers soon. We're getting on! " 
 
 Caleb, with his hands hooked loosely in each other, 
 stared vacantly before him while his daughter spoke, as 
 if he really were uncertain whether Tackleton had donf 
 anything to deserve her thanks, or not. Yet Caleb knew 
 that with his own hands he had brought the little rose 
 tree home for her, so carefully ; and that with his own 
 lips he had forged the innocent deception which should 
 help to keep her from suspecting how much, how very 
 much, he every day denied himself that she might be 
 the happier. 
 
 "Bertha!" said Tackleton, assuming, for the nonce, 
 a little cordiality. "Come here. Shall I tell you a 
 secret, Bertha?" 
 
 " If you will ! " she answered, eagerly. 
 
 How bright the darkened face! How adorned with 
 light, the listening head ! 
 
 "This is the day on which little what's-her-name, the 
 spoilt child, Peerybingle's wife, pays her regular visit 
 to you — makes her fantastic Pic-Nic here; an't it?" 
 said Tackleton, with a strong expression of distaste for 
 the whole concern. 
 
 " Yes, " replied Bertha. " This is the day. " 
 
 " I thought so ! " said Tackleton. " I should like to 
 join the party." 
 
 "Do you hear that, father?" cried the Blind Giri in 
 an ecstasy. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I hear it, * murmured Caleb, with the fixed 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 43 
 
 look of a sleep-walker; "but I don't believe it. It's 
 one of my lies, I've no doubt." 
 
 "You see I — I want to bring the Peerybingles a little 
 more into company with May Fielding, " said Tackleton. 
 " I am going to get married to May. " 
 
 "Married?" cried the Blind Girl, starting from 
 him. 
 
 "She's such a con-founded idiot/' muttered Tackleton, 
 "that I was afraid she'd never comprehend me. Ah, 
 Bertha ! Married ! Church, parson, clerk, beadle, glass- 
 coach, bells, breakfast, bride-cake, favors, marrow- 
 bones, cleavers, and all the rest of the tom-foolery. A 
 wedding you know ; a wedding. Don't you know what 
 a wedding is ! " 
 
 "I know," replied the Blind Girl, in a gentle tone. 
 " I understand ! " 
 
 "Do you V muttered Tackleton. "It's more than I 
 expected. Well! on that account I want to join the 
 party, and to bring May and her mother. I'll send in a 
 little something or other, before the afternoon. A cold 
 leg of mutton, or some comfortable trifle of that sort. 
 You'll expect me? " 
 
 "Yes," she answered. 
 
 She had drooped her head, and turned away ; and so 
 stood, with her hands crossed, musing. 
 
 "I don't think you will," muttered Tackleton, looking 
 at her; "for you seem to have forgotten all about it 
 already. Caleb! Take care she don't forget what I've 
 been saying to her." 
 
44 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 "She never forgets," returned Caleb. "It's one of the 
 few things she an't clever in." 
 
 "Every man thinks his own geese, swans," observed 
 the Toy merchant, with a shrug. "Poor devil! " 
 
 Having delivered himself of which remark, with infi- 
 nite contempt, old Gruff and Tackleton withdrew. 
 
 Bertha remained where he had left her, lost in medi- 
 tation. The gayety had vanished from her downcast 
 face, and it was very sad. Three or four times she shook 
 her head, as if bewailing some remembrance or some loss ; 
 but her sorrowful reflections found no vent in words. 
 
 It was not until Caleb had been occupied, some time, 
 in yoking a team of horses to a wagon by the summary 
 process of nailing the harness to the vital parts of their 
 bodies, that she drew near to his working-stool, and 
 sitting down beside him said : 
 
 " Father, I am lonely in the dark. I want my eyes : 
 my patient, willing eyes." 
 
 "Here they are," said Caleb. "Always ready. They 
 are more yours than mine, Bertha, any hour in the four- 
 and-twenty. What shall your eyes do for you, dear ! " 
 
 "Look round the room, father." 
 
 "All right," said Caleb. "No sooner said than done, 
 Bertha." 
 
 "Tell me about it," 
 
 " It's much the same as usual, " said Caleb. " Homely, 
 but very snug. The gay colors on the walls ; the bright 
 flowers on the plates and dishes; the shining wood, 
 where there are beams or panels ; the general cheerful- 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 45 
 
 ness and neatness of the building; make it very 
 pretty." 
 
 Cheerful and neat it was, wherever Bertha's hands 
 could busy themselves. But nowhere else were cheer- 
 fulness and neatness possible, in the old crazy shed which 
 Caleb's fancy so transformed. 
 
 "Father," said the Blind Girl, drawing close to his 
 side, and stealing one arm round his neck, "tell me 
 something about May. She is very fair? " 
 
 "She is indeed," said Caleb. And she was indeed. 
 It was quite a rare thing to Caleb, not to have to draw 
 on his invention. 
 
 "Her hair is dark," said Bertha, pensively, "darker 
 than mine. Her voice is sweet and musical, I know. I 
 have often loved to hear it. Her shape — *— " 
 
 "There's not a Doll's in all the room to equal it," said 
 Caleb. 
 
 "And her eyes! " 
 
 He stopped ; for Bertha had drawn closer round his 
 neck 5 and, from the arm that clung about him came a 
 warning pressure which he understood too well. 
 
 He coughed a moment, hammered for a moment, and 
 then fell back upon the song about the Sparkling Bowl ; 
 his infallible resource in all such difficulties. 
 
 "Our friend, father; our benefactor. I am never 
 tired, you know, of hearing about him. — Now was I, 
 ever ! " she said, hastily. 
 
 "Of course not," answered Caleb. "And with rea- 
 son." 
 
4P> THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 "Then, tell me again about him, dear father," said 
 Bertha. "Many times again! His face is benevolent, 
 kind, and tender. Honest and true, I am sure it is. 
 The manly heart that tries to cloak all favors with a 
 show of roughness and unwillingness, beats in its every 
 look and glance." 
 
 " And makes it noble," added Caleb in his quiet des- 
 peration. 
 
 " And makes it noble," cried the Blind Girl. "He is 
 older than May, father. " 
 
 " Ye-es," said Caleb, reluctantly. "He's a little older 
 than May. But that don't signify." 
 
 "Oh father, yes! To be his patient companion in in- 
 firmity and age ; to be his gentle nurse in sickness, and 
 his constant friend in suffering and sorrow; to watch 
 him, tend him ; sit beside his bed ; what privileges these 
 would be! Would she do all this, dear father? " 
 
 "No doubt of it," said Caleb. 
 
 "Hove her, father; I can love her from my soul!" 
 exclaimed the Blind Girl. And saying so, she laid her 
 poor blind face on Caleb's shoulder, and so wept and 
 wept, that he was almost sorry to have brought that 
 tearful happiness upon her. 
 
 In the mean time, there had been a pretty sharp com- 
 motion at John Peerybingle's; for little Mrs. Peery- 
 bingle naturally couldn't think of going anywhere with- 
 out the Baby ; and to get the Baby under weigh, took 
 time. Not that there was much of the Baby, but there 
 was a vast deal to do about and about it, and it all had 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 47 
 
 to be done by easy stages. For instance : when the Baby 
 was got, by hook and by crook, to a certain point of 
 dressing, and you might have rationally supposed that 
 another touch or two would finish him off, and turn 
 him out a tip -top Baby, challenging the world, he was 
 unexpectedly extinguished in a flannel cap, and hustled 
 off to bed ; where he simmered between two blankets for 
 the best part of an hour. Mrs. Peerybingle took advan- 
 tage of this interval, to make herself as smart in a small 
 way as ever you saw anybody in all your life. The 
 Baby, being all alive again, was invested, by the united 
 efforts of Mrs. Peerybingle and Miss Slowboy, with a 
 cream -colored mantle for its body, and a sort of nankeen 
 raised-pie for its head ; and so in course of time they all 
 three got down to the door, where the old horse had al- 
 ready taken more than the full value of his day's toll 
 out of the Turnpike Trust, by tearing up the road with 
 his impatient autographs — and whence Boxer might 
 be dimly seen in the remote perspective, standing 
 looking back, and tempting him to come on without 
 orders. 
 
 As to a chair, or anything of that kind for helping 
 Mrs. Peerybingle into the cart, you know very little of 
 John, I flatter myself, if you think that was necessary. 
 Before you could have seen him lift her from the ground, 
 there she was in her place, fresh and rosy, saying "John! 
 How can you ! Think of Tilly ! " 
 
 "John? You've got the basket with the Yeal and 
 Ham-Pie and things ; and the bottles of Beer ? " said Dot, 
 
48 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 "If you haven't, you must turn round again, this very 
 minute. " 
 
 " You're a nice little article," returned the Carrier, 
 "to be talking about turning round, after keeping me a 
 full quarter of an hour behind my time. " 
 
 "I am sorry for it, John," said Dot in a great bustle, 
 "but I really could not think of going to Bertha's — I 
 wouldn't do it, John, on any account — without the Veal 
 and Ham-Pie and things, and the bottles of Beer. 
 Way ! " 
 
 This monosyllable was addressed to the Horse, who 
 didn't mind it at all. 
 
 "Oh do Way, John!" said Mrs. Peerybingle. 
 "Please!" 
 
 "It'll be time enough to do that," returned John, 
 "when I begin to leave things behind me. The basket's 
 here, safe enough." 
 
 "What a hard-hearted monster you must be, John, 
 not to have said so, at once, and saved me such a turn ! 
 I declare I wouldn't go to Bertha's without the Yeal and 
 Ham -Pie and things, and the bottles of Beer, for any 
 money. Begularly once a fortnight ever since we have 
 been married, John, have we made our little Pic-Mc 
 there. If anything was to go wrong with it, I should 
 almost think we were never to be lucky again." 
 
 "It was a kind thought in the first instance," said the 
 Carrier; "and I honor you for it, little woman." 
 
 "My dear John!" replied Dot, turning very red. 
 "Don't talk about honoring me. Good Gracious! " 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 49 
 
 "By -the -bye — " observed the Carrier. "That old 
 gentleman, " 
 
 Again so visibly, and instantly embarrassed. 
 
 "He's an odd fish," said the Carrier, looking straight 
 along the road before them. "I can't make him out. I 
 don't believe there's any harm in him." 
 
 "None at all. I'm — I'm sure there's none at all." 
 
 "Yes?" said the Carrier, with his eyes attracted to 
 her face by the great earnestness of her manner. " I am 
 glad you feel so certain of it, because it's a confirmation 
 to me. It's curious that he should have taken it into 
 his head to ask leave to go on lodging with us ; an't it ! 
 Things come about so strangely." 
 
 "So very strangely," she rejoined in a low voice: 
 scarcely audible. 
 
 "However, he's a good-natured old gentleman," said 
 John, "and pays as a gentleman, and I think his word 
 is to be relied upon, like a gentleman's. I had quite a 
 long talk with him this morning : he can hear me better 
 already, he says, as he gets more used to my voice. He 
 told me a great deal about himself, and I told him a 
 good deal about myself, and a rare lot of questions he 
 asked me. I gave him information about my having 
 two beats, you know, in my business; one day to the 
 right from our house and back again ; another day to 
 the left from our house and back again (for he's a 
 stranger and don't know the names of places about 
 here); and he seemed quite pleased. 'Why, then I 
 shall be returning home to-night your way, ' he says, 
 
50 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 ' when I thought you'd be coming in an exactly opposite 
 direction. That's capital. I may trouble you for an- 
 other lift, perhaps, but I'll engage not to fall so sound 
 asleep again.' He was sound asleep, sure-ly! — Dot! 
 what are you thinking of! " 
 
 u Thinking of, John % I — I was listening to you. " 
 
 " Oh ! That's all right ! " said the honest Carrier. " I 
 was afraid, from the look of your face, that I had gone 
 rambling on so long, as to set you thinking about some- 
 thing else. I was very near it, I'll be bound." 
 
 Dot making no reply, they jogged on, for some little 
 time in silence. But it was not easy to remain silent 
 very long in John Peerybiugle's cart, for everybody on 
 the road had something to say ; and though it might only 
 be " How are you ! n and indeed it was very often noth- 
 ing else, still, to give that back again in the right spirit 
 of cordiality, required, not merely a nod and a smile, 
 but as wholesome an action of the lungs withal as a long- 
 winded Parliamentary speech. Sometimes passengers 
 on foot, or horseback, plodded on a little way beside the 
 cart, for the express purpose of having a chat ; and then 
 there was a great deal to be said, on both sides. 
 
 Then, Boxer gave occasion to more good-natured rec- 
 ognitions of and by the Carrier, than half a dozen Chris- 
 tians could have done ! Wherever he went, somebody or 
 other might have been heard to cry, "Halloa! Here's 
 Boxer!" And out came that somebody forthwith, ac- 
 companied by at least two or three other somebodies, to 
 give John Peerybingle and his pretty wife, Good Day 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 51 
 
 The packages and parcels for the errand-cart were 
 numerous ; and there were many stoppages to take them 
 in and give them out ; which were not by any means the 
 worst parts of the journey. Likewise, there were articles 
 to carry, which required to be considered and discussed, 
 and in reference to the adjustment and disposition of 
 which, councils had to be holden by the Carrier and the 
 senders : at which Boxer usually assisted, in short fits of 
 the closest attention, and long fits of tearing round and 
 round the assembled sages and barking himself hoarse. 
 Of all these little incidents, Dot was the amused and 
 open-eyed spectatress from her chair in the cart ; and as 
 she sat there, looking on : there was no lack of nudgings 
 and glancings and whisperings and envyings among the 
 younger men, I promise you. And this delighted John 
 the Carrier, beyond measure ; for he was proud to have 
 his little wife admired ; knowing that she didn't mind it 
 — that, if anything, she rather liked it perhaps. 
 
 The trip was a little foggy, to be sure, in the January 
 weather; and was raw and cold. But who cared for 
 such trifles? Not Dot, decidedly. Not Tilly Slowboy, 
 for she deemed sitting in a cart, on any terms, to be the 
 highest point of human joys; the crowning circumstance 
 of earthly hopes. Not the Baby, I'll be sworn ; for it's 
 not in Baby nature to be warmer or more sound asleep, 
 though its capacity is great in both respects, than that 
 blessed young Peerybingle was, all the way. 
 
 You couldn't see very far in the fog, of course ; but 
 you could see a great deal. It's astonishing how much 
 
52 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 you may see, in a thicker fog than that, if you will only 
 take the trouble to look for it. Why, even to sit watch- 
 ing for the Fairy-rings in the fields, and for the patches 
 of hoar-frost still lingering in the shade, near hedges and 
 by trees, was a pleasant occupation : to make no mention 
 of the unexpected shapes in which the trees themselves 
 came starting out of the mist, and glided into it again. 
 
 In one place, there was a great mound of weeds or 
 stubble burning; and they watched the fire, flaring 
 through the fog, with only here and there a dash of red 
 in it, until, in consequence as she observed of the smoke 
 "getting up her nose," Miss Slowboy choked and woke 
 the Baby, who wouldn't go to sleep again. But Boxer, 
 who was in advance some quarter of a mile or so, had 
 already passed the outposts of the town, and gained the 
 corner of the street where Caleb and his daughter lived ; 
 and long before they reached the door, he and the Blind 
 Girl were on the pavement waiting to receive them. 
 
 Boxer, by the way, made certain delicate distinctions 
 of his own, in his communication with Bertha, whieh 
 persuades me fully that he knew her to be blind. He 
 never sought to attract her attention by looking at her, 
 as he often did with other people, but touched her in- 
 variably. Therefore he had hold of Bertha, by the 
 skirt, and kept hold, until Mrs. Peerybingle and the 
 Baby, and Miss Slowboy, and the basket, were all got 
 safely within doors. 
 
 May Fielding was already come; and so was her 
 mother — a little querulous chip of an old lady with a 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 53 
 
 peevish face, who, in right of having preserved a waist 
 like a bedpost, was supposed to he a most transcendent 
 figure; and who, in consequence of having once been 
 better oif, was very genteel and patronizing indeed 
 
54 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 Gruff and Tackleton was also there, doing the agreeable ; 
 with the evident sensation of being as perfectly at home 
 as a fresh young salmon on the top of the Great Pyra- 
 mid. 
 
 "May! My dear old friend!" cried Dot, running up 
 to meet her. " What a happiness to see you! n 
 
 Her old friend was, to the full, as hearty and as glad 
 as she ; and it really was a pleasant sight to see them 
 embrace. Tackleton was a man of taste, beyond all 
 questiou. May was very pretty. 
 
 Tackleton had brought his leg of mutton, and, won- 
 derful to relate, a tart besides, and in addition to these 
 dainties, there were the Veal and Ham-Pie, and " things, " 
 as Mrs. Peerybingle called them; which were chiefly 
 nuts and oranges, and cakes, and such small deer. 
 When the repast was set forth on the board, flanked by 
 Caleb's contribution, which was a great wooden bowl of 
 smoking potatoes, Tackleton led his intended mother-in- 
 law to the Post of Honor. 
 
 Caleb sat next his daughter ; Dot and her old school- 
 fellow were side by side ; the good Carrier took care of 
 the bottom of the table. Miss Slowboy was isolated, for 
 the time being, from every article of furniture but the 
 chair she sat on, that she might have nothing else to 
 knock the Baby's head against. 
 
 As Tilly stared about her at the Dolls and Toys they 
 stared at her and at the company. The venerable old 
 gentlemen at the street doors (who were all in full 
 action) showed especial interest in the party: pausing 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 55 
 
 occasionally before leaping, as if they were listening to 
 the conversation: and then plunging Tildly over and 
 over, a great many times, without halting for breath, — 
 as in a frantic state of delight with the whole proceed- 
 ings. 
 
 Certainly, if these old gentlemen were inclined to have 
 a fiendish joy in the contemplation of Tackleton's dis- 
 comfiture, they had good reason to be satisfied. Tackle - 
 ton couldn't get on at all ; and the more cheerful his in- 
 tended Bride became in Dot's society, the less he liked 
 it, though he had brought them together for that pur- 
 pose. 
 
 "Ah, May!" said Dot. "Dear, dear, what changes! 
 To talk of those merry school-days makes one- young 
 again. " 
 
 "Why, you an't particularly old, at any time; are 
 you I " said Tackleton. 
 
 "Look at my sober, plodding husband there," re- 
 turned Dot. " He adds Twenty years to my age at least. 
 Don't you, John?" 
 
 "Forty," John replied. 
 
 "How many you'll add to May's, I am sure I don't 
 know," said Dot, laughing. "But she can't be much 
 less than a hundred years of age on her next birthday. " 
 
 "Ha, ha!" laughed Tackleton. Hollow as a drum, 
 that laugh, though. And he looked as if he could hav« 
 twisted Dot's neck comfortably. 
 
 "Dear, dear!" said Dot. " Only to remember how we 
 used to talk, at school, about the husbands we would 
 
 
o6 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 ohoose. I don't know how yonng, and how handsome, 
 and how gay, ana how lively, mine was not to be ! and 
 as to May's! — Ah dear! I don't know whether to laugh 
 or cry, when I think what silly girls we were. " 
 
 May seemed to know which to do ; for the color flashed 
 into her face, and tears stood in her eyes. 
 
 " Even the very persons themselves — real live young 
 men — we fixed on sometimes," said Dot. "We little 
 thought how things would come about. I never fixed on 
 John, I'm sure; I never so much as thought of him. 
 And if I had told you, you were ever to be married to 
 Mr. Tackleton, why you'd have slapped me. Wouldn't 
 you, May ! " 
 
 Though May didn't say yes, she certainly didn't say 
 no, or express no, by any means. 
 
 Tackleton laughed — quite shouted, he laughed so loud. 
 John Peerybingle laughed too, in his ordinary good- 
 natured and contented manner; but his was a mere 
 whisper of a laugh to Tackleton's. 
 
 "You couldn't help yourselves, for all that. You 
 couldn't resist us, you see," said Tackleton. "Here we 
 are ! Here we are ! Where are your gay young bride- 
 grooms now ! " 
 
 "Some of them are dead," said Dot; "and some of 
 them forgotten. Some of them, if they could stand 
 among us at this moment, would not believe we were 
 the same creatures ; would not believe that what they 
 saw and heard was real, and we could forget them so. 
 No ! they would not believe one word of it ! * 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 57 
 
 "Why, Dot!" exclaimed the Carrier. "Little 
 woman ! n 
 
 She had spoken with such earnestness and fire, that 
 she stood in need of some recalling to herself, without 
 doubt. Her husband's check was very gentle, for he 
 merely interfered, as he supposed, to shield old Tackle - 
 ton ; but it proved effectual, for she stopped, and said no 
 more. There was an uncommon agitation, even in her 
 silence, which the wary Tackleton, who had brought his 
 half-shut eye to bear upon her, noted closely. 
 
 May uttered no word good or bad, but sat quite still, 
 with her eyes cast down ; and made no sign of interest in 
 what had passed. The good lady her mother now inter- 
 posed: observing, in the first instance, that girls were 
 girls, and bygones bygones, and that so long as young 
 people were young and thoughtless, they would probably 
 conduct themselves like young and thoughtless persons: 
 with two or three other positions of a no less sound and 
 incontrovertible character. She then remarked that she 
 would not allude to the past, and would not mention that 
 her daughter had for some time rejected the suit of Mr. 
 Tackleton; and that she would not say a great many 
 other things which she did say, at great length. Finally, 
 she delivered it as the general result of her observation 
 and experience, that those marriages in which there was 
 least of what was romantically and sillily called love, 
 were always the happiest ; and that she anticipated the 
 greatest possible amount of bliss — not rapturous bliss; 
 but the solid, steady-going article — from the approach- 
 
58 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 
 ing nuptials. She coucluded by informing the company 
 that to-morrow was the day she had lived for, expressly ; 
 and that when it was over, she would desire nothing 
 better than to be packed up and disposed of, in any gen- 
 teel place of burial. 
 
 As these remarks were quite unanswerable, they 
 changed the current of the conversation, and diverted 
 the general attention to the Veal and Ham-Pie, the cold 
 mutton, the potatoes, and the tart. In order that the 
 bottled beer might not be slighted, John Peerybingle 
 proposed To-morrow: the Wedding-Day; and called 
 upon them to drink a bumper to it, before he proceeded 
 on his journey. 
 
 For you ought to know that he only rested there, and 
 gave the old horse a bait. He had to go some four or 
 five miles farther on ; and when he returned in the even- 
 ing, he called for Dot, and took another rest on his way 
 home. This was the order of the day on all the Pic-Nic 
 occasions, and had been ever since their institution. 
 
 There were two persons present, besides the bride an 
 bridegroom elect, who did but indifferent honor to the 
 toast. One of these was Dot, too flushed and discom- 
 posed to adapt herself to any small occurrence of the 
 moment ; the other, Bertha, who rose up hurriedly, be- 
 fore the rest, and left the table. 
 
 u Good-bye! " said stout John Peerybingle, pulling on 
 his dreadnought coat. "I shall be back at the old time. 
 Good-bye, all ! " 
 
 "Good-bye, John," returned Caleb. 
 
 •> 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 59 
 
 He seemed to say it by rote, and to wave his hand in 
 the same unconscious manner ; for he stood observing 
 Bertha with an anxious wondering face, that never 
 altered its expression. 
 
 "Good-bye, young shaver!" said the jolly Carrier, 
 bending down to kiss the child ; which Tilly Slowboy, 
 now intent upon her knife and fork, had deposited 
 asleep (and strange to say, without damage) in a little 
 cot of Bertha's furnishing ; " good-bye ! Time will come, 
 I suppose, when you'll turn out into the cold, my little 
 friend, and leave your old father to enjoy his pipe and 
 his rheumatics in the chimney-corner; eh? "Where's 
 Dot?" 
 
 "I'm here, John!" she said, starting. 
 
 " Come, come ! " returned the Carrier, clapping his 
 sounding hands. "Where's the Pipe? " 
 
 "I quite forgot the Pipe, John." 
 
 Forgot the Pipe ! Was such a wonder ever heard of ! 
 She ! Forgot the Pipe ! 
 
 "I'll— I'll fill it directly. It's soon done." 
 
 But it was not so soon done, either. It lay in the 
 usual place; the Carrier's dreadnought pocket; with the 
 little pouch, her own work ; from which she was used to 
 fill it ; but her hand shook so, that she entangled it and 
 bungled terribly. During the whole process, Tackleton 
 stood looking on with the half -closed eye ; which, when- 
 ever it met hers, augmented her confusion in a most re- 
 markable degree. 
 
 " Why, what a clumsy Dot you are, this afternoon ! " 
 
60 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 said John. " I could have done it better myself, I verily 
 believe ! " 
 
 With these good-natured words he strode away ; and 
 presently was heard, in company with Boxer, and the 
 old horse, and the cart, making lively music down the 
 road. What time the dreamy Caleb still stood, watch- 
 ing his Blind Daughter, with the same expression on his 
 face. 
 
 "Bertha! " said Caleb, softly. "What has happened! 
 How changed you are, my Darling, in a few hours — 
 since this morning. You silent and dull all day t What 
 isit« Tell me!" 
 
 "Oh, father, father!" cried the Blind Girl, bursting 
 into tears. " Oh my hard, hard Fate ! n 
 
 Caleb drew his hand across his eyes before he answered 
 her. 
 
 "But think how cheerful and how happy you have 
 been, Bertha! How good, and how much loved, by 
 many people." 
 
 "That strikes me to the heart, dear father! Always 
 so mindful of me ! Always so kind to me ! " 
 
 Caleb was very much perplexed to understand her. 
 
 "To be — to be blind, Bertha, my poor dear, n he fal- 
 tered, "is a great affliction; but " 
 
 " I have never felt it ! " cried the Blind GirL " I have 
 never felt it, in its fulness. Never! I have sometimes 
 wished that I could see you, or could see him ; only once, 
 dear father; only for one little minute; that I might 
 know what it is I treasure up," she laid her hands upon 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. (31 
 
 her breast, "and hold here! That I might be sure 1 
 have it right ! And sometimes (but then I was a child) 
 I have wept, in my prayers at night, to think that when 
 your images ascended from my heart to Heaven, they 
 might not be the true resemblance of yourselves. But I 
 have never had these feelings long. They have passed 
 away, and left me tranquil and contented." 
 
 "And they will again," said Caleb. 
 
 "But, father! Oh, my good, gentle father, bear with 
 me, if I am wicked ! " said the Blind Girl. " This is not 
 the sorrow that so weighs me down ! " 
 
 Her father could not choose but let his moist eyes 
 overflow ; she was so earnest and pathetic. But he did 
 not understand her yet. 
 
 "Bring her to me," said Bertha. "I cannot hold it 
 closed and shut within myself. Bring her to me, 
 father ! " 
 
 She knew he hesitated, and said, "May. Bring May." 
 
 May heard the mention of her name, and coming 
 quietly toward her, touched her on the arm. The Blind 
 Girl turned immediately, and held her by both hands. 
 
 "Look into my face, Dear heart, Sweet heart!" said 
 Bertha. "Read it with your beautiful eyes, and tell me 
 if the Truth is written on it. " 
 
 "Dear Bertha, Yes!" * 
 
 The Blind Girl still, upturning the blank sightless 
 face, down which the tears were coursing fast, addressed 
 her in these words : 
 
 u There is not, in my Soul, a wish or thought that is 
 
 
62 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 not for your good, bright May! There is not, in my 
 Soul, a grateful recollection stronger than the deep re- 
 membrance which is stored there, of the many, many 
 times when, in the full pride of Sight and Beauty, you 
 have had consideration for Blind Bertha, even when we 
 two were children, or when Bertha was as much a child 
 as ever blindness can be ! Every blessing on your head ! 
 Light upon your happy course ! Sot the less, my dear 
 May ; " and she drew toward her, in a closer grasp ; " not 
 the less, my Bird, because, to-day, the knowledge that 
 you are to be His wife has wrung my heart almost to 
 breaking! Father, May, Mary! Oh, forgive me that 
 it is so, for the sake of all he has done to relieve the 
 weariness of my dark life : and for the sake of the belief 
 you have in me, when I call Heaven to witness that I 
 could not wish him married to a wife more worthy of his 
 Goodness ! " 
 
 While speaking, she had released May Fielding's 
 hands, and clasped her garments in an attitude of min- 
 gled supplication and love. Sinking lower and lower 
 down, as she proceeded in her strange confession, she 
 dropped at last at the feet of her friend, and hid her 
 blind face in the folds of her dress. 
 
 "Great Power! " exclaimed her father, smitten at one 
 blow with the truth, "have I deceived her from her 
 cradle, but to break her heart at last ! " 
 
 It was well for all of them that Dot, that beaming, 
 useful, busy little Dot, was there : or where this would 
 have ended, it were hard to tell. But Dot, recovering 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. G3 
 
 her self-possession, interposed, before May could reply, 
 or Caleb say another word. 
 
 "Come, come, dear Bertha! come away with me! 
 Give her your arm, May. So ! How composed she is, 
 you see, already; and how good it is of her to mind us," 
 said the cheery little woman, kissing her upon the fore- 
 head. "Come away, dear Bertha! Come! and here's 
 her good father will come with her; won't you, Caleb! 
 To — be — sure!" 
 
 Well, well ! she was a noble little Dot, in such things, 
 and it must have been an obdurate nature that could 
 have withstood her influence. When she had got poor 
 Caleb and his Bertha away that they might comfort and 
 console each other, as she knew they only could, she 
 presently came bouncing back, to mount guard over that 
 bridling little piece of consequence in the cap and gloves, 
 and prevent the dear old creature from making discov- 
 eries. 
 
 "So bring me the precious Baby, Tilly," said she, 
 drawing a chair to the fire ; "and while I have it in my 
 lap, here's Mrs. Fielding, Tilly, will tell me all about 
 the management of Babies, and put me right in twenty 
 points where I'm as wrong as can be. Won't you, Mrs. 
 Fielding?" 
 
 Not even the Welsh Giant fell half so readily into the 
 Snare prepared for him, as the old lady into this artful 
 Pitfall. The fact of Tackleton having walked out ; and 
 furthermore, of two or three people having been talking 
 together at a distance, for two minutes, leaving her to 
 
64 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 her own resources ; was quite enough to have put her on 
 her dignity. But this becoming deference to her expe- 
 rience, on the part of the young mother, was so irresisti- 
 ble, that after a short affectation of humility, she began 
 to enlighten her with the best grace in the world ; and 
 sitting bolt upright before the wicked Dot, she did, in 
 half an hour, deliver more infallible domestic recipes 
 and precepts, than would have utterly destroyed that 
 .Young Peerybingle, though he had been an Infant 
 Samson. 
 
 To change the theme, Dot did a little needlework — she 
 carried the contents of a whole workbox in her pocket — 
 then did a little nursing ; then a little more needlework ; 
 then had a little whispering chat with May, while the 
 old lady dozed; and so in little bits of bustle, which was 
 quite her manner always, found it a very short after- 
 noon. Then, as it grew dark, and as it was a solemn 
 part of this Institution of the Pic-N"ic that she should 
 perform all Bertha's household tasks, she trimmed the 
 fire, and swept the hearth, and set the teaboard out, and 
 drew the curtain, and lighted a candle. Then she played 
 an air or two on a rude kind of harp, which Caleb had 
 contrived for Bertha, and played them very well ; for 
 Nature had made her delicate little ear as choice a one 
 for music as it would have been for jewels, if she had 
 had any to wear. By this time it was the established 
 hour for having tea ; and Tackleton came back again to 
 share the meal and spend the evening. 
 
 Caleb and Bertha had returned some time before, and 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. Q§ 
 
 Caleb had sat down to his afternoon's work. But ho 
 couldn't settle to it, poor fellow, being anxious and re- 
 morseful for his daughter. It was touching to see him 
 sitting idle on his working-stool, regarding her so wist- 
 fully; and always saying in his face, "Have I deceived 
 her from her cradle but to break her heart ! " 
 
 When it was night, and tea was done, and Dot had 
 nothing more to do in washing up the cups and saucers ; 
 in a word, when the time drew nigh for expecting the 
 Carrier's return, her manner changed again ; her color 
 came and went ; and she was very restless. 
 
 Wheels heard. A horse's feet. The barking of a 
 dog. The gradual approach of all the sounds. The 
 scratching paw of Boxer at the door ! 
 
 "Whose step is that! " cried Bertha, starting up. 
 
 "Whose step?" returned the Carrier, standing in the 
 portal, with his brown fac^? ruddy as a winter berry from 
 the keen night air. "Why, mine." 
 
 "The other step," said Bertha. "The man's tread 
 behind you ? " 
 
 "She is not to be deceived," observed the Carrier, 
 laughing. " Come along, Sir. You'll be welcome, never 
 fear ! " 
 
 He spoke in a loud tone ; and as he spoke, the deaf 
 old gentleman entered. 
 
 " He's not so much a stranger, that you haven't seen 
 him once, Caleb," said the Carrier. "You'll give him 
 house-room till we go? " 
 
 "Oh surely, John; and take it as an honor. * 
 
fc 
 
 60 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 "He's the best company on earth, to talk secrets in," 
 said John. "I have reasonable good lungs, but he tries 
 'em, I can tell you. Sit down, Sir. All friends here, 
 and glad to see you ! " 
 
 When he had imparted this assurance in a voice that 
 amply corroborated what he had said about his lungs, 
 he added in his natural tone, "A chair in the chimney- 
 corner, and leave to sit quite silent and look pleasantly 
 about him, is all he cares for. He's easily pleased." 
 
 Bertha had been listening intently. She called Caleb 
 to her side, when he had set the chair, and asked him, 
 in a low voice, to describe their visitor. When he had 
 done so (truly now, with scrupulous fidelity), she moved, 
 for the first time since he had come in, and sighed ; and 
 seemed to have no further interest concerning him. 
 
 The Carrier was in high spirits, good fellow that he 
 was ; and fonder of his little wife than ever. 
 
 "A clumsy Dot she was, this afternoon!" he said, 
 encircling her with his rough arm, as she stood, removed 
 from the rest ; " and yet I like her somehow. See yon- 
 der, Dot ! " 
 
 He pointed to the old man. She looked down. I 
 think she trembled. 
 
 "He's — ha, ha, ha! — he's full of admiration for you! " 
 said the Carrier. "Talked of nothing else, the whole 
 way here. Why, he's a brave old boy. I like him for it ! " 
 
 "I wish he had had a better subject, John; " she said, 
 with an uneasy glance about the room ; at Tackleton es- 
 pecially. 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 67 
 
 u A better subject ! " cried the jovial John. " There's 
 no such thing. Come ! off with the great- coat, off with 
 the thick shawl, off with the heavy wrappers! and a 
 cosy half -hour by the fire ! My humble service, Mistress. 
 A game of cribbage, you and I! That's hearty. The 
 cards and board, Dot. And a glass of beer here, if 
 there's any left, small wife ! " 
 
 His challenge was addressed to the old lady, who ac- 
 cepting it with gracious readiness, they were soon en- 
 gaged upon the game. At first, the Carrier looked 
 about him sometimes, with a smile, or now and then 
 called Dot to peep over his shoulder at his hand, and 
 advise him on some knotty point. But his adversary 
 being a rigid disciplinarian, and subject to an occasional 
 weakness in respect of pegging more than she was 
 entitled to, required such vigilance on his part, as 
 left him neither eyes nor ears to spare. Thus his whole 
 attention gradually became absorbed upon the cards; 
 and he thought of nothing else, until a hand upon 
 his shoulder restored him to a consciousness of Tackle- 
 ton. 
 
 "I am sorry to disturb you — but a word, directly." 
 "I'm going to deal," returned the Carrier. "It's a 
 crisis. " 
 
 " It is, " said Tackleton. " Come here, man ! " 
 There was that in his pale face which made the other 
 rise immediately, and ask him, in a hurry, what the 
 matter was. 
 
 "Hush! John Peerybingle, " said Tackleton. "I am 
 6 
 
68 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 sorry for this. I am indeed. I have been afraid of it. 
 I have suspected it from the first." 
 
 "What is it?" asked the Carrier, with a frightened 
 aspect. 
 
 " Hush ! I'll show you, if you'll come with me." 
 
 The Carrier accompanied him, without another word. 
 They went across a yard, where the stars were shining ; 
 and by a little side door, into Tackleton's own counting- 
 house, where there was a glass-window, commanding the 
 ware-room, which was closed for the night. There was 
 no light in the counting-house itself, but there were 
 lamps in the long narrow ware-room : and consequently 
 the window was bright. 
 
 " A moment, " said Tackleton. " Can you bear to look 
 through that window, do you think 1 " 
 
 "Why not? " returned the Carrier. 
 
 "A moment more," said Tackleton. "Don't commit 
 any violence. It's no use. It's dangerous too. You're 
 a strong-made man ; and you might do murder before 
 you know it. " 
 
 The Carrier looked him in the face, and recoiled a 
 step as if he had been struck. In one stride he was at 
 the window, and he saw 
 
 He saw her with the old man ; old no longer, but erect 
 and gallant: bearing in his hand the false white hair 
 that had won his way into their home. He saw her list- 
 ening to him, as he bent his head to whisper in her ear ; 
 and suffering him to clasp her round the waist, as they 
 moved slowly down the dim wooden gallery toward the 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 69 
 
 door by which they had entered it. He saw them stop, 
 and saw her turn — to have the face, the face he loved 
 so, so presented to his view ! — and saw her with her own 
 hands, adjust the Lie upon his head, laughing, as she 
 did it, at his unsuspicious nature ! 
 
 He clenched his strong right hand at first, as if it 
 would have beaten down a lion. But opening it imme- 
 diately again, he spread it out before the eyes of Tackle- 
 ton (for he was tender of her, even then), and so, as 
 they passed out, fell down upon a desk, and was as weak 
 as any infant. 
 
 He was wrapped up to the chin, and busy with his 
 horse and parcels, when she came into the room, pre- 
 pared for going home. 
 
 "Now John, dear! Good night, May! Good night, 
 Bertha ! " 
 
 Could she kiss them ! Could she be blithe and cheer- 
 ful in her parting? Could she venture to reveal her 
 face to them without a blush? Yes. Tackleton ob- 
 served her closely ; and she did all this. : 
 
 "Now Tilly, give me the Baby. Good night, Mr. 
 Tackleton. Where's John, for Goodness' sake?" 
 
 "He's going to walk, beside the horse's head," said 
 Tackleton ; who helped her to her seat. 
 
 "My dear John. Walk? To-night?"- 
 
 The muffled figure of her husband made a hasty sign 
 in the affirmative ; and the false Stranger and the little 
 nurse being in their places, the old horse moved off. 
 Boxer, the unconscious Boxer, running on before, run- 
 
70 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 ning back, running round and round the cart, and bark- 
 ing as triumphantly and merrily as ever. 
 
 When Tackleton had gone off likewise, escorting May 
 and her mother home, poor Caleb sat down by the fire 
 beside his daughter ; anxious and remorseful at the core ; 
 and still saying in his wistful contemplation of her, 
 "Have I deceived her from her cradle, but to break her 
 heart at last ! " 
 
 The toys that had been set in motion for the Baby, 
 had all stopped and run down long ago. In the faint 
 light and silence, the imperturbably calm dolls ; the agi- 
 tated rocking-horses with distended eyes and nostrils; 
 the old gentlemen at the street doors, standing, half 
 doubled up, upon their failing knees and ankles; the 
 wry-faced nutcrackers; the very Beasts upon their 
 way into the Ark, in twos, like a Boarding -School 
 out walking ; might have been imagined to be stricken 
 motionless with fantastic wonder, at Dot being false, 
 or Tackleton beloved, under any combination of circum- 
 stances. 
 
 CHIEP THE THIED. 
 
 The Dutch clock in the corner struck Ten, when the 
 Carrier sat down by his fireside. So troubled and grief - 
 worn, that he seemed to scare the Cuckoo, who, having 
 cut his ten melodious announcements as short as possi- 
 ble, plunged back into the Moorish Palace again, and 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 7l 
 
 clapped his little door behind him, as if the unwonted 
 spectacle were too much for his feelings. 
 
 If the little Haymaker had been armed with the 
 sharpest of scythes, and had cut at every stroke into the 
 Carrier's heart, he never could have gashed and wounded 
 it, as Dot had done. 
 
 It was a heart so full of love for her ; so bound up and 
 held together by innumerable threads of winning remem- 
 brance, spun from the daily working of her many qual- 
 ities of endearment ; it was a heart in which she had 
 enshrined herself so gently and so closely ; a heart so 
 single and so earnest in its Truth : so strong in right, so 
 weak in wrong : that it could cherish neither passion nor 
 revenge at first, and had only room to hold the broken 
 image of its Idol. 
 
 But slowly, slowly ; as the Carrier sat brooding on his 
 hearth, now cold and dark ; other and fiercer thoughts 
 began to rise within him, as an angry wind comes rising 
 in the night. The Stranger was beneath his outraged 
 roof. Three steps would take him to his chamber door. 
 One blow would beat it in. " You might do Murder be- 
 fore you know it, " Tackleton had said. How could it 
 be Murder if he gave the Villain time to grapple with 
 him hand to hand ! He was the younger man. 
 
 It was an ill-timed thought, bad for the dark mood of 
 his mind. It was an angry thought, goading him to 
 some avenging act, that should change the cheerful 
 house into a haunted p] ace which lonely travellers would 
 dread to pass by night ; and where the timid would see 
 
72 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 shadows struggling in the ruined windows when the 
 moon was dim, and hear wild noises in the stormy 
 weather. 
 
 He was the younger man ! Yes, yes ; some lover who 
 had won the heart that he had never touched. Some 
 lover of her early choice ; of whom she had thought and 
 dreamed ; for whom she had pined and pined ; when he 
 had fancied her so happy by his side. 
 
 She had been above stairs with the Baby, getting it to 
 bed. As he sat brooding on the hearth, she came close 
 beside him, without his knowledge, and put her little 
 stool at his feet. He only knew it, when he felt her 
 hand upon his own, and saw her looking up into his face. 
 
 With wonder ! [No. It was his first impression, and 
 he was fain to look at her again, to set it right. No, not 
 with wonder. With an eager and inquiring look ; but 
 not with wonder. At first it was alarmed and serious ; 
 then it changed into a strange, wild, dreadful smile of 
 recognition of his thoughts ; then there was nothing but 
 her clasped hands on her brow, and her bent head, and 
 falling hair. 
 
 He could not bear to see her crouching down upon the 
 little seat where he had often looked on her, with love 
 and pride, so innocent and gay ; and when she rose and 
 left him, sobbing as she went, he felt it a relief to have 
 the vacant place beside him rather than her so long 
 cherished presence. This in itself was anguish keener 
 than all : reminding him how desolate he was become, 
 and how the great bond of his life was rent asunder. 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 73 
 
 The more he felt this, the higher and the stronger rose 
 his wrath against his enemy. He looked about him for 
 a weapon. 
 
 There was a Gun hanging on the wall. He took it 
 down, and moved a pace or two toward the door of the 
 perfidious Stranger's room. He knew the Gun was 
 loaded. Some shadowy idea that it was just to shoot 
 this man like a Wild Beast, seized him ; and dilated in 
 his mind until it grew into a monstrous demon in com- 
 plete possession of him, casting out all milder thoughts 
 and setting up its undivided empire. 
 
 He reversed the Gun to beat the stock upon the door ; 
 he already held it lifted in the air ; when, suddenly, the 
 struggling fire illumined the whole chimney with a glow 
 of light ; and the Cricket on the Hearth began to chirp ! 
 
 No sound he could have heard ; no human voice, not 
 even hers, could so have moved and softened him. The 
 artless words in which she had told him of her love for 
 this same Cricket, were once more freshly spoken , her 
 trembling, earnest manner at the moment, was again 
 before him; her voice — oh, what a voice it was, for 
 making household music — thrilled through and through 
 his better nature, and awoke it into life and action. 
 
 He recoiled from the door, like a man walking in his 
 sleep, awakened from a frightful dream; and put the 
 Gun aside. Clasping his hands before his face, he then 
 sat down again beside the fire, and found relief in tears. 
 
 The Cricket on the Hearth came out into the room, 
 and stood in Fairy shape before him. 
 
74 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 " ' I love it, ' " said the Fairy Voice, repeating what he 
 well remembered, " ' for the many times I have heard it, 
 and the many thoughts its harmless music has given 
 me. ' " 
 
 " She said so ! " cried the Carrier. " True ! " 
 
 " ■ This has been a happy Home, John ; and I love the 
 Cricket for its sake ! ' " 
 
 "It has been, Heaven knows," returned the Carrier. 
 "She made it happy always, — until now." 
 
 "So gracefully sweet-tempered; so domestic, joyful, 
 busy, and light-hearted, " said the Voice. 
 
 "Otherwise I never could have loved her as I did," 
 returned the Carrier. 
 
 The Voice, correcting him, said "Do." 
 
 The Carrier repeated "as I did." But not firmly. 
 His faltering tongue resisted his control, and would 
 speak in its own way, for itself and him. 
 
 The Figure, in an attitude of invocation, raised its 
 hand and said : 
 
 " Upon your own hearth. The hearth she has — how 
 often! — blessed and brightened, the hearth which, but 
 for her, were only a few stones and bricks and rusty 
 bars, but which has been, through her, the Altar of your 
 Home ; on which you have nightly sacrificed some petty 
 passion, selfishness, or care, and offered up the homage 
 of a tranquil mind, a trusting nature, and an overflow- 
 ing heart ; your own hearth ; in its quiet sanctuary ; hear 
 her ! Hear me ! Hear everything that speaks the Ian 
 guage of your hearth and heme! " 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 75 
 
 "And pleads for her? " inquired the Carrier. 
 
 u All things that speak the language of your hearth 
 and home, must plead for her ! " returned the Cricket. 
 "For they speak the Truth." 
 
 And while the Carrier, with his head upon his hands, 
 continued to sit meditating in his chair, the Presence 
 stood beside him ; suggesting his reflections by its power, 
 and presenting them before him, as in a Glass or Pict- 
 ure. It was not a solitary Presence. From the hearth- 
 stone, from the chimney ; from the clock, the pipe, the 
 kettle, and the cradle; from the floor, the walls, the 
 ceiling, and the stairs ; from the cart without, and the 
 cupboard within, and the household implements ; from 
 everything and every place with which she had ever 
 been familiar; Fairies came trooping forth. Not to 
 stand beside him as the Cricket did, but to busy and be- 
 stir themselves. To do all honor to her image. To pull 
 him by the skirts, and point to it when it appeared. To 
 cluster round it, and embrace it, and strew flowers for 
 it to tread on. To try to crown its fair head with their 
 tiny hands. To show that they were very fond of it 
 and loved it ; and that there was not one ugly, wicked 
 creature to claim knowledge of it — none but their play- 
 ful and approving selves. 
 
 His thoughts were constant to her Image. It was al- 
 ways there. 
 
 She sat plying her needle before the fire, and singing 
 to herself. Such a blithe, thriving, steady little Dot! 
 The fairy figures turned upon him all at once, by one 
 
fc 
 
 T6 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 consent, with one prodigious concentrated stare; and 
 seemed to say "Is this the light wife you are mourning 
 for?" 
 
 There were sounds of gayety outside : musical instru- 
 ments, and noisy tongues, and laughter. A crowd of 
 young merry-makers came pouring in; among whom 
 were May Fielding and a score of pretty girls. Dot was 
 the fairest of them all ; as young as any of them too,. 
 They came to summon her to join their party. It was 
 a dance. If ever little foot were made for dancing, hers 
 was, surely. But she laughed, and shook her head, and 
 pointed to her cookery on the fire, and her table ready 
 spread: with an exulting defiance that rendered her 
 more charming than she was before. And so she merrily 
 dismissed them : nodding to her would-be partners, one 
 by one, as they passed out, with a comical indifference. 
 And yet indifference was not her character. Oh, no! 
 For presently, there came a certain Carrier to the door ; 
 and, bless her, what a welcome she bestowed upon him ! 
 
 Again the staring figures turned upon him all at once 
 and seemed to say "Is this the wife who has forsaken 
 you ! " 
 
 A shadow fell upon the mirror or the picture : call it 
 what you will. A great shadow of the Stranger, as he 
 first stood underneath their roof; covering its surface, 
 and blotting out all other objects. But the nimble fair- 
 ies worked like Bees to clear it off again ; and Dot again 
 was there. Still bright and beautiful. 
 
 Eocking her little Baby in its cradle ; singing to it 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. f? 
 
 softly; and resting her head upon a shoulder which nad 
 its counterpart in the musing figure by which the Fairy 
 Cricket stood. 
 
 The night — I mean the real night : not going by Fairy 
 clocks — was wearing now ; and in this stage of the Car- 
 rier's thoughts, the moon burst out, and shone brightly 
 in the sky. Perhaps some calm and quiet light had risen 
 also in his mind ; and he could think more soberly of 
 what had happened. 
 
 Although the shadow of the Stranger fell at intervals 
 upon the glass — always distinct, and big, and thoroughly 
 defined — it never fell so darkly as at first. Whenever it 
 appeared, the Fairies uttered a general cry of consterna- 
 tion, and plied their little arms and legs, with incon- 
 ceivable activity, to rub it out. And whenever they got 
 at Dot again, and showed her to him once more, bright 
 and beautiful, they cheered in the most inspiring man- 
 ner. 
 
 They never showed her, otherwise than beautiful and 
 bright, for they were Household Spirits to whom False- 
 hood is annihilation ; and being so, what Dot was there 
 for them, but the one active, beaming, pleasant little 
 creature who had been the light and sun of the Carrier's 
 Home! 
 
 The Fairies were prodigiously excited when they 
 showed her, with the Baby, gossiping among a knot of 
 sage old matrons, and affecting to be wondrous old and 
 matronly herself, and leaning in a staid, demure old 
 way upon her husband's arm, attempting — she! such a 
 
78 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 bud of a little woman — to convey the idea of having ab- 
 jured the vanities of the world in general, and of being 
 the sort of person to whom it was no novelty at all to be 
 a mother; yet in the same breath, they showed her, 
 laughing at the Carrier for being awkward, and pulling 
 up his shirt-collar to make him smart, and mincing mer- 
 rily about that very room to teach him how to dance ! 
 
 They turned, and stared immensely at him when they 
 showed her with the Blind Girl ; for though she carried 
 cheerfulness and animation with her, wheresoever she 
 went, she bore those influences into Caleb Plummer's 
 home, heaped up and running over. The Blind Girl's 
 love for her, and trust in her, and gratitude to her ; her 
 own good busy way of setting Bertha's thanks aside ; her 
 dextrous little arts for filling up each moment of the 
 visit in doing something useful to the house, and really 
 working hard while feigning to make holiday; her 
 bountiful provision of those standing delicacies, the 
 Veal and Ham-Pie and the bottles of Beer ; her radiant 
 little face arriving at the door, and taking leave ; all this 
 the Fairies revelled in, and loved her for. And once 
 again they looked upon him all at once, appealingly; 
 and seemed to say, while some among them nestled in 
 her dress and fondled her, "Is this the wife who has 
 betrayed your confidence ! " 
 
 More than once, or twice, or thrice, in the long 
 thoughtful night, they showed her to him sitting on her 
 favorite seat, with her bent head, her hands clasped on 
 her brow, her falling hair : as he had seen her last. And 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 79 
 
 when they found her thus, they neither turned nor 
 looked upon him, but gathered close round her, and 
 comforted and kissed her : and pressed on one another 
 to show sympathy and kindness to her : and forgot him 
 altogether. 
 
 Thus the night passed. The moon went down ; the 
 stars grew pale ; the cold day broke ; the sun rose. The 
 Carrier still sat, musing, in the chimney corner. He 
 had sat there, with his head upon his hands, all night. 
 All night the faithful Cricket had been Chirp, Chirp, 
 Chirping on the Hearth. All night he had listened to 
 its voice. All night, the household Fairies had been 
 busy with him. All night, she had been amiable and 
 blameless in the Glass, except when that one shadow fell 
 upon it, 
 
 He rose up when it was broad day, and washed and 
 dressed himself. He couldn't go about his customary 
 cheerful avocations ; he wanted spirit for them ; but it 
 mattered the less, that it was Tackleton 's wedding-day, 
 and he had arranged to make his rounds by proxy. He 
 had thought to have gone merrily to church with Dot. 
 But such plans were at an end. It was their own 
 wedding-day too. Ah! how little he had looked for 
 such a close to such a year ! 
 
 The Carrier expected that Tackleton would pay him 
 an early visit ; and he was right. He had not walked to 
 and fro before his own door many minutes, when he saw 
 the Toy Merchant coming in his chaise along the road. 
 As the chaise drew nearer, he perceived that Tackleton 
 
80 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 was dressed out sprucely for his marriage : and had deco- 
 rated his horse's head with flowers and favors. 
 
 The horse looked much more like a Bridegroom than 
 Tackleton ; whose half -closed eye was more disagreeably 
 expressive than ever. But the Carrier took little heed 
 of this. His thoughts had other occupation. 
 
 " John Peerybingle ! " said Tackleton, with an air of 
 condolence. "My good fellow, how do you find yourself 
 this morning ! w 
 
 "I have had but a poor night, Master Tackleton, " 
 returned the Carrier, shaking his head: "for I have 
 been a good deal disturbed in my mind. But it's over 
 now ! Can you spare me half an hour or so for some 
 private talk?" 
 
 "I came on purpose," returned Tackleton, alighting. 
 "Never mind the horse. He'll stand quiet enough, with 
 the reins over this post, if you'll give him a mouthful of 
 hay." 
 
 The Carrier having brought it from his stable and set 
 it before him, they turned into the house. 
 
 " You are not married before noon 1 " he said, " I think f " 
 
 ' ' No, " answered Tackleton. u Plenty of time. Plenty 
 of time. " 
 
 When they entered the kitchen, Tilly Slowboy was 
 rapping at the Stranger's door ; which was only removed 
 from it by a few steps. One of her very red eyes (for 
 Tilly had been crying all night long, because her mis- 
 tress cried) was at the keyhole ; and she was knocking 
 very loud ; and seemed frightened. 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 81 
 
 "If you please I can't make nobody hear," said Tilly, 
 looking round. "I hope nobody an't gone and been and 
 died if you please ! " 
 
 Tackleton went to Tilly Slowboy's relief; and he 
 kicked and knocked ; and he too failed to get the least 
 reply. But he thought of trying the handle of the door ; 
 and as it opened easily, he peeped in, and soon came 
 running out again. 
 
 "John Peerybingle, " said Tackleton, in his ear. "I 
 hope there has been nothing — nothing rash in the night." 
 
 The Carrier turned upon him quickly. 
 
 "Because he's gone!" said Tackleton; "and the 
 window's open. I don't see any marks — to be sure 
 it's almost on a level with the garden: but I was 
 afraid there might have been some — some scuffle. 
 Eh?" 
 
 "Make yourself easy," said the Carrier. "He went 
 into that room last night, without harm in word or deed 
 from me ; and no one has entered it since. He is away 
 of his own free will. He has come and gone. And I 
 have done with him ! " 
 
 "Oh! — Well, I think he has got off pretty easily," 
 said Tackleton, taking a chair. 
 
 The sneer was lost upon the Carrier, who sat down 
 too, and shaded his face with his hand, for some little 
 time before proceeding. 
 
 "You showed me last night," he said at length, "my 
 wife ; my wife that I love ; secretly conniving at that 
 man's disguise, and giving him opportunities of meeting 
 
82 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 her alone. I think there's no sight I wouldn't have 
 rather seen than that. " 
 
 "I confess to having had my suspicions always," said 
 Tackleton. "And that has made me objectionable here, 
 I know. " 
 
 "But as you did show it me, "pursued the Carrier, not 
 minding him; " and as you saw her ; my wife; my wife 
 that I love" — his voice, and eye, and hand grew stead- 
 ier and firmer as he repeated these words : evidently in 
 pursuance of a steadfast purpose — "as you saw her at 
 this disadvantage, it is right and just that you should 
 also see with my eyes, and look into my breast, and 
 know what my mind is, upon the subject. For it's set- 
 tled," said the Carrier, regarding him attentively. 
 "And nothing can shake it now." 
 
 Tackleton muttered a few general words of assent, 
 about its being necessary to vindicate something or 
 other ; but he was overawed by the manner of his com- 
 panion. Plain and unpolished as it was, it had a some- 
 thing dignified and noble in it, which nothing but the 
 soul of generous honor dwelling in the man could have 
 imparted. 
 
 "I am a plain, rough man," pursued the Carrier, 
 "with very little to recommend me. I am not a clever 
 man, as you very well know. I am not a young man. 
 I loved my little Dot, because I had seen her grow up, 
 from a child, in her father's house ; because I knew how 
 precious she was; because she had been my Life, for 
 years. There's many men I can't compare with, who 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 83 
 
 never could have loved my little Dot like nie, I 
 think ! » 
 
 He paused, and softly beat the ground a short time 
 with his foot, before resuming : 
 
 "I often thought that though I wasn't good enough for 
 her, I should make her a kind husband, and perhaps 
 know her value better than another ; and in this way I 
 reconciled it to myself, and came to think it might be 
 possible that we should be married. And in the end it 
 came about, and we were married. " 
 
 " Hah ! " said Tackleton, with a significant shake of 
 his head. 
 
 "I had studied myself; I had had experience of my- 
 self ; I knew how much I loved her, and how happy I 
 should be," pursued the Carrier. "But I had not — I 
 feel it now — sufficiently considered her." 
 
 "To be sure," said Tackleton. "Giddiness, frivolity, 
 fickleness, love of admiration! Not considered! All 
 left out of sight! Hah!" 
 
 "You had best not interrupt me," said the Carrier, 
 with some sternness, "till you understand me; and 
 you're wide of doing so. If, yesterday, I'd have struck 
 that man down at a blow, who dared to breathe a word 
 against her; to-day I'd set my foot upon his face, if he 
 was my brother ! " 
 
 The Toy Merchant gazed at him in astonishment. He 
 went on in a softer tone : 
 
 "Did I consider," said the Carrier, "that I took her; 
 at her age, and with her beauty ; from the young com- 
 
 
84 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 • 
 
 panions, and the many scenes of which she was the orna< 
 ment ; to shut her up from day to day in my dull house, 
 and keep my tedious company ! Did I consider how lit- 
 tle suited I was to her sprightly humor, and how weari- 
 some a plodding man like me must be, to one of her 
 quick spirit 1 Did I consider that it was no merit in me, 
 or claim in me, that I loved her, when everybody must 
 who knew her? Never. I took advantage of her hope- 
 ful nature and her cheerful disposition ; and I married 
 her. I wish I never had ! For her sake ; not for mine ! " 
 
 The Toy Merchant gazed at him without winking. 
 Even the half -shut eye was open now. 
 
 " Heaven bless her! " said the Carrier, "for the cheer- 
 ful constancy with which she has tried to keep the 
 kuowledge of this from me! and Heaven help me, that 
 in my slow mind, I have not found it out before ! Poor 
 child! Poor Dot! That I could ever hope she would 
 be fond of me ! That I could ever believe she was ! n 
 
 "She made a show of it," said Tackleton. "She made 
 such a show of it, that to tell you the truth it was the 
 origin of my misgivings. " 
 
 And here he asserted the superiority of May Fielding, 
 who certainly made no sort of show of being fond of 
 him. 
 
 "She has tried," said the poor Carrier, with greater 
 emotion than he had exhibited yet; "I only now begin 
 to know how hard she has tried ; to be my dutiful and 
 zealous wife. How good she has been ; how much she 
 has done ; how brave and strong a heart she has ; let the 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 85 
 
 happiness I have known under this roof bear witness! 
 It will be some help and comfort to me when I am here 
 alone. " 
 
 "Here alone! " said Tackleton. "Oh! Then you do 
 mean to take some notice of this ? " 
 
 "I mean/ 7 returned the Carrier, "to do her the great- 
 est kindness, and make her the best reparation in my 
 power. I can release her from the daily pain of an 
 unequal marriage, and the struggle to conceal it. She 
 shall be as free as I can render her. " 
 
 "Make her reparation!" exclaimed Tackleton, twist- 
 ing and turning his great ears with his hands. " There 
 must be something wrong here. You didn't say that, of 
 course. " 
 
 The Carrier set his grip upon the collar of the Toy 
 Merchant, and shook him like a reed. 
 
 "Listen to me!" he said. " And take care that you 
 hear me right. Listen to me. Do I speak plainly ? " 
 
 "Very plainly indeed," answered Tackleton. 
 
 "As if I meant it?" .\ 
 
 "Very much as if you meant it." 
 
 "I sat upon that hearth, last night, all night," ex- 
 claimed the Carrier. "On the spot where she has often 
 sat beside me, with her sweet face looking into mine. I 
 called up her whole life, day by day ; I had her dear 
 self, in its every passage, in review before me. And 
 upon my soul she is innocent, if there is One to judge 
 the innocent and guilty ! Passion and distrust have left 
 me, and nothing but my grief remains. In an unhappy 
 
86 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 moment, some old xover, better suited to her tastes and 
 years than I; forsaken, perhaps, for me, against her 
 will ; returned. In an unhappy moment : taken by sur- 
 prise, and wanting time to think of what she did, she 
 made herself a party to his treachery, by concealiDg it. 
 Last night she saw him, in the interview we witnessed. 
 It was wrong. But otherwise than this, she is innocent 
 if there is Truth on earth ! " 
 
 " If that is your opinion " Tackleton began. 
 
 "So, let her go!" pursued the Carrier. "Go, with 
 my blessing for the many happy hours she has given me, 
 and my forgiveness for any pang she has caused me. 
 Let her go, and have the peace of mind I wish her ! She'll 
 never hate me. She'll learn to like me better, when I'm 
 not a drag upon her, and she wears the chain I have 
 riveted, more lightly. This is the day on which I took 
 her, with so little thought for her enjoyment, from her 
 home. To-day she shall return to it ; and I will trouble 
 her no more. Her father and mother will be here to-day 
 — we had made a little plan for keeping it together — and 
 they shall take her home. I can trust her there, or any- 
 where. She leaves me without blame, and she will live 
 so, I am sure. If I should die — I may perhaps while she 
 is still young ; I have lost some courage in a few hours 
 — she'll find that I remembered her and loved her to the 
 last ! This is the end of what you showed me. Now, 
 it's over!" 
 
 "Oh no, John, not over. Do not say it's over yet! 
 Not quite yet. I have heard your noble words. I could 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 87 
 
 not steal away, pretending to be ignorant of what has 
 affected me with snch deep gratitude. Do not say it's 
 over, till the clock has struck again ! " 
 
 She had entered shortly after Tackleton ; and had 
 remained there. She never looked at Tackleton, but 
 fixed her eyes upon her husband. But she kept away 
 from him, setting as wide a space as possible between 
 them ; and though she spoke with most impassioned ear- 
 nestness, she went no nearer to him even then. How 
 different is this, from her old self ! 
 
 " No hand can make the clock which will strike again 
 for me the hours that are gone," replied the Carrier, 
 with a faint smile. "But let it be so, if you will, my 
 dear. It will strike soon. It's of little matter what we 
 say. I'd try to please you in a harder case than that." 
 
 "Well!" muttered Tackleton. "I must be off; for 
 when the clock strikes again, it'll be necessary for me 
 to be upon my way to church. Good morning, John 
 Peerybingle. I'm sorry to be deprived of the pleasure 
 of your company. Sorry for the loss, and the occasion 
 of it too!" 
 
 "I have spoken plainly?" said the Carrier, accom- 
 panying him to the door. 
 
 "Oh, quite!" 
 
 "And you'll remember what I have said? " 
 
 "Why, if you compel me to make the observation," 
 said Tackleton ; previously taking the precaution of get- 
 ting into his chaise; "I must say that it was so very 
 unexpected, that I'm far from being likely to forget it." 
 

 88 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 "The better for us both," returned the Carrier, 
 " Good-bye. I give you joy ! " 
 
 "I wish I could give it to you," said Tackleton. "As 
 I can't; thank 'ee. Between ourselves (as I told you 
 before, eh?) I don't much think I shall have the less joy 
 in my married life, because May hasn't been too officious 
 about me, and too demonstrative. Good-bye! Take 
 care of yourself. " 
 
 The Carrier stood looking after him until he was 
 smaller in the distance than his horse's flowers and favors 
 near at hand ; and then, with a deep sigh, went strolling 
 among some neighboring elms ; unwilling to return until 
 the clock was on the eve of striking. 
 
 His little wife, being left alone, sobbed piteously 
 but often dried her eyes and checked herself, to say how 
 good he was, how excellent he was ! and once or twice 
 she laughed ; so heartily, triumphantly, and incoherently 
 (still crying all the time), that Tilly was quite horrified. 
 
 "Ow if you please don't! " said Tilly. "It's enoug 
 to dead and bury the Baby, so it is, if you please. " 
 
 "Will you bring him sometimes, to see his fathe 
 Tilly," inquired her mistress; drying her eyes; "when 
 can't live here, and have gone to my old home! " 
 
 "Ow if you please don't! " cried Tilly, throwing back 
 her head, and bursting out into a howl ; she looked at 
 the moment uncommonly like Boxer ; " Ow if you please 
 don't! Ow, what has everybody gone and been and 
 done with everybody, making everybody else so 
 wretched! Ow-w-w-w!" 
 
 , 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 89 
 
 The soft-hearted Slowboy trailed off into such a de- 
 plorable howl that she must infallibly have awakened 
 the Baby, if her eyes had not encountered Caleb Plum- 
 mer, leading in his daughter. This spectacle restoring 
 her to a sense of the proprieties, she stood for some few 
 moments silent, with her mouth wide open. 
 
 "Mary ! " said Bertha. "Not at the marriage ! " 
 
 "I told her you would not be there, Mum," whispered 
 Caleb. "I heard as much last night. But bless you," 
 said the little man, taking her tenderly by both hands, 
 "J don't care for what they say ; J don't believe them. 
 There an't much of me, but that little should be torn to 
 pieces sooner than I'd trust a word against you! " 
 
 He put his arms about her neck and hugged her, as a 
 child might have hugged one of his own dolls. 
 
 "Bertha couldn't stay at home this morning, " said 
 Caleb. " She was afraid, I know, to hear the Bells ring : 
 and couldn't trust herself to be so near them on their 
 wedding-day. So we started in good time, and came 
 here. I have been thinking of what I have done," said 
 Caleb, after a moment's pause ; " I hav© been blaming 
 myself till I hardly knew what to do or where to turn, 
 for the distress of mind I have caused her; and I've 
 come to the conclusion that I'd better, if you'll stay with 
 me, Mum, the while, tell her the truth. You'll stay 
 with me the while ! " he inquired, trembling from head 
 to foot. "I don't know what effect it may have upon 
 her; I don't know what she'll think of me; I don't know 
 that she'll ever care for her poor father afterward. But 
 

 90 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 it's best for her that she should be undeceived; and I 
 must bear the consequences as I deserve ! " 
 
 "Mary," said Bertha, "where is your hand? Ah! 
 Here it is ; here it is ! " pressing it to her lips, with a 
 smile, and drawing it through her arm. " I heard them 
 speaking softly among themselves, last night, of some 
 blame against you. They were wrong." 
 
 The Carrier's Wife was silent. Caleb answered for 
 her. 
 
 "They were wrong," he said. 
 
 "I knew it!" cried Bertha, proudly. "I told them 
 so. I scorned to hear a word ! Blame her with justice ! n 
 she pressed the hand between her own, and the soft 
 cheek against her face. "No I I am not so blind as 
 that." 
 
 Her father went on one side of her, while Dot re- 
 mained upon the other : holding her hand. 
 
 "I know you all," said Bertha, "better than you 
 think. But none so well as her. Not even you, father. 
 There is nothing half so real and so true about me, as 
 she is. If I could be restored to sight this instant, and 
 not a word were spoken, I could choose her from a 
 crowd ! My Sister ! n 
 
 "Bertha, my dear!" said Caleb, "I have something 
 on my mind I want to tell you, while we three are alone. 
 Hear me kindly ! I have a confession to make to you, 
 my Darling. " 
 
 "A confession, father? " 
 
 "I have wandered from the Truth and lost myself, 
 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 91 
 
 % 
 
 my child," said Caleb, with a pitiable expression in 
 his bewildered face. "I have wandered from the 
 Truth, intending to be kind to yon; and have been 
 cruel. " 
 
 She turned her wonder-stricken face toward him, and 
 repeated " Cruel ! " 
 
 "He accuses himself too strongly, Bertha," said Dot. 
 "You'll say so, presently. You'll be the first to tell 
 him so." 
 
 "He cruel to me! " cried Bertha, with a smile of in- 
 credulity. 
 
 "£Tot meaning it, my child," said Caleb. "But I have 
 been ; though I never suspected it, till yesterday. My 
 dear Blind Daughter, hear me and forgive me! The 
 world you live in, heart of mine, doesn't exist as I have 
 represented it. The eyes you have trusted in, have been 
 false to you." 
 
 She turned her wonder-stricken face toward him still ; 
 but drew back, and clung closer to her friend. 
 
 "Your road in life was rough, my poor one," said 
 Caleb, "and I meant to smoothe it for you. I have 
 altered objects, changed the characters of people, in- 
 vented many things that never have been, to make you 
 happier. I have had concealments from you, put decep- 
 tions on you, God forgive me ! and surrounded you with 
 fancies." 
 
 "But living people are not fancies?" she said, hur- 
 riedly, and turning very pale, and still retiring from 
 him. "You can't change them." 
 
92 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 * 
 
 "I have done so, Bertha," pleaded Caleb. "There is 
 one person that you know, my Dove " 
 
 "Oh, father! why do yon say, I know?" she an- 
 swered, in a tone of keen reproach. " What and whom 
 do I know? I who have no leader! I so miserably 
 blind ! " 
 
 In the anguish of her heart, she stretched out her 
 hands, as if she were groping her way; then spread 
 them, in a manner most forlorn and sad, upon hei 
 face. 
 
 "The marriage that takes place to-day," said Caleb, 
 " is with a stern, sordid, grinding man. A hard master 
 to you and me, my dear, for many years. Ugly in his 
 looks, and in his nature. Cold and callous always. 
 Unlike what I have painted him to you in everything, 
 my child. In everything." 
 
 "Oh, why," cried the Blind Girl, tortured, as it 
 seemed, almost beyond endurance, "why did you ever 
 do this ! Why did you ever fill my heart so full, and 
 then come in like Death, and tear away the objects of 
 my love ! Oh, Heaven, how blind I am ! How helpless 
 and alone ! " 
 
 Her afflicted father hung his head, and offered no 
 reply but in his penitence and sorrow. 
 
 She had been but a short time in this passion of re- 
 gret, when the Cricket on the Hearth, unheard by all 
 but her, began to chirp. Not merrily, but in a low, 
 faint, sorrowing way. It was so mournful, that her 
 tears began to flow ; and when the Presence which had 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 93 
 
 been beside the Carrier all night, appeared behind her, 
 pointing to her father, they fell down like rain. 
 
 She heard the Cricket- voice more plainly soon ; and 
 was conscious, through her blindness, of the Presence 
 hovering about her father. 
 
 "Mary," said the Blind Girl, "tell me what my Home 
 is. What it truly is. " 
 
 " It is a poor place, Bertha ; very poor and bare in- 
 deed. The house will scarcely keep out wind and rain 
 another winter. It is as roughly shielded from the 
 weather, Bertha," Dot continued in a low, clear voice, 
 "as your poor father in his sackcloth coat." 
 
 The Blind Girl, greatly agitated, rose, and led the 
 Carrier's little wife aside. 
 
 "Those presents that I took such care of, that came 
 almost at my wish, and were so dearly welcome to me, " 
 she said, trembling ; " where did they come from f Did 
 you send them f " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Who, then 1 * 
 
 Dot saw she knew, already; and was silent. The 
 Blind Girl spread her hands before her face again. But 
 in quite another manner now. 
 
 "Dear Mary, a moment. One moment! More this 
 way. Speak softly to me. You are true, I know 
 You'd not deceive me now; would you? " 
 
 "No, Bertha, indeed!" 
 
 "No, I am sure you would not. You have too much 
 pity for me. Mary, look across the room to where we 
 
9-t THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 \rere just now; to where my father is — my father, so 
 compassionate and loving to me—and tell me what you 
 see." 
 
 "I see," said Dot, who understood her well; "an old 
 man sitting in a chair, and leaning sorrowfully on the 
 back, with his face resting on his hand. As if his child 
 should comfort him, Bertha." 
 
 "Yes, yes. She will. Go on." 
 
 " He is an old man, worn with care and work. He is 
 a spare, dejected, thoughtful, gray-haired man. I see 
 him now, despondent and bowed down, and striving 
 against nothing. But Bertha, I have seen him many 
 times before ; and striving hard in many ways for one 
 great sacred object. And I honor his gray head, and 
 bless him ! " 
 
 The Blind Girl broke away from her ; and throwing 
 herself upon her knees before him, took the gray head 
 to her breast. 
 
 "It is my sight restored. It is my sight! " she cried. 
 u I have been blind, and now my eyes are open. I never 
 knew him ! To think I might have died, and never 
 truly seen the father who has been so loving to me ! " 
 
 There were no words for Caleb's emotion. 
 
 "There is not a gallant figure on this earth," ex- 
 claimed the Blind Girl, holding him in her embrace, 
 "that I would love so dearly, and would cherish so de- 
 votedly, as this! The grayer, and more worn, the 
 dearer, father ! Never let them say I am blind again. 
 There's not a furrow in his face, there's not a hair upon 
 
THE CRICKET OK THE HEARTH. 95 
 
 his head, that shall be forgotten in my prayers and 
 thanks to Heaven ! " 
 
 Caleb managed to articulate "My Bertha!" 
 "And in my Blindness, I believed him," said the girl, 
 caressing him with tears of exquisite affection, "to be so 
 different ! And having him beside me, day by day, so 
 mindful of me always, never dreamed of this ! " 
 
 "The fresh, smart father in the blue coat, Bertha," 
 Baid poor Caleb. " He's gone ! " 
 
 "Nothing is gone," she answered. "Dearest father, 
 no! Everything is here — in you. The father that I 
 loved so well ; the father that I never loved enough, and 
 never knew ; the Benefactor whom I first began to rever- 
 ence and love, because he had such sympathy for me. 
 All are here in you. Nothing is dead to me. The Soul 
 nC all that was most dear to me is here — here, with the 
 worn face, and the gray head. And I am not blind, 
 father, any longer ! " 
 
 Dot's whole attention had been concentrated, during 
 dl\is discourse, upon the father and daughter ; but look- 
 ing, now, toward the little Haymaker in the Moorish 
 meadow, she saw that the clock was within a few min- 
 utes of striking; and fell, immediately, into a nervous 
 and excited state. 
 
 "Father," said Bertha, hesitating. "Mary." 
 "Yes, my dear," returned Caleb. "Here she is." 
 " There is no change in her. You never told me any- 
 thing of her that was not true f " 
 
 "I should have done it, my dear, I am afraid, "re- 
 
96 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 turned Caleb, " if I could have made her better than she 
 was. But I must have changed her for the worse, if I 
 changed her at all. ^Nothing could improve her, Bertha. " 
 
 Confident as the Blind Girl had been when she asked 
 the question, her delight and pride in the reply, and her 
 renewed embrace of Dot, were charming to behold. 
 
 "More changes than you think for may happen, 
 though, my dear," said Dot. "Changes for the better, 
 I mean; changes for great joy to some of us. You 
 mustn't let them startle you too much, if any such should 
 ever happen, and affect you! Are those wheels upon 
 the road? You've a quick ear, Bertha. Are they 
 wheels?" 
 
 "Yes. Coming very fast." 
 
 "I — I — I know you have a quick ear," said Dot, plac- 
 ing her hand upon her heart, and evidently talking on, 
 as fast as she could, to hide its palpitating state, "be- 
 cause I have noticed it often, and because you were so 
 quick to find out that strange step last night. Though 
 why you should have said, as I very well recollect you 
 did say, Bertha, 'whose step is that!' and why you 
 should have taken any greater observation of it than of 
 any other step, I don't know. Though, as I said just 
 now, there are great changes in the world: great 
 changes: and we can't do better than prepare ourselves 
 to be surprised at hardly anything. " 
 
 Caleb wondered what this meant ; perceiving she spoke 
 to him, no less than to his daughter. He saw her, with 
 
 astonishment, so fluttered and distressed that she could 
 
 7 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 97 
 
 scarcely breathe ; and holding to a chair, to save herself 
 from falling. 
 
 "They are wheels indeed!" she panted, "coming 
 nearer ! Nearer ! Very close ! And now you hear them 
 stopping at the garden gate ! And now you hear a step 
 outside the door — the same step, Bertha, is it not ! — and 
 now ! " 
 
 She uttered a wild cry of uncontrollable delight ; and 
 running up to Caleb put her hands upon his eyes, as a 
 young man rushed into the room, and flinging away his 
 hat into the air, came sweeping down upon them. 
 
 "Is it over? " cried Dot. 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "Happily over?" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did you 
 ever hear the like of it before ! " cried Dot. 
 
 "If my boy in the Golden South Americas was 
 alive " said Caleb, trembling. 
 
 "He is alive!" shrieked Dot, removing her hands 
 from his eyes, and clapping them in ecstasy ; " look at 
 him! See where he stands before you, healthy and 
 strong! Your own dear son! Your own dear living, 
 loving brother, Bertha ! " 
 
 All honor to the little creature for her transports! 
 All honor to her tears and laughter, when the three were 
 locked in one another's arms! All honor to the hearti- 
 ness with which she met the sunburnt Sailor-fellow, with 
 his dark streaming hair, half way, and never turned her 
 
9S THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 rosy little mouth aside, but suffered him to kiss it, 
 freely, and to press her to his bounding heart! 
 
 And honor to the Cuckoo, too — why not ! — for burst- 
 ing out of the trap -door in the Moorish Palace like a 
 housebreaker, and hiccoughing twelve times on the as- 
 sembled company, as if he had got drunk for joy! 
 
 The Carrier, entering, started back; and well he 
 
 - 
 
 might : to find himself in such good company. 
 
 "Look, John!" said Caleb, exultingly, "look here! 
 My own boy from the Golden South Americas! My 
 own son ! Him that you fitted out, and sent away your- 
 self ; him that you were always such a friend to ! " 
 
 The Carrier advanced to seize him by the hand ; but 
 recoiling, as some feature in his face awakened a remem- 
 brance of the Deaf Man in the Cart, said : 
 
 " Edward ! Was it you f " | 
 
 "Now tell him all!" cried Dot. "Tell him all, Ed- 
 ward; and don't spare me, for nothing shall make me' 
 spare myself in his eyes, ever again." 
 
 "I was the man," said Edward. 
 
 "And could you steal, disguised, into the house of 
 your old friend?" rejoined the Carrier. "There was a 
 frank boy once — how many years is it, Caleb, since we 
 heard that he was dead, and had it proved, we thought? 
 — who never would have done that. " 
 
 "There was a generous friend of mine, once; more a 
 father to me than a friend, " said Edward, " who never 
 would have judged me, or any other man, unheard. 
 You were he. So I am certain you will hear me now." 
 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 99 
 
 The Carrier, with a troubled glance at Dot, who still 
 kept far away from him, replied, "Well ! that's but fair. 
 I will." 
 
 "You must know that when I left here, a boy," said 
 Edward, "I was in love; and my love was returned. 
 She was a very young girl, who perhaps (you may tell 
 me) didn't know her own mind. But I knew mine; and 
 I had a passion for her." 
 
 " You had ! " exclaimed the Carrier. " You I n 
 
 "Indeed I had," returned the other. "And she re- 
 turned it. I have ever since believed she did; and now 
 I am sure she did." 
 
 "Heaven help me ! " said the Carrier. "This is worse 
 than all." "Constant to her," said Edward, "and re- 
 turning, full of hope, after many hardships and perils, 
 to redeem my part of our old contract, I heard, twenty 
 miles away, that she was false to me ; that she had for- 
 gotten me ; and had bestowed herself upon another and 
 a richer man. I had no mind to reproach her ; but I 
 wished to see her, and to prove beyond dispute that this 
 was true. I hoped she might have been forced into it, 
 against her own desire and recollection. It would be 
 small comfort, but it would be some, I thought : and on 
 I came. That I might have the truth, the real truth, I 
 dressed myself unlike myself — you know how; and 
 waited on the road — you know where. You had no 
 suspicion of me; neither had — had she," pointing to 
 Dot, "until I whispered in her ear at that fireside, and 
 she so nearly betrayed me." 
 
100 
 
 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 
 "But when she knew that Edward was alive, and had 
 come back," sobbed Dot, now speaking for herself, as 
 she had burned to do, all through this narrative; "and 
 when she knew his purpose, she advised him by all 
 means to keep his secret close ; for his old friend John 
 Peerybingle was too 
 open in his nature, 
 and too clumsy in all 
 artifice — being a 
 clumsy man in gen- 
 eral," said Dot, half 
 laughing and half cry- 
 ing — "to keep it for 
 him. And when she 
 — that's me, John," 
 sobbed the little wo- 
 man — " told him all, 
 and how his sweetheart 
 had believed him to be 
 dead; and how she had at last been over-persuaded 
 by her mother into a marriage which the silly dear 
 old thing called advantageous; and when she — that's 
 me again, John — told him they were not yet mar- 
 ried (though close upon it), and that it would be 
 nothing but a sacrifice if it went on, for there was no 
 lo^e on her side ; aud when he went nearly mad with joy 
 to hear it ; then she — that's me again — said she would go 
 between them, as she had often done before in old times, 
 John, and would sound his sweetheart and be sure that 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 101 
 
 what she — me again, John — said and thought was right. 
 And it was right, John. And they were brought to- 
 gether, John! And they were married, John, an hour 
 ago! And here's the Bride! And Gruff and Tackleton 
 may die a bachelor! And I'm a happy little woman, 
 May, God bless you ! " 
 
 She was an irresistible little woman, if that be any- 
 thing to the purpose ; and never so completely irresisti- 
 ble as in her present transports. There never were con- 
 gratulations so endearing and delicious, as those she 
 lavished on herself and on the Bride. 
 
 Amid the tumult of emotions in his breast the honest 
 Carrier had stood, confounded. Flying, now, toward 
 her, Dot stretched out her hand to stop him, and re- 
 treated as before. 
 
 "No, John, no! Hear all! Don't love me any more, 
 John, till you've heard every word I have to say. It 
 was wrong to have a secret from you, John. I'm very 
 sorry. I didn't think it any harm, till I came and sat 
 down by you on the little stool last night ; but when I 
 knew by what was written in your face, that you had 
 seen me walking in the gallery with Edward : and knew 
 what you thought; I felt how giddy and how wrong it 
 was. But oh, dear John, how could you, could you, 
 think so ! " 
 
 Little woman, how she sobbed again! John Peery 
 bingle would have caught her in his arms. But no ; she 
 wouldn't let him. 
 
 "Don't love me yet, please, John I Not for a long 
 
102 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 time yet! When I was sad about this intended mar- 
 riage, dear, it was because I remembered May and Ed- 
 ward such young lovers, and knew that her heart was 
 far away from Tackleton. You believe that, now. 
 Don't you, John?" 
 
 John was going to make another rush at this appeal ; 
 but she stopped him again. 
 
 "No; keep there, please, John! When I laugh at 
 you, as I sometimes do, John ; and call you clumsy, and 
 a dear old goose, and names of that sort, it's because I 
 love you, John, so well ; and take such pleasure in your 
 ways; and wouldn't see you altered in the least respect 
 to have you made a King to-morrow." 
 
 "Hooroar!" said Caleb, with unusual vigor. "My 
 opinion ! " 
 
 "And when I speak of people being middle-aged and 
 steady, John, and pretend that we are a humdrum 
 couple, going on in a jogtrot sort of way, it's only be- 
 cause I'm such a silly little thing, John, that I like, 
 sometimes, to act a kind of Play with Baby, and all that: 
 and make believe. " 
 
 She saw that he was coming ; and stopped him again. 
 But she was very nearly too late. 
 
 "No, don't love me for another minute or two, if you 
 please, John! What I want most to tell you, I have 
 kept to the last. My dear, good, generous John ; when 
 we were talking the other night about the Cricket, I had 
 it on my lips to say, that at first I did not love you quite 
 so dearly as I do now ; that when I first came home here, 
 

 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 103 
 
 I was half afraid I mightn't learn to love you every bit 
 as well as I hoped and prayed I might — being so very 
 young, John. But, dear John, every day and hour, I 
 loved you more and more. And if I could have loved 
 you better than I do, the noble words I heard you say 
 this morning would have made me. But I can't. All 
 the affection that I had (it was a great deal, John) I 
 gave you, as you well deserve, long, long ago, and I 
 have no more left to give. Now, my dear Husband, 
 take me to your heart again 1 That's my home, John; 
 and never, never think of sending me to any other 1 * 
 
 You may be sure the Carrier was in a state of perfect 
 rapture; and you may be sure Dot was likewise: and 
 you may be sure they all were, inclusive of Miss Slow- 
 boy. 
 
 But now the sound of wheels was heard again outside 
 the door ; and somebody exclaimed that Gruff and Tack- 
 leton was coming back. Speedily that worthy gentleman 
 appeared ; looking warm and flustered. 
 
 "Why, what the Devil's this, John Peery bingle ! " 
 said Tackleton. "There's some mistake. I appointed 
 Mrs. Tackleton to meet me at the church ; and I'll swear 
 I passed her on the road, on her way here. Oh ! here 
 she is! I beg your pardon, Sir; I haven't the pleasure 
 of knowing you ; but if you can do me the favor to spare 
 this young lady, she has rather a particular engagement 
 this morning. " 
 
 "But I can't spare her," returned Edward. "I 
 couldn't think of it. " 
 
104 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 " What do you mean, you vagabond ! " said Tackleton. 
 
 " I mean, that as I can make allowance for your being 
 vexed, " returned the other, with a smile, " I am as deaf 
 to harsh discourse this morning, as I was to all discourse 
 last night. I am sorry, Sir," said Edward, holding out 
 May's left hand, and especially the third finger, "that 
 the young lady can't accompany you to church; but as 
 she has been there once, this morning, perhaps you'll 
 excuse her." 
 
 Tackleton looked hard at the third finger ; and took a 
 little piece of silver paper, apparently containing a ring, 
 from his waistcoat pocket. 
 
 "Miss Slowboy," said Tackleton. "Will you have 
 the kindness to throw that in the fire? Thank 'ee." 
 
 "It was a previous engagement: quite an old engage- 
 ment ; that prevented my wife from keeping her appoint- 
 ment with you, I assure you, " said Edward. 
 
 "Mr. Tackleton will do me the justice to acknowledge 
 that I revealed it to him faithfully ; and that I told him, 
 many times, I never could forget it, n said May, blush- 
 ing. 
 
 "Oh, certainly!" said Tackleton. "Oh, to be sure. 
 Oh, it's all right. It's quite correct. Mrs. Edward 
 Plummer, I infer ! " 
 
 "That's the name," returned the bridegroom. 
 
 "Ah! I shouldn't have known you, Sir," said Tack- 
 leton : scrutinizing his face narrowly, and making a low 
 bow. "I give you joy, Sir!" 
 
 "Thank'ee." 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 105 
 
 "Mrs. Peerybingle," said Tackleton, turning suddenly 
 to where she stood with her husband: "I am sorry. 
 You haven't done me a very great kindness, but upon 
 my life I am sorry. You are better than I thought you. 
 John Peerybingle, I am sorry. You understand me; 
 that's enough. It's quite correct, ladies and gentlemen 
 all, and perfectly satisfactory. Good morning ! " 
 
 With these words he carried it off, and carried himself 
 off too : merely stopping at the door, to take the flowers 
 and favors from his horse's head, and to kick that ani- 
 mal once in the ribs, as a means of informing him that 
 there was a screw loose in his arrangements. 
 
 Of course it became a serious duty now, to make such 
 a day of it, as should mark these events for a high Feast 
 and Festival in the Peerybingle Calendar for evermore. 
 Accordingly, Dot went to work to produce such an en- 
 tertainment, as should reflect uudying honor on the 
 house and every one concerned; and in a very short 
 space of time she was up to her dimpled elbows in flour, 
 and whitening the Carrier's coat, every time he came 
 near her, by stopping him to give him a kiss. That 
 good fellow washed the greens, and peeled the turnips, 
 and broke the plates, and upset iron pots full of cold 
 water on the fire, and made himself useful in all sorts of 
 ways : while a couple of professional assistants, hastily 
 called in from somewhere in the neighborhood, as on a 
 point of life or death, ran against each other in all the 
 doorways and round all the corners; and everybody 
 tumbled over Tilly Slowboy and the Baby, everywhere. 
 
106 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 Then, there was a great Expedition set on foot to go 
 and find ont Mrs. Fielding ; and to be dismally penitent 
 to that excellent gentlewoman ; and to bring her back, 
 by force if needful, to be happy and forgiving. And 
 when the Expedition first discovered her, she would 
 listen to no terms at all, bat said, an unspeakable num- 
 ber of times, that ever she should have lived to see the 
 day! and couldn't be got to say anything else, except 
 "Now carry me to the grave " ; which seemed absurd, on 
 account of her not being dead, or anything at all like it. 
 After a time, she lapsed into a state of dreadful calm- 
 ness. From this mood, she passed into an angry one, 
 and after that, she yielded to a soft regret, and said, if 
 they had only given her their confidence, what might she 
 not have had it in her power to suggest ! Taking advan- 
 tage of this crisis in her feelings, the Expedition em- 
 braced her ; and she very soon had her gloves on, and 
 was on her way to John Peerybingle's in a state of un- 
 impeachable gentility ; with a paper parcel at her side 
 containing a cap of state, almost as tall, and quite as 
 stiff, as a Mitre. 
 
 Then, there were Dot's father and mother to come, in 
 another little chaise ; and they were behind their time ; 
 and there was much looking out for them down the road. 
 At last they came, a chubby little couple, jogging along 
 in a snug and comfortable little way that quite belonged 
 to the Dot family; and Dot and her mother, side by 
 side, were wonderful to see. They were so like each 
 other. 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 107 
 
 I wouldn't have missed Dot doing the honors in her 
 wedding-gown for any money. No ! nor the good Car- 
 rier, so jovial and so ruddy, at the bottom of the table. 
 Nor the brown, fresh sailor-fellow, and his handsome 
 wife. Nor any one among them. To have missed the 
 dinner would have been to miss as jolly a meal as man 
 need eat ; and to have missed the overflowing cups in 
 which they drank The Wedding Day, would have been 
 the greatest miss of all. 
 
 After dinner, Caleb sang the song about the Sparkling 
 Bowl! And, by -the -by, a most unlooked-for incident 
 occurred, just as he finished the last verse. 
 
 There was a tap at the door ; and a man came stag- 
 gering in, without saying by your leave, with something 
 heavy on his head. Setting this down in the middle of the 
 table, symmetrically in the centre of the nuts and apples, 
 he said, "Mr. Tackleton's compliments, and as he hasn't 
 got no use for the cake himself, p'raps you'll eat it." 
 
 And with those words, he walked off. 
 
 There was some surprise among the company, as you 
 may imagine ; but the cake was cut by May, with much 
 ceremony and rejoicing. 
 
 I don't think any one had tasted it, when there came 
 another tap at the door ; and the same man appeared 
 again, having under his arm a vast brown paper parcel. 
 
 "Mr. Tackleton's compliments, and he's sent a few 
 toys for the Babby. They ain't ugly." 
 
 After the delivery of which expressions, he retired 
 again. 
 
108 
 
 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 
 The whole 
 party would have 
 experienced great 
 difficulty in find- 
 ing words for 
 their astonish- 
 ment, even if 
 they had had am- 
 ple time to seek 
 them. But they 
 had none at all; 
 for the messenger 
 had scarcely shut 
 the door behind 
 him, when there 
 came another 
 tap, and Tackle- 
 ton himself 
 walked in. 
 
 " Mrs. Peery- 
 bingle ! " said the 
 Toy Merchant, 
 hat in hand. "I'm 
 sorry. I'm more 
 sorry than I was 
 this morning. I 
 have had time to think of it. John Peerybingle! 
 I'm sour by disposition ; but I can't help being sweet- 
 ened, more or less, by coming face to face with such 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 109 
 
 a man as you. Caleb ! This- unconscious little nurse 
 gave me a broken hint last night, of which I have 
 found the thread. I blush to think how easily I might 
 have bound you and your daughter to me; and what 
 a miserable idiot I was, when I took her for one! 
 Friends, one and all, my house is very lonely to-night. 
 I have not so much as a Cricket on my Hearth. I have 
 scared them ali away. Let me join this happy party ! " 
 
 He was at home in five minutes. You never saw such 
 a fellow. What had he been doing with himself all his 
 life, never to have known, before, his great capacity of 
 being jovial ! Or what had the Fairies been doing with 
 him, to have effected such a change ! 
 
 "John! you won't send me home this evening; will 
 you ! " whispered Dot. 
 
 There wanted but one living creature to make the 
 party complete ; and, in the twinkling of an eye there 
 he was : very thirsty with hard running, and engaged in 
 hopeless endeavors to squeeze his head into a narrow 
 pitcher. He had gone with the cart to its journey 's- 
 end, very much disgusted with the absence of his master, 
 and stupendously rebellious to the Deputy. After lin- 
 gering about the stable for some little time, vainly at- 
 tempting to incite the old horse to the mutinous act of 
 returning on his own account, he had walked into the 
 tap -room and laid himself down before the fire. But 
 suddenly yielding to the conviction that the Deputy 
 was a humbug, and must be abandoned, he had got up 
 again, turned tail and came home. 
 
110 
 
 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 
 There was a dance in the evening. With which 
 general mention of that recreation, I should have 
 left it alone, if I had not some reason to suppose 
 that it was quite an original dance, and one of a most 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
 / / 
 
 TpmiiuuniHilllHI 
 
 L""iiii|IUHIUIUIIlllllllUlllllUllillU>ailllllll 
 
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. Ill 
 
 uncommon figure. It was formed in an odd way; in 
 this way. 
 
 Edward, that sailor-fellow — a good free dashing sort 
 of a fellow he was — had been telling them various mar- 
 vels concerning parrots, and mines, and Mexicans, and 
 gold dust, when all at once he took into his head to 
 jump up from his seat and propose a dance ; for Bertha's 
 harp was there, and she had such a hand upon it as you 
 seldom hear. Dot (sly little piece of affectation when 
 she chose) said her dancing days were over; I think be- 
 cause the Carrier was smoking his pipe, and she liked 
 sitting by him, best. Mrs. Fielding had no choice, of 
 course, but to say her dancing days were over, after that ; 
 and everybody said the same, except May; May was 
 ready. 
 
 So, May and Edward get up, amid great applause, to 
 dance alone ; and Bertha plays her liveliest tune. 
 
 Well! if you'll believe me, they have not been 
 dancing five minutes, when suddenly the Carrier 
 flings his pipe away, takes Dot round the waist, 
 dashes out into the room, and starts off with her, 
 toe and heel, quite wonderfully. Tackleton no sooner 
 sees this, than he skims across to Mrs. Fielding, takes 
 her round the waist, and follows suit. Old Dot no 
 sooner sees this, than up he is, all alive, whisks off 
 Mrs. Dot into the middle of the dance, and is the 
 foremost there. Caleb no sooner sees this, than he 
 clutches Tilly Slowboy by both hands and goes off at 
 score. 
 
112 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 Hark! how the Cricket joins the music with its Chirp, 
 Chirp, Chirp ; and how the kettle hums ! 
 
 v'-< *1* vjv v> vU »A» vl* 
 
 ^y* *y* «X* *T* *T* *T* ^^ 
 
 But what is this ! Even as I listen to them, blithely, 
 and turn toward Dot, for one last glimpse of a little 
 figure very pleasant to me, she and the rest have van- 
 ished into air, and I am left alone. A Cricket sings 
 upon the Hearth; a broken child's toy lies upon the 
 ground; and nothing else remains. 
 
CAPTAIN" EICHAED DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 In the year one thousand seven hundred and ninety* 
 nine, a relative of mine came limping down, on foot, to 
 this town of Chatham. I call it this town, because if 
 anybody present knows to a nicety where Eochester ends 
 and Chatham begins, it is more than I do. He was a 
 poor traveller, with not a farthing in his pocket. He 
 sat by the fire in this very room, and he slept one night 
 in a bed that will be occupied to-night by some one 
 here. 
 
 My relative came down to Chatham to enlist in a cav- 
 alry regiment, if a cavalry regiment would have him ; if 
 not, to take King George's shilling from any corporal or 
 sergeant who would put a bunch of ribbons in his hat. 
 His object was to get shot; but he thought he might as 
 well ride to death as be at the trouble of walking. 
 
 My relative's Christian name was Eichard, but he was 
 better known as Dick. He dropped his own surname 
 on the road down, and took up that of Doubledick. 
 He was passed as Eichard Doubledick ; age, twenty-two ; 
 height, five foot ten ; native place, Exmouth, which he 
 had never been near in his life. There was no cavalry 
 in Chatham when he limped over the bridge here with 
 half a shoe to his dusty feet, so he enlisted into a regi 
 
114 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 ment of the line, and was glad to get drunk and forget 
 all about it. 
 
 You are to know that this relative of mine had gone 
 wrong, and run wild. He had been betrothed to a good 
 and beautiful girl, whom he had loved better than she — 
 or perhaps even he — believed; but in an evil hour he 
 had given her cause to say to him solemnly, "Eichard, I 
 will never marry another man. I will live single for 
 your sake, but Mary Marshall's lips" — her name was 
 Mary Marshall — " never address another word to you on 
 earth. Go, Eichard ! Heaven forgive you ! n This fin- 
 ished him. This brought him down to Chatham. This 
 made him Private Eichard Doubledick, with a deter- 
 mination to be shot. 
 
 There was not a more dissipated and reckless soldier 
 in Chatham barracks, in the year one thousand seven 
 hundred and ninety-nine, than Private Eichard Double- 
 dick. He associated with the dregs of every regiment ; 
 he was as seldom sober as he could be, and was con- 
 stantly under punishment. It became clear to the whole 
 barracks that Private Eichard Doubledick would very 
 soon be flogged. 
 
 Now the Captain of Eichard Doubledick 's company 
 was a young gentleman not above five years his senior, 
 whose eyes had an expression in them which affected 
 Private Eichard Doubledick in a very remarkable way. 
 They were bright, handsome, dark eyes, — what are 
 called laughing eyes generally, and, when serious, rather 
 steady than severe, — but they were the only eyes now 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 115 
 
 left in his narrowed world that Private Bichard Double- 
 click could not stand. Unabashed by evil report and 
 punishment, defiant of everything else and everybody 
 else, he had but to know that those eyes looked at him 
 for a moment, and he felt ashamed. He could not so 
 much as salute Captain Taunton in the street like any 
 other officer. He was reproached and confused, — 
 troubled by the mere possibility of the captain's looking 
 at him. In his worst moments, he would rather turn 
 back, and go any distance out of his way, than encounter 
 those two handsome, dark, bright eyes. 
 
 One day, when Private Eichard Doubledick came out of 
 the Black hole, where he had been passing the last eight- 
 and-forty hours, and in which retreat he spent a good 
 deal of his time, he was ordered to betake himself to 
 Captain Taunton's quarters. In the squalid state of [a 
 man just out of the Black hole, he had less fancy than 
 ever for being seen by the captain ; but he was not so 
 mad yet as to disobey orders, and consequently went up 
 to the terrace overlooking the parade-ground, where the 
 officers' quarters were; twisting and breaking in his 
 hands, as he went along, a bit of straw. 
 
 " Come in ! " cried the Captain, when he knocked with 
 his knuckles at the door. Private Eichard Doubledick 
 pulled off his cap, took a stride forward, and felt very 
 conscious that he stood in the light of the dark, bright 
 eyes. 
 
 There was a silent pause. Private Eichard Double- 
 dick had put the straw in his mouth, and was grad- 
 
116 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 ually doubling it up into his windpipe and choking 
 himself. 
 
 "Doublediek," said the Captain, "do you know where 
 you are going to ! " 
 
 "To the Devil, sir f " faltered Doublediek. 
 
 "Yes," returned the Captain. "And very fast." 
 
 Private Eichard Doublediek turned the straw in his 
 mouth, and made a miserable salute of acquiescence. 
 
 "Doublediek," said the Captain, "since I entered his 
 Majesty's service, a boy of seventeen, I have been pained 
 to see many men of promise going that road ; but I have 
 never been so pained to see a man determined to make 
 the shameful journey as I have been, ever since you 
 joined the regiment, to see you." 
 
 Private Eichard Doublediek began to find a film steal- 
 ing over the floor at which he looked ; also to find the 
 legs of the Captain's breakfast-table turning crooked. 
 
 "'I am only a common soldier, sir," said he. "It 
 signifies very little what such a poor brute comes to. " 
 
 "You are a man," returned the Captain, with grave 
 indignation, " of education and superior advantages ; and 
 if you say that, meaning what you say, you have sunk 
 lower than I had believed. How low that must be, I 
 leave you to consider, knowing that I know of your dis- 
 grace, and seeing what I see." 
 
 "I hope to get shot soon, sir," said Private Eichard 
 Doublediek; "and then the regiment and the world to- 
 gether will be rid of me." 
 
 The legs of the table were becoming very crooked. 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 117 
 
 Doubleclick, looking up to steady his vision, met the eyes 
 that had so strong an influence over him. He put his 
 hand before his own eyes, and the breast of his disgrace- 
 jacket swelled as if 
 it would fly asunder. 
 
 "I would rather," 
 said the young Cap- 
 tain, "see this in you, 
 Doubledick, than I 
 would see five thou- 
 sand guineas counted 
 out upon this table 
 for a gift to my good 
 mother. Have you a 
 mother?" 
 
 "I am thankful to 
 say she is dead, sir." 
 
 "If your praises," 
 returned the Captain, 
 "were sounded from 
 mouth to mouth 
 through the whole 
 
 regiment, through the whole army, through the whole 
 country, you would wish she had lived to say, with pride 
 and joy, 'He is my son ! > " 
 
 "Spare me, sir," said Doubledick. "She would never 
 have heard any good of me. She would never have had 
 any pride and joy in owning herself my mother. Love 
 and compassion she might have had, and would have 
 
118 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 always had, I know ; but not — " And he turned his face 
 to the wall, and stretched out his imploring hand. 
 
 "My friend — " began the Captain. 
 
 "God bless you, sir ! " sobbed Private Richard Double- 
 dick. 
 
 "You are at the crisis of your fate. Hold your course 
 unchanged a little longer, and you know what must hap- 
 pen. I know even better than you can imagine, that, 
 after that has happened, you are lost. No man who could 
 shed those tears could bear those marks. " 
 
 "I fully believe it, sir," in a low, shivering voice said 
 Private Eichard Doubledick. 
 
 "But a man in any station can do his duty," said the 
 young Captain, "and, in doing it, can earn his own re- 
 spect, even if his case should be so very unfortunate and 
 so very rare that he can earn no other man's. A com- 
 mon soldier, poor brute though you called him just now, 
 has this advantage in the stormy times we live in, that 
 he always does his duty before a host of sympathizing 
 witnesses. Do you doubt that he may so do it as to be 
 extolled through a whole regiment, through a whole 
 army, through a whole country? Turn while you may 
 yet retrieve the past, and try." 
 
 "I will! I ask for only one witness, sir," cried Rich- 
 ard, with a bursting heart. 
 
 "I understand you. I will be a watchful and a faith- 
 ful one." 
 
 I have heard from Private Richard Doubledick's own 
 lips, that he dropped down upon his knee, kissed that 
 

 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 119 
 
 officer's hand, arose, and went out of the light of the 
 dark, bright eyes, an altered man. 
 
 In that year, one thousand seven hundred and ninety- 
 nine, the French were in Egypt, in Italy, in Germany, 
 where not? Napoleon Bonaparte had likewise begun to 
 stir against us in India, and most men could read the 
 signs of the great troubles that were coming on. In the 
 very next year, when we formed an alliance with Aus- 
 tria against him, Captain Taunton's regiment was on 
 service in India. And there was not a finer non-com- 
 missioned officer in it, — no, nor in the whole line — than 
 Corporal Eichard Doubledick. 
 
 In eighteen hundred and one, the Indian army were on 
 the coast of Egypt. Next year was the year of the proc- 
 lamation of the short peace, and they were recalled. It 
 had then become well known to thousands of men, that 
 wherever Captain Taunton, with the dark, bright eyes, 
 led, there, close to him, firm as a rock, true as the sun, 
 and brave as Mars, would be that famous soldier, Ser- 
 geant Biehard Doubledick. 
 
 Eighteen hundred and five, besides being the great 
 year of Trafalgar, was a year of hard fighting in India. 
 That year saw such wonders done by a Sergeant- 
 Ma j or, who cut his way single-handed through a solid 
 mass of men, recovered the colors of his regiment, which 
 had been seized from the hand of a poor boy shot through 
 the heart, and rescued his wounded Captain, who was 
 down, and in a very jungle of horses' hoofs and sabers, 
 — saw such wonders done, I say, by this brave Sergeant* 
 
120 
 
 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 
 Major, that he was specially made the bearer of the 
 colors he had won ; and Ensign Eichard Doubledick had 
 risen from the ranks. 
 
 Sorely cut up in every battle, but always reinforced 
 by the bravest of men, — for the fame of following the 
 
 old colors, shot through and through, which Ensign 
 Richard Doubledick had saved, inspired all breasts, — 
 this regiment fought its way through the Peninsular war, 
 up to the investment of Badajos in eighteen hundred and 
 twelve. Again and again it had been cheered through 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 121 
 
 the British ranks until the tears had sprung into men's 
 eyes at the mere hearing of the mighty British voice, so 
 exultant in their valor; and there was not a drummer - 
 boy but knew that wherever the two friends, Major 
 Taunton, with the dark, bright eyes, and Ensign Eich- 
 ard Doubledick, who was devoted to him, were seen to 
 go, there the boldest spirits in the English army became 
 wild to follow. 
 
 One day at Badajos — not in the great storming but in 
 repelling a hot sally of the besieged upon our men at 
 work in the trenches, who had given way — the two offi- 
 cers found themselves hurrying forward face to face 
 against a party of French infantry who made a stand. 
 There was an officer at their head, encouraging his men, 
 — a courageous handsome gallant officer of five-and- 
 thirty whom Doubledick saw hurriedly, almost momen- 
 tarily but saw well. He particularly noticed this officer 
 waving his sword, and rallying his men with an eager 
 and excited cry, when they fired in obedience to his ges- 
 ture and Major Taunton dropped. 
 
 It was over in ten minutes more, and Doubledick re- 
 turned to the spot where he had laid the best friend man 
 ever had on a coat spread upon the wet clay. Major 
 Taunton's uniform was opened at the breast, and on his 
 shirt were three little spots of blood. 
 
 "Dear Doubledick, " said he, "lam dying." 
 
 "For the love of Heaven, no! " exclaimed the other, 
 kneeling down beside him and passing his arm round 
 his neck to raise his head. "Taunton! My preserver, 
 
122 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOTTBLEDICK. 
 
 my guardian angel ! Truest, kindest of human beings \ 
 Taunton ! For God's sake ! " 
 
 The bright, dark eyes smiled upon him ; and the hand 
 he had kissed thirteen years ago laid itself fondly on his 
 breast. 
 
 "Write to my mother. You will see Home again. 
 Tell her how we became friends. It will comfort her, 
 as it comforts me. " 
 
 He spoke no more, but faintly signed for a moment 
 toward his hair as it fluttered in the wind. The Ensign 
 understood him. He smiled again when he saw that, 
 and, gently turning his face over on the supporting arm 
 as if for rest, died with his hand upon the breast in 
 which he had revived a soul. 
 
 No dry eye looked on Ensign Eichard Doubledick that 
 melancholy day. He buried his friend on the field, and 
 became a lone, bereaved man. Beyond his duty he ap- 
 peared to have but two remaining cares in life, — one to 
 preserve the little packet of hair he was to give to Taun- 
 ton's mother; the other, to encounter that French officer 
 who had rallied the men under whose fire Taunton fell. 
 A new legend now began to circulate among our troops ; 
 and it was, that when he and the French officer came 
 face to face once more, there would be weeping in 
 France. 
 
 The war went on — and through it went the exact pict- 
 ure of the French officer on the one side, and the bodily 
 reality upon the other — until the Battle of Toulouse was 
 
 fought. In the returns sent home appeared these words: 
 10 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 123 
 
 "Severely wounded, but not dangerously, Lieutenant 
 Bichard Doubledick." 
 
 At Midsummer-time in the year eighteen hundred and 
 fourteen Lieutenant Eichard Doubledick now a browned 
 soldier seven- and- thirty years of age came home to Eng- 
 land invalided. He brought the hair with him near his 
 heart. Many a French officer had he seen since that day ; 
 many a dreadful night in searching with men and lan- 
 terns for his wounded had he relieved French officers 
 lying disabled; but the mental picture and the reality 
 had never come together. 
 
 Though he was weak and suffered pain, he lost not an 
 hour in getting down to Frome in Somersetshire, where 
 Taunton's mother lived. It was a Sunday evening, and 
 the lady sat at her quiet garden -window, reading the 
 Bible; reading to herself, in a trembling voice. He 
 heard the words: " Young man, I say unto thee, arise! " 
 
 He had to pass the window ; and the bright, dark eyes 
 of his debased time seemed to look at him. Her heart 
 told her who he was ; she came to the door quickly, and 
 fell upon his neck. 
 
 "He saved me from ruin, made me a human creature, 
 won me from infamy and shame. O, God for ever bless 
 him ! As He will ! " 
 
 "He will!" the lady answered. "I know he is in 
 Heaven ! " Then she piteously cried, " But, O my darl- 
 ing boy, my darling boy ! " 
 
 Kever from the hour when Private Eichard Doubledick 
 enlisted at Chatham had the Private, Corporal, Sergeant, 
 
124: CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 Sergeant-Major, Ensign, or Lieutenant breathed his 
 right name, or the name of Mary Marshall, or a word of 
 the story of his life, into any ear except his reclaimer's. 
 That previous scene in his existence was closed. He had 
 firmly resolved that his expiation should be to live un- 
 known; to disturb no more the peace that had long 
 grown over his old offences ; to let it be revealed, when 
 he was dead, that he had striven and suffered, and had 
 never forgotten ; and then, if they could forgive him and 
 believe him it would be time enough ! 
 
 But that night, remembering the words he had cher- 
 ished for two years, "Tell her how we became friends. 
 It will comfort her, as it comforts me, " he related every- 
 thing. It gradually seemed to him as if in his maturity 
 he had recovered a mother ; it gradually seemed to her 
 as if in her bereavement she had found a son. During 
 his stay in England, the quiet garden into which he had 
 slowly and painfully crept, a stranger, became the boun- 
 dary of his home; when he was able to rejoin his regi- 
 ment in the spring, he left the garden, thinking, was this 
 indeed the first time he had ever turned his face toward 
 the old colors with a woman's blessing! 
 
 He followed them — so ragged, so scarred and pierced 
 now, that they would scarcely hold together — to Quatre 
 Bras and Ligny. He stood beside them, in an awful 
 stillness of many men, shadowy through the mist and 
 drizzle of a wet June forenoon, on the field of Waterloo. 
 And down to that hour the picture in his mind of the 
 French officer had never been compared with the reality. 
 

 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 125 
 
 The famous regiment was in action early in the 
 battle, and received its first check in many an event- 
 ful year, when he was seen to fall. But it swept on 
 
 to avenge him, and left behind it no such creature in 
 the world of consciousness as Lieutenant Eichard 
 Doubleclick. 
 
 Through pits of mire, and pools of rain ; along roads, 
 that were pounded and ploughed to pieces by artillery, 
 tramp of men and horses, and the struggle of every 
 wheeled thing that could carry wounded soldiers; jolted 
 
126 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 among the dying and the dead, so disfigured by blood 
 and mud as to be hardly recognizable for humanity; 
 dead, as to any sentient life that was in it, and yet alive 
 — the form that had been Lieutenant Eichard Double- 
 dick, with whose praises England rang, was conveyed to 
 Brussels. There it was tenderly laid down in hospital; 
 and there it lay, week after week, through the long 
 bright summer days, until the harvest, spared by war, 
 had ripened and was gathered in. 
 
 Over and over again the sun rose and set upon the 
 crowded city ; over and over again the moonlight nights 
 were quiet on the plains of Waterloo : and all that time 
 was a blank to what had been Lieutenant Eichard 
 Doubledick. Eejoicing troops marched into Brussels, 
 and marched out ; brothers and fathers, sisters, mothers, 
 and wives, came thronging thither and departed ; indif- 
 ferent to all, a marble face lay on a bed, like the face of 
 a recumbent statue on the tomb of Lieutenant Eichard 
 Doubledick. 
 
 Slowly laboring, at last, through a long heavy dream 
 of confused time and place, presenting faint glimpses of 
 army surgeons whom he knew, and of faces that had 
 been familiar to his youth, — dearest and kindest amoug 
 them, Mary Marshall's, with a solicitude upon it more 
 like reality than anything he could discern, — Lieutenant 
 Eichard Doubledick came back to life ; to the peaceful 
 life of a fresh quiet room with a large window standing 
 open ; a balcony beyond, in which were moving leaves 
 and sweet -smelling flowers; beyond, again, the clear 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 127 
 
 sky, with the sun full in his sight, pouring its golden 
 radiance on his bed. 
 
 It was so tranquil and so lovely that he thought he had 
 passed into another world. And he said in a faint voice 
 1 1 Taunton, are you near me ! " 
 
 A face bent over him. Not his, his mother's. 
 
 " I came to nurse you. We have nursed you many 
 weeks. You were moved here long ago. Do you re- 
 member nothing \ " 
 
 " Nothing. " 
 
 The lady kissed his cheek, and hold his hand, soothing 
 him. 
 
 "Where is the regiment? What has happened? Let 
 me call you mother. What has happened, mother ? " 
 
 "A great victory, dear. The war is over, and the regi- 
 ment was the bravest in the field." 
 
 His eyes kindled, his lips trembled, and the tears ran 
 down his face. He was very weak, too weak to move 
 his hand. 
 
 "Was it dark just now? " he asked presently. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "It was only dark to me? Something passed away, 
 like a black shadow. But as it went, and the sun — O 
 the blessed sun, how beautiful it is ! — touched my face, I 
 thought I saw a light white cloud pass out at the door. 
 Was there nothing that went out ? " 
 
 She shook her head, and in a little while he fell asleep, 
 she still holding his hand, and soothing him. 
 
 From that time, he recovered — slowly, for he had been 
 
128 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDIOK. 
 
 desperately wounded in the head, and had been shot in 
 the body, but making some little advance every day. 
 When he had gained sufficient strength to converse as he 
 lay in bed, he soon began to remark that Mrs. Taunton 
 always brought him back to his own history. Then he 
 recalled his preserver's dying words, and thought, "It 
 
 « 
 
 comforts her." 
 
 One day he awoke out of a sleep, refreshed, and asked 
 her to read to him. But the curtain of the bed, soften- 
 ing the light, which she always drew back when he 
 awoke, that she might see him from her table at the 
 bedside where she sat at work, was held undrawn ; and 
 a woman's voice spoke, which was not hers. 
 
 "Can you bear to see a stranger ?" it said softly. 
 "Will you like to see a stranger? " 
 
 "Stranger! " he repeated. The voice awoke old mem- 
 ories, before the days of Private Eichard Doubleclick. 
 
 "A stranger now, but not a stranger once," it said in 
 tones that thrilled him. "Eichard, dear Eichard, lost 
 through so many years, my name — " 
 
 He cried out her name, "Mary," and she held him in 
 her arms, and his head lay on her bosom. 
 
 "I am not breaking a rash vow, Eichard. These are 
 not Mary Marshall's lips that speak. I have another 
 name." 
 
 She was married. 
 
 "I have another name, Eichard. Did you ever hear 
 it?" 
 
 "Never I * 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 129 
 
 He looked into her face, so pensively beautiful, and 
 wondered at the smile upon it through her tears. " Think 
 again, Richard. Are you sure you never heard my al- 
 tered name? " 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 "Don't move your head to look at me, dear Richard. 
 Let it lie here, while I tell my story. I loved a gener- 
 ous, noble man ; loved him with my whole heart ; loved 
 him for years ; loved him with no hope of return ; loved 
 him, knowing nothing of his highest qualities — not even 
 knowing that he was alive. He was a brave soldier. 
 He was honored and beloved by thousands of thousands, 
 when the mother of his dear friend found me, and 
 showed me that in all his triumphs he had never forgot- 
 ten me. He was wounded in a great battle. He was 
 brought, dying, here, into Brussels. I came to watch 
 and tend him, as I would have joyfully gone, with such 
 a purpose, to the dreariest ends of the earth. When he 
 knew no one else, he knew me. When he suffered most, 
 he bore his sufferings barely murmuring, content to rest 
 his head where yours rests now. When he lay at the 
 point of death, he married me, that he might call me 
 Wife before he died. And the name, my dear love, 
 that I took on that forgotten night — " 
 
 "I know it now! " he sobbed. "The shadowy remem- 
 brance strengthens. It is come back. I thank Heaven 
 that my mind is quite restored ! My Mary, kiss me ; lull 
 this weary head to rest, or I shall die of gratitude. His 
 parting words were fulfilled. I see Home again I n 
 

 130 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOIIBLEDICK. 
 
 They were happy. It was a long recovery, but they 
 were happy through it all. The snow had melted on the 
 ground, and the birds were singing in the leafless thick- 
 ets of the early spring, when those three were first able 
 to ride out together, and when people flocked about the 
 open carriage to cheer and congratulate Captain Richard 
 Doublediek. 
 
 But even then it became necessary for the Captain, in- 
 stead of returning to England, to complete his recovery 
 in the climate of Southern France. They found a spot 
 upon the Rhone, within a ride of the old town of Avig- 
 non, and within view of its broken bridge ; they lived 
 there, together, six months; then returned to England. 
 Mrs. Taunton, growing old after three years, and remem- 
 bering that her strength had been benefited by the 
 change, resolved to go back for a year. So she went 
 with a faithful servant, who had often carried her son 
 in his arms; and she was to be rejoined and escorted 
 home, at the year's end, by Captain Richard Double- 
 dick. 
 
 She wrote regularly to her children (as she called 
 them now), and they to her. She went to the neighbor- 
 hood of Aix ; and there, in their own chateau near the 
 farmer's house she rented, she grew into intimacy with 
 a family belonging to that part of France. The intimacy 
 began in her often meeting among the vineyards a pretty 
 child, a girl with a most compassionate heart, who was 
 never tired of listening to the solitary English lady's 
 stories of her poor son and the cruel wars. The family 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 131 
 
 were as gentle as the child, and at length she came to 
 know them so well that she accepted their invitation to 
 pass the last month abroad under their roof. All this 
 intelligence she wrote home, piecemeal as it came about, 
 from time to time ; and at last enclosed a polite note, 
 from the head of the chateau, soliciting, on the occasion 
 of his approaching mission to that neighborhood, the 
 honor of the company of cet horn me si justement cele- 
 bre, Monsieur le Capitaine Eichard Doubleclick. 
 
 Captain Doubledick, now a hardy, handsome man in 
 the full vigor of life, broader across the chest and shoul- 
 ders than he had ever been before, despatched a cour- 
 teous reply, and followed it in person. Travelling 
 through all that extent of country after three years of 
 Peace, he blessed the better days on which the world 
 had fallen. The corn was golden, not drenched in un- 
 natural red ; was bound in sheaves for food, not trodden 
 underfoot by men in mortal fight. The smoke rose up 
 from peaceful hearths, not blazing ruins. The carts 
 were laden with the fair fruits of the earth, not with 
 wounds and death. To him who had so often seen the 
 terrible reverse, these things were beautiful indeed ; and 
 they brought him in a softened spirit to the old chateau 
 near Aix upon a deep blue evening. 
 
 It was a large chateau with round towers and a high 
 leaden roof, and more windows than Aladdin's Palace. 
 The lattice blinds were all thrown open after the heat of 
 the day, and there were glimpses of rambling walls and 
 corridors within. The entrance doors stood open, as 
 
 
132 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 doors often do in that country when the heat of the day 
 is past ; and the Captain saw no bell or knocker, and 
 walked in. 
 
 He walked into a lofty stone hall, refreshingly cool 
 and gloomy after the glare of a Southern day's travel. 
 Extending along the four sides of this hall was a gallery, 
 leading to suites of rooms; and it was lighted from the 
 top. Still no bell was to be seen. 
 
 "Faith," said the Captain halting, ashamed of the 
 clanking of his boots, "this is a ghostly beginning! " 
 
 He started back, and felt his face turn white. In the 
 gallery, looking down at him, stood the French officer — 
 the officer whose picture he had carried in his mind so 
 long and so far. Compared with the original, at last — 
 in every lineament how like it was! 
 
 He moved, and disappeared, and Captain Richard 
 Doubleclick heard his steps coming quickly down into 
 the hall. He entered through an archway. There was 
 a bright, sudden look upon his face, much such a look 
 as it had worn in that fatal moment. 
 
 Monsieur le Capitaine Richard Doubleclick t En- 
 chanted to receive him! A thousand apologies! The 
 servants were all out in the air. There was a little fe*te 
 among them in the garden. In effect, it was the fete 
 day of my daughter, the little cherished and protected 
 of Madame Taunton. 
 
 He was so gracious and so frank that Monsieur le 
 Capitaine Bichard Doubledick could not withhold his 
 hand. "It is the hand of a brave Englishman," said the 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 133 
 
 French officer, retaining it while he spoke. "I could 
 respect a brave Englishman, even as my foe, how much 
 more as my friend! I also am a soldier," 
 
 "He has not remembered me, as I have remembered 
 him ; he did not take such note of my face, that day, as 
 
134 
 
 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 
 I took of his," thought Captain Richard Doubleclick. 
 "How shall I tell him?" 
 
 The French officer conducted his guest into a garden 
 and presented him to his wife, an engaging and beauti- 
 ful woman, sitting with Mrs. Taunton in an old-fash- 
 ioned pavilion. His daughter, her fair young face beam- 
 ing with joy, came running to embrace him; and there 
 was a boy-baby to tumble down among the orange trees 
 on the broad steps, in making for his father's legs. A 
 multitude of children visitors were dancing to sprightly 
 music ; and all the servants and peasants about the cha- 
 teau were dancing too. It was a scene of innocent hap- 
 piness that might have been invented for the climax of 
 the scenes of peace which had soothed the Captain's 
 journey. 
 
 He looked on, greatly troubled in his mind, until a 
 resounding bell rang and the French officer begged to 
 show him his rooms. They went up -stairs into the gal- 
 lery from which the officer had looked down ; and Mon- 
 sieur le Capitaine Eichard Doubledick was cordially 
 welcomed to a grand outer chamber, and a smaller one 
 within. 
 
 "You were at Waterloo," said the French officer. 
 
 "I was," said Captain Richard Doubledick. "And 
 at Badajos." 
 
 Left alone with the sound of his own stern voice in 
 his ears, he sat down to consider, What shall I do, and 
 how shall I tell him ? At that time, unhappily, many 
 deplorable duels had been fought between English and 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 135 
 
 French officers, arising out of the recent war; and these 
 duels, and how to avoid this officer's hospitality, were the 
 uppermost thought in Captain Eichard Doubledick's 
 mind. 
 
 He was thinking, and letting the time run out in which 
 he should have dressed for dinner, when Mrs. Taunton 
 spoke to him outside the door, asking if he could give 
 her the letter he had brought from Mary. "His mother, 
 above all, 9 the Captain thought. "How shall I tell 
 her?" 
 
 "You will form a friendship with your host, I hope," 
 said Mrs. Taunton, whom he hurriedly admitted, "that 
 will last for life. He is so true-hearted and so generous, 
 Eichard, that you can hardly fail to esteem one another. 
 If He had been spared he would have appreciated him 
 with his own magnanimity, and would have been truly 
 happy that the evil days were past which made such a 
 man his enemy. " 
 
 She left the room ; and the Captain walked, first to 
 one window, whence he could see the dancing in the 
 garden, then to another window, whence he could see the 
 smiling prospect and the peaceful vineyards. 
 
 "Spirit of my departed friend," said he, "is it through 
 thee these better thoughts are rising in my mind 1 Is it 
 thou who hast shown me, all the way I have been drawn 
 to meet this man, the blessings of the altered time ! Is 
 it thou who hast sent thy stricken mother to me, to stay 
 my angry hand? Is it from thee the whisper comes, 
 that this man did his duty as thou didst, — and as I did, 
 
136 
 
 CAPTAIN RICHARD DOUBLEDICK. 
 
 through thy guidance, which has wholly saved me here 
 on earth, — and that he did no more? " 
 
 He sat down, with his head buried in his hands, and, 
 when he rose up, made the second strong resolution of 
 his life, — that neither to the French officer, nor to the 
 mother of his departed friend, nor to any soul, while 
 either of the two was living, would he breathe what only 
 he knew. And when he touched that French officer's 
 glass with his own, that day at dinner, he secretly for- 
 gave him in the name of the Divine Forgiver of injuries. 
 
 r JfJ y 
 
 j&tfiUxvi^ 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. IN THREE CHAPTERS. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 THE GUEST. 
 
 I have kept one secret in the course of my life. I 
 am a bashful man. I might greatly move the reader by 
 some account of the innumerable places I have not been 
 to, or the innumerable social evasions I have been guilty 
 of, solely because I am a bashful man. But I will leave 
 the reader unmoved, and proceed with the object before 
 me. 
 
 That object is to give a plain account of my travels 
 and discoveries in the Holly-Tree Inn ; in which place of 
 good entertainment for man and beast I was once snowed 
 up. 
 
 It happened in the memorable year when I parted 
 forever from Angela Leath, whom I was shortly to 
 have married, on making the discovery that she pre- 
 ferred my bosom friend. It was under these circum- 
 stances that I resolved to go to America — on my way 
 to the Devil. 
 
 Communicating my discovery neither to Angela nor 
 137 
 
138 
 
 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 to Edwin, but resolving to write each of them an affect- 
 ing letter conveying my blessing and forgiveness, I 
 
 quietly left all I held dear, and started on the desolate 
 journey I have mentioned. 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 139 
 
 The dead winter-time was in full dreariness when 1 
 left my chambers forever, at five o'clock in the morn- 
 ing. 
 
 It wanted nine days to the end of the month, and end 
 of the year. The Post-office packet for the United 
 States was to depart from Liverpool, weather permit- 
 ting, on the first of the ensuing month, and I had the 
 intervening time on my hands. I had taken this into 
 consideration, and had resolved to make a visit to a cer- 
 tain spot on the farther borders of Yorkshire. It was 
 endeared to me by my having first seen Angela at a 
 farm-house in that place, and my melancholy was grati- 
 fied by the idea of taking a wintry leave of it before my 
 expatriation. 
 
 There was no Northern Eailway at that time, and in 
 its place there were stage-coaches. I had secured the 
 box-seat on the fastest of these, but when one of our 
 Temple watchmen, who carried my portmanteau into 
 Fleet- street for me, told me about the huge blocks of ice 
 that had for some days past been floating in the river, 
 having closed up in the night, and made a walk from 
 the Temple Gardens over to the Surrey shore, I began 
 to ask myself the question, whether the box-seat would 
 not be likely to put a sudden and a frosty end to my un 
 happiness. I was heart-broken, it is true, and yet I was 
 uot quite so far gone as to wish to be frozen to death. 
 
 When I got up to the Peacock, — where I found every- 
 body drinking hot purl, in self-preservation, — I asked if 
 there were an inside seat to spare. I then discovered 
 
no 
 
 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 that, inside or out, I was the only passenger. This gave 
 me a still livelier idea of the great inclemency of the 
 weather, since that coach always loaded particularly well. 
 
 It was still dark when we left the Peacock. For a lit- 
 tle while, pale, uncertain ghosts of houses and trees ap- 
 peared and vanished, and then it was hard, black, frozen 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 141 
 
 day. People were lighting their fires ; snioke was mount- 
 ing straight up high into the rarefied air ; and we were 
 rattling for Highgate Archway over the hardest ground 
 I have ever heard the ring of iron shoes on. I don't 
 know when the snow began to set in; but I know 
 that we were changing horses somewhere when I 
 heard the guard remark, "That the old lady up in 
 the sky was picking her geese pretty hard to-day." 
 Then, indeed, I found the white down falling fast and 
 thick. 
 
 The lonely day wore on, and I dozed it out, as a lonely 
 traveller does. The coach and horses seemed to execute 
 in chorus Auld Lang Syne, without a moment's inter- 
 mission. 
 
 I forget now where we were at noon on the second 
 day, and where we ought to have been ; but I know that 
 we were scores of miles behindhand, and that our case 
 was growing worse every hour. We performed Auld 
 Lang Syne the whole day ; seeing nothing, out of towns 
 and villages, but the track of stoats, hares, and foxes, 
 and sometimes of birds. At nine o'clock at night, on a 
 Yorkshire moor, a cheerful burst from our horn, and a 
 welcome sound of talking, with a glimmering and mov- 
 ing about of lanterns, roused me from my drowsy state. 
 I found that we were going to change. 
 
 They helped me out, and I said to a waiter, whose 
 bare head became as white as King Lear's in a single 
 minute, " What Inn is this? " 
 
 "The Holly-Tree, sir," said he. 
 
U2 
 
 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 " Upon my word, I believe, " said I, apologetically, to 
 the guard and coachman, "that I must stop here." 
 I thought I had never seen such a large room as that 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 143 
 
 into which they showed me. It had five windows, with 
 dark red curtains that would have absorbed the light of 
 a general illumination ; and there were complications of 
 drapery at the top of the curtains, that went wandering 
 about the wall in a most extraordinary manner. I asked 
 for a smaller room, and they told me there was no 
 smaller room. They could screen me in, however, the 
 landlord said. They brought a great old japanned 
 screen, with natives (Japanese, I suppose) engaged in a 
 variety of idiotic pursuits all over it ; and left me roast- 
 ing whole before an immense fire. 
 
 My bedroom was some quarter of a mile off, up a great 
 staircase at the end of a long gallery. It was the grim- 
 mest room I have ever had the nightmare in ; and all the 
 furniture, from the four posts of the bed to the two old 
 silver candlesticks, was tall, high-shouldered, and spin- 
 dle-waisted. Below, in my sitting-room, if I looked 
 round my screen, the wind rushed at me like a mad bull ; 
 if I stuck to my armchair, the fire scorched me to the 
 color of a new brick. 
 
 In the morning I found that it was snowing still, that 
 it had snowed at night, and that I was snowed up. 
 Nothing could get out of that spot on the moor, or could 
 come at it, until the road had been cut out by laborers 
 from the market-town. When they might cut their way 
 to the Holly -Tree nobody could tell me. 
 
 Trying to settle down in my solitude, I first of ail 
 asked what books there were in the house. The waiter 
 brought me a Book of Boads, two or three old Kewspa- 
 
144 THE HOLLY- TREE. 
 
 pers, a little Song-Book, terminating in a collection of 
 Toasts and Sentiments, a little Jest -Book, an odd volume 
 of Peregrine Tickle, and the Sentimental Journey. I knew 
 every word of the last already, but I read them through 
 again, then tried to hum all the songs (Auld Lang Syne 
 was among them) ; went entirely through the jokes, — in 
 which I found a fund of melancholy adapted to my state 
 of mind ; proposed all the toasts, enunciated all the sen- 
 timents, and mastered the papers. The latter had noth- 
 ing in them but stock advertisements, a meeting about a 
 county rate, and a highway robbery. As I am a greedy 
 reader, I could not make this supply hold out until 
 night ; it was exhausted by tea-time. Being then entirely 
 cast upon my own resources, I got through an hour in 
 considering what to do next. Ultimately a desperate 
 idea came into my head. Under any other circum- 
 stances I should have rejected it; but, in the strait at 
 which I was, I held it fast. Could I so far overcome the 
 inherent bashfulness which withheld me from the land- 
 lord's table and the company I might find there, as to 
 call up the Boots, and ask him to take a chair, — and 
 something in a liquid form, — and talk to me ? I could. 
 I would. I did. 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 145 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE BOOTS. 
 
 Where had he been in his time ? he repeated, when 
 I asked him the question. Lord, he had been every- 
 where ! And what had he been? 
 Bless you, he had been every- 
 thing you could mention a'most! 
 Seen a good deal? Why, of 
 'course he had. I should say so, 
 he could assure me, if I only 
 knew about a twentieth part of 
 what had come in his way. 
 Why, it would be easier for 
 him, he expected, to tell what 
 he hadn't seen than what he 
 had. 
 
 What was the curiousest 
 thing he had seen? Well! 
 He didn't know. He couldn't 
 momently name what was the 
 curiousest thing he had seen, — 
 unless it was a Unicorn, — and he 
 see him once at a Fair. But suppos- 
 ing a young gentleman not eight year 
 old was to run away with a fine young 
 woman of seven, might I think that a queer start? 
 
146 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 Certainly. Then that was a start as he himself had had 
 his blessed eyes on, and he had cleaned the shoes they 
 run away in — and they was so little that he couldn't 
 get his hand into 'em. 
 
 Master Harry Walniers' father, you see, he lived at 
 the Elmses, down away by Shooter's Hill there, six or 
 seven miles from Lunnon. He was a gentleman of 
 spirit, and good-looking, and held his head up when he 
 walked, and had what you may call Fire about him. 
 He wrote poetry, and he rode, and he ran, and he crick- 
 eted, and he danced, and he acted, and he done it all 
 equally beautiful. He was uncommon proud of Master 
 Harry as was his only child; but he didn't spoil him 
 neither. He was a gentleman that had a will of his own 
 and a eye of his own, and that would be minded. Con- 
 sequently, though he made quite a companion of the fine 
 bright boy, and was delighted to see him so fond of read- 
 ing his fairy -books, and was never tired of hearing him 
 say my name is Norval, or hearing him sing his songs 
 about " Young May Moons is beaming love, " and " When 
 he as adores thee has left but the name, " and that ; still 
 he kept the command over the child, and the child was 
 a child, and it's to be wished more of 'em was! 
 
 How did Boots happen to know all this? Why, 
 through being under-gardener. Of course he couldn't 
 be under-gardener, and be always about, in the summer- 
 time, near the windows on the lawn, a mowing, and 
 sweeping, and weeding, and pruning, and this and that, 
 without getting acquainted with the ways of the family. 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 14? 
 
 Even supposing Master Harry hadn't come to him one 
 morning early, and said, "Cobbs, how should you spell 
 Xorah, if you was asked? " and then began cutting it in 
 print all over the fence. 
 
 He couldn't say he had taken particular notice of chil- 
 dren before that ; but really it was pretty to see them two 
 mites a going about the place together, deep in love. 
 And the courage of the boy ! Bless your soul, he'd have 
 throwed off his little hat, and tucked up his little sleeves, 
 and gone in at a Lion, he would, if they had happened 
 to meet one, and she had been frightened of him. One 
 day he stops, along with her, where Boots was hoeing 
 weeds in the gravel, and says, speaking up, "Cobbs," he 
 says, "I like you." " Do you, sir? I'm proud to hear 
 it." "Yes, I do, Cobbs. Why do I like you, do you 
 think, Cobbs?" "Don't know, Master Harry, I am 
 sure." "Because Norah likes you, Cobbs." "Indeed, 
 sir? That's very gratifying." "Gratifying, Cobbs? 
 It's better than millions of the brightest diamonds to 
 be liked by Norah." "Certainly, sir." "You're going 
 away, ain't you, Cobbs?" "Yes, sir." "Would you 
 like another situation, Cobbs?" "Well, sir, I shouldn't 
 object, if it was a good 'un." "Then, Cobbs," says he, 
 "you shall be our Head Gardener when we are married." 
 And he tucks her, in her little sky-blue mantle, under 
 his arm, and walks away. 
 
 Boots could assure me that it was better than a picter, 
 and equal to a play, to see them babies, with their long, 
 bright, curling hair, their sparkling eyes, and their 
 
148 
 
 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 
 beautiful light tread, a rambling about the garden, deep 
 in love. Boots was of the opinion that the birds believed 
 they was birds, and kept up 
 with 'em, singing to please 
 'em. Sometimes they would 
 creep under the Tulip -tree, 
 and would sit there with their 
 arms round one another's necks, 
 and their soft cheeks touching, 
 a reading about the Prince and 
 the Dragon, and the 
 good and bad enchant- 
 ers, and the king's fair 
 daughter. Sometimes he 
 would hear them plan- 
 ning about having a 
 house in a forest, keep- 
 ing bees and a cow, and 
 living on milk and 
 honey. Once he 
 came upon them by 
 the pond, and heard 
 Master Harry say, 
 " Adorable Norah, 
 kiss me, and say 
 you love me to dis- 
 traction, or I'll jump in headforemost. " And Boots 
 made no question he would have done it if she hadn't 
 
 complied. 
 12 
 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 149 
 
 "Cobbs," said Master Harry, one evening, when 
 Cobbs was watering the flowers, "I am -going on a visit, 
 this present Midsummer, to my grandmamma's at 
 York." 
 
 " Are you indeed, sir 1 ? I hope you'll have a pleasant 
 time. I am going into Yorkshire, myself, when I leave 
 here. " 
 
 "Are you going to your grandmamma's, Cobbs? " 
 
 "No, sir. I haven't got such a thing." 
 
 "Not as a grandmamma, Cobbs?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 The boy looked on at the watering of the flowers for 
 a little while, and then said, "I shall be very glad in- 
 deed to go, Cobbs, — Norah's going." 
 
 "You'll be all right then, sir," says Cobbs, "with your 
 beautiful sweetheart by your side. " 
 
 "Cobbs," returned the boy, flushing, "I never let any- 
 body joke about it, when I can prevent them." 
 
 "It wasn't a joke, sir," says Cobbs, with humility, — 
 "wasn't so meant." 
 
 "I am glad of that, Cobbs, because I like you, you 
 know, and you're going to live with us. — Cobbs! " 
 
 "Sir." 
 
 "What do you think my grandmamma gives me when 
 I go down there % " 
 
 "I couldn't so much as make a guess, sir." 
 
 "A Bank of England five-pound note, Cobbs." 
 
 "Whew!" says Cobbs, "that's a spanking sum of 
 money, Master Harry. " 
 
 
150 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 " A person could do a good deal with such a sum of 
 money as that, — couldn't a person, Cobbs? " 
 
 " I believe you, sir!" 
 
 " Cobbs," said the boy, "I'll tell you a secret. At 
 Koran's house, they have been joking her about me, and 
 pretending to laugh at our being engaged, — pretending 
 to make game of it, Cobbs ! " 
 
 "Such, sir," says Cobbs, "is the depravity of human 
 nature. " 
 
 The boy, looking exactly like his father, stood for a 
 few minutes with his glowing face toward the sunset, 
 and then departed with "Good night, Cobbs. I'm going 
 iu." 
 
 Well, sir ! Boots left the Elmses when his time was 
 up, and Master Harry, he went down to the old lady's at 
 York. What does that Infant do,— for Infant you may 
 call him and be within the mark, — but cut away from 
 that old lady's with his Norah, on a expedition to go to 
 Gretna Green and be married ! 
 
 Sir, Boots was at this identical Holly-Tree Inn when, 
 one summer afternoon, the coach drives up, and out of 
 the coach gets them two children. The Guard says to 
 our Governor, "I don't quite make out these little pas- 
 sengers, but the young gentleman's words was that they 
 was to be brought here. " The young gentleman gets out ; 
 hands his lady out ; gives the Guard something for him- 
 self; says to our Governor, "We're to stop here to- 
 night, please. Sitting-room and two bedrooms will be 
 required. Chops and cherry-pudding for two!" and 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 151 
 
 tucks her, in her little sky-blue mantle, under his arm, 
 and walks into the house much bolder than Brass, 
 
 Boots leaves me to judge what the amazement of that 
 establishment was, when these two tiny creatures si:. 
 alone by themselves was marched into the Angel, — much 
 more so, when he, who had seen them without their 
 seeing him, give the Governor his views of the expedi- 
 tion they was upon. Cobbs," says the Governor, "if 
 this is so, I must set off myself to York, and quiet their 
 friends' minds. In which case you must keep your eye 
 upon 'em, and humor 'em, till I come back. But before 
 I take these measures, Cobbs, I should wish you to find 
 from themselves whether your opinion is correct. " " Sir, 
 to you," says Cobbs, "that shall be done directly." 
 
 So Boots goes up -stairs to the Angel, and there he 
 finds Master Harry on a enormous sofa, — immense at 
 any time, but looking like the Great Bed of Ware, com- 
 pared with him, — a drying the eyes of Miss Norah with 
 his pocket-handkecher. Their little legs was entirely 
 off the ground, of course, and it really is not possible 
 for Boots to express to me how small them children 
 looked. 
 
 "It's Cobbs! It's Cobbs!" cries Master Harry, and 
 conies running to him, and catching hold of his hand. 
 Miss Norah comes running to him on t'other side and 
 catching hold of his t'other hand, and they both jump 
 for joy. 
 
 "I see you a getting out, sir," says Cobbs. "I thought 
 it was you. I thought I couldn't be mistaken in your 
 
152 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 height and figure. What's the object of your journey, 
 sir ! — Matrimonial ? " 
 
 "We are going to be married, Cobbs, at Gretna 
 Green, " returned the boy. " We have run away on pur- 
 pose. Norah has been in rather low spirits, Cobbs ; but 
 she'll be happy, now we have found you to be our 
 friend. " 
 
 " Thank you, sir, and thank you, miss," says Cobbs, 
 "for your good opinion. Did you bring any luggage 
 with you, sir ! " 
 
 If I will believe Boots when he gives me his word and 
 honor upon it, the lady had got a parasol, a smelling- 
 bottle, a round and a half of cold buttered toast, eight 
 peppermint drops, and a hair-brush, — seemingly a 
 doll's. The gentleman had got about half a dozen yards 
 of string, a knife, three or four sheets of writing-paper 
 folded up surprising small, a orange, and a Chaney mug 
 with his name upon it. 
 
 " What may be the exact natur of your plans, sir?" 
 says Cobbs. 
 
 "To go on," replied the boy, — which the courage of 
 that boy was something wonderful ! — "in the morning, 
 and be married to-morrow. " 
 
 "Just so, sir," says Cobbs. "Would it meet your 
 views, sir, if I was to accompany you ! " 
 
 When Cobbs said this, they both jumped for joy 
 again, and cried out, "Oh, yes, yes, Cobbs! Yes!" 
 
 "Well, sir," says Cobbs. "If you will excuse my 
 having the freedom to give an opinion, what I should 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 153 
 
 recommend would be this. I'm acquainted with a pony, 
 sir, which, put in a pheayton that I could borrow, would 
 take you and Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior (myself 
 driving, if you approved), to the end of your journey 
 in a very short space of time. I am not altogether sure, 
 sir, that this pony will be at liberty to-morrow, but even 
 if you had to wait over to-morrow for him, it might be 
 worth your while. As to the small account here, sir, in 
 case you was to find yourself running at all short, that 
 don't signify; because I'm a part proprietor of this inn, 
 and it could stand over." 
 
 Boots assures me that when they clapped their hands, 
 and jumped for joy again, and called him "Good 
 Cobbs!" and "Dear Cobbs!" and bent across him to 
 kiss one another in the delight of their confiding hearts, 
 he felt himself the meanest rascal for deceiving 'em that 
 ever was born. 
 
 "Is there anything you want just at present, sir?" 
 says Cobbs, mortally ashamed of himself. 
 
 "We should like some cakes after dinner," answered 
 Master Harry, folding his arms, putting out one leg, and 
 looking straight at him, "and two apples, — and jam. 
 With dinner we should like to have toast-and-water. 
 But Koran has always been accustomed to half a glass of 
 currant wine at desert. And so have I." 
 
 " It shall be ordered at the bar, sir, " says Cobbs ; and 
 away he went. 
 
 The way in which the women of that house — without 
 exception — every one of 'em — married and single — took 
 
15-1 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 to that boy when they heard the story, Boots considers 
 surprising. It was as much as he could do to keep 'em 
 from dashing into the room and kissing him. They 
 climbed up all sorts of places, at the risk of their lives, 
 to look at them through a pane of glass. They was 
 seven deep at the keyhole. They was out of their minds 
 about him and his bold spirit. 
 
 In the evening, Boots went into the room to see how 
 the run -away couple was getting on. The gentleman 
 was on the window-seat, supporting the lady in his arms. 
 She had tears upon her face, and was lying, very tired 
 and half asleep, with her head upon his shoulder. 
 
 "Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior, fatigued, sir?" says 
 Cobbs. 
 
 "Yes, she is tired, Cobbs; but she is Jiot used to be 
 away from home, and she has been in low spirits 
 again. Cobbs, do you think you could bring a biffin, 
 please ! " 
 
 " I ask your pardon, sir, " says Cobbs. " What was it 
 you — !" 
 
 "I think a Norfolk biffin would rouse her, Cobbs. 
 She is very fond of them." 
 
 Boots withdrew in search of the required restorative, 
 and, when he brought it in, the gentleman handed it to 
 the lady, and fed her with a spoon, and took a little 
 himself; the lady being heavy with sleep, and rather 
 cross. " What should you think, sir," says Cobbs, "of 
 a chamber candlestick 1 " The gentleman approved ; the 
 chambermaid went first, up the great staircase ; the lady, 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 155 
 
 in her sky-blue mantle, followed, gallantly escorted by 
 the gentleman ; the gentleman embraced her at her door, 
 
 and retired to his own apartment, where Boots softly 
 locked hiin up. 
 
 Boots couldn't but feel with increased acuteness what 
 
156 THE HOLLY- TREE. 
 
 a base deceiver lie was, when they consulted him at 
 breakfast (they had ordered sweet milk-and-water, and 
 toast and currant jelly, overnight) about the pony. It 
 really was as much as he could do, he don't mind con- 
 fessing to me, to look them two young things in the face, 
 and think what a wicked old father of lies he had grown 
 up to be. Howsomever, he went on a lying like a Tro- 
 jan about the pony. He told 'em that it did so unfort'- 
 nately happen that the pony was half clipped, you see, 
 and that he couldn't be taken out in that state, for fear 
 it should strike to his inside. But that he'd be finished 
 clipping in the course of the day, and that to-morrow 
 morning at eight o'clock the pheayton would be ready. 
 Boots's view of the whole case, looking back on it in my 
 room, is, that Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior, was begin- 
 ning to give in. She hadn't had her hair curled when 
 she went to bed, and she didn't seem quite up to brush- 
 ing it herself, and its getting in her eyes put her out. 
 But nothing put out Master Harry. He sat behind his 
 breakfast -cup, a tearing away at the jelly, as if he had 
 been his own father. 
 
 After breakfast, Boots is inclined to consider that 
 they drawed soldiers, — at least, he knows that many 
 such was found in the fire-place, all on horseback. In 
 the course of the morning, Master Harry rang the bell, 
 —it was surprising how that there boy did carry ou,— 
 and said, in a sprightly way, " Oobbs, is there any good 
 walks in this neighborhood 1 " 
 
 "Yes, sir," says Cobbs. " There's Love-lane." 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 157 
 
 "Get out with you, Cobbs!" — that was that there 
 boy's expression, — "you're joking." 
 
 " Begging your pardon, sir, " says Cobbs, " there really 
 is Love-lane. And a pleasant walk it is, and proud 
 shall I be to show it to yourself and Mrs. Harry Wal- 
 mers, Junior." 
 
 "Norah, dear," said Master Harry, "this is curious. 
 We really ought to see Love-lane. Put on your bonnet, 
 my sweetest darling, and we will go there with Cobbs. " 
 
 Boots leaves me to judge what a Beast he felt himself 
 to be, when that young pair told him, as they all three 
 jogged along together, that they had made up their 
 minds to give him two thousand guineas a year as head- 
 gardener, on accounts of his being so true a friend to 
 'em. Boots could have wished at the moment that the 
 earth would have opened and swallowed him up, he felt 
 so mean, with their beaming eyes a looking at him, and 
 believing him. Well, sir, he turned the conversation as 
 well as he could, and he took 'em down Love-lane to the 
 water-meadows, and there Master Harry would have 
 drowned himself in half a moment more, a getting out 
 a water-lily for her, — but nothing daunted that boy. 
 Well, sir, they was tired out. All being so new and 
 strange to 'em, they was tired as tired could be. And 
 they laid down on a bank of daisies, like the children in 
 the wood, and fell asleep. 
 
 Well, sir, they woke up at last, and then one thing 
 was getting pretty clear to Boots, namely, that Mrs. 
 Harry Walmerses, Junior's, temper was on the move. 
 
158 
 
 THE HOLLY -TREE, 
 
 When Master Harry took her round the waist, she said 
 he "teased her so;" and when he says, "Norah, my 
 young May Moon, your Harry tease you?" she tells 
 him, "Yes; and I want to go home! " 
 
 A biled fowl, and baked bread-and-butter pudding, 
 
 brought Mrs. Walmers up a little ; but Boots could have 
 wished, he must privately own to me, to have seen her 
 more sensible of the woice of love, and less abandoning 
 of herself to currants. However, Master Harry, he kept 
 up, and his noble heart was as fond as ever. Mrs. Wal- 
 mers turned very sleepy about dusk, and began to cry. 
 
" COBBS, HOW SHOULD YOU SPELL NOBAH ? " PAGE 176. 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 159 
 
 Therefore, Mrs. Walmers went off to bed as per yester- 
 day ; and Master Harry ditto repeated. 
 
 Abont eleven or twelve at night comes back the Gov- 
 ernor in a chaise, along with Mr. Walmers and a elderly 
 lady. Mr. Walmers looks amused and very serious, 
 both at once, and says to our missis, "We are much in- 
 debted to you, ma'am, for your kind care of our little 
 children, which we can never sufficiently acknowledge. 
 Pray, ma'am, where is my boy*?" Our missis says, 
 " Cobbs has the dear child in charge, sir. Cobbs, show 
 Forty ! " Then he says to Cobbs, " Ah, Cobbs, I am glad 
 to see you ! I understood you was here ! " And Cobbs 
 says, "Yes, sir. Your most obedient, sir." 
 
 I may be surprised to hear Boots say it, perhaps ; but 
 Boots assures me that his heart beat like a hammer, 
 going up-stairs. "I beg your pardon, sir," says he, 
 while unlocking the door ; " I hope you are not angry 
 with Master Harry. For Master Harry is a fine boy, 
 sir, and will do you credit and honor. " And Boots sig- 
 nifies to me, that, if the fine boy's father had contra- 
 dicted him in the daring state of mind in which he then 
 was, he thinks he should have "fetched him a crack," 
 and taken the consequences. 
 
 But Mr. Walmers only says, "No, Cobbs. No, my 
 good fellow. Thank you ! " And, the door being 
 opened, goes in. 
 
 Boots goes in too, holding the light, and he sees Mr. 
 Walmers go up to the bedside, bend gently down, and 
 kiss the little sleeping face. Then he stands looking at 
 

 100 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 it for a minute, looking wonderfully like it, and then he 
 gently shakes the little shoulder. 
 
 "Harry, my dear boy ! Harry ! " 
 
 Master Harry starts up and looks at him. Looks at 
 Cobbs too. Such is the honor of that mite, that he looks 
 at Cobbs, to see whether he has brought him into trouble. 
 
 "I am not angry, my child. I only want you to dress 
 yourself and come home. " 
 
 "Yes, pa." 
 
 Master Harry dresses himself quickly. His breast 
 begins to swell when he has nearly finished, and it swells 
 more and more as he stands, at last, a looking at his 
 father : his father standing a looking at him, the quiet 
 image of him. 
 
 "Please may I" — the spirit of that little creatur, and 
 the way he kept his rising tears down! — "please, dear 
 pa — may I — kiss Norah before I go ! " 
 
 "You may, my child." 
 
 So he takes Master Harry in his hand, and Boots leads 
 the way with the candle, and they come to that other 
 bedroom, where the elderly lady is seated by the bed, 
 and poor little Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior, is fast 
 asleep. There the father lifts the child up to the pillow, 
 and he lays his little face down for an instant by the 
 little warm face of poor unconscious little Mrs. Harry 
 Walmers, Junior, and gently draws it to him, — a sight 
 so touching to the chambermaids who are peeping 
 through the door, that one of them calls out, "It's a 
 shame to part 'em!" But this chambermaid was a!" 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 1G1 
 
 ways, as Boots informs me, a soft-hearted one. Not 
 that there was any harm in that girl. Far from it. 
 
 Finally, Boots says, that's all about it. Mr. Walmers 
 drove away in the chaise, having hold of Master Harry's 
 hand. The elderly lady and Mrs. Harry Walmers, 
 Junior, that was never to be (she married a Captain 
 long afterward, and died in India), went off next day. 
 In conclusion, Boots put it to me whether I hold with 
 him in two opinions: firstly, that there are not many 
 couples on their way to be married who are half as 
 innocent of guile as those two children ; secondly, that 
 it would be a jolly good thing for a great many couples 
 on their way to be married, if they could only be stopped 
 in time, and brought back separately. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 THE BILL. 
 
 I had been snowed up a whole week. The time had 
 hung so lightly on my hands, that I should have been in 
 great doubt of the fact but for a piece of documentary 
 evidence that lay upon my table. The road had been 
 dug out of the snow on the previous day, and the docu- 
 ment in question was my Bill. It testified emphatically 
 to my having eaten and drunk, and warmed myself, and 
 slept among the sheltering branches of the Holly-Tree, 
 
 seven days and nights. 
 13 
 

 162 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 I had taken leave of all my Holly-Tree friends, and 
 was standing for half a minute at the Inn door watching 
 the ostler as he took another turn at the cord which tied 
 my portmanteau on the chaise, when I saw lamps com- 
 ing down toward the Holly-Tree. The road was so pad- 
 ded with snow that no wheels were audible ; but all of 
 us who were standing at the Inn door saw lamps coming 
 on, and at a lively rate too, between the walls of snow 
 that had been heaped up on either side of the track. 
 The chambermaid instantly divined how the case stood, 
 and called to the ostler, "Tom, this is a Gretna job!" 
 The ostler, knowing that her sex instinctively scented a 
 marriage, or anything m that direction, rushed up the 
 yard bawling, "Next four out!" and in a moment the 
 whole establishment was thrown into commotion. 
 
 I had a melancholy interest in seeing the happy man 
 who loved and was beloved; and therefore, instead of 
 driving off at once, I remained at the Inn door when the 
 fugitives drove up. A bright-eyed fellow, muffled in a 
 mantle, jumped out so briskly that he almost overthrew 
 me. He turned to apologize, and, by Heaven, it was 
 Edwin ! 
 
 "Charley!" said he, recoiling. "Gracious powers, 
 what do you do here ! " 
 
 "Edwin," said I, recoiling, "gracious powers, what 
 do you do here? " I struck my forehead as I said it, and 
 an insupportable blaze of light seemed to shoot before 
 my eyes. 
 
 He hurried me into the 1 Ittie parlor (always kept with 
 
THE HOLLY-TREE. 163 
 
 a slow fire in it and no poker), where posting company 
 waited while their horses were putting to, and, shutting 
 the door, said: 
 
 "Charley, forgive me ! " 
 
 "Edwin!" I returned. "Was this well? When I 
 loved her so dearly ! When I had garnered up my heart 
 so long ! n I could say no more. 
 
 He was shocked when he saw how moved I was, and 
 made the cruel observation, that he had not thought I 
 should have taken it so much to heart. 
 
 I looked at him. I reproached him no more. But I 
 looked at him. 
 
 "My dear, dear Charley, " said he, " don't think ill of me, 
 I beseech you ! I know you have a right to my utmost 
 confidence, and, believe me, you have ever had it until 
 now. I abhor secrecy. Its meanness is intolerable to me. 
 But I and my dear girl have observed it for your sake. " 
 
 He and his dear girl ! It steeled me. 
 
 "You have observed it for my sake, sir?" said I, 
 wondering how his frank face could face it out so. 
 
 "Yes! — and Angela's," said he. 
 
 I found the room reeling round in an uncertain way, 
 like a laboring humming-top. "Explain yourself," said 
 I, holding on by one hand to an armchair. 
 
 " Dear old darling Charley ! " returned Edwin, in his 
 cordial manner, "consider! When you were going on 
 so happily with Angela, why should I compromise you 
 with the old gentleman by making you a party to our 
 engagement, and (after he had declined my proposals) 
 
164 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 
 to our secret intention! Surely it was better that you 
 should be able honorably to say, 'He never took counsel 
 with me, never told me, never breathed a word of it. ' 
 If Angela suspected it, and showed me all the favor and 
 support she could — God bless her for a precious creature 
 and a priceless wife ! — I couldn't help that. Neither I 
 nor Emmeline ever told her, any more than we told you. 
 And for the same good reason, Charley; trust me, for 
 the same good reason, and no other upon earth ! " 
 
 Emmeline was Angela's cousin. Lived with her. 
 Had been brought up with her. Was her father's ward. 
 Had property. 
 
 " Emmeline is in the chaise, my dear Edwin! " said I, 
 embracing him with the greatest affection. 
 
 "My good fellow! " said he, "do you suppose I should 
 be going to Gretna Green without her % " 
 
 I ran out with Edwin, I opened the chaise door, I took 
 Emmeline in my arms, I folded her to my heart. She 
 was wrapped in soft white fur, like the snowy land- 
 scape; but was warm, and young, and lovely. I put 
 their leaders to with my own hands, I gave the boys a 
 five-pound note apiece, I cheered them as they drove 
 away, I drove the other way myself as hard as I could 
 pelt. 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 IN TWO CHAPTERS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 TO BE TAKEN" IMMEDIATELY. 
 
 I am a Cheap Jack, 
 
 and my own father's 
 
 name was Willum 
 
 Marigold. It was in 
 
 his lifetime supposed 
 
 by some that his name 
 
 was William, but my 
 
 own father always 
 
 consistently said, No, 
 
 it was Willum. On 
 
 which point I content 
 
 myself with lookiug at 
 
 the argument this way : 
 
 If a man is not allowed 
 
 to know his own name 
 
 in a free country, how 
 
 much is he allowed to 
 165 
 
166 DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 know in a land of slavery ? As to looking at the argu- 
 ment through the medium of the Eegister, Willum 
 Marigold come into the world before Eegisters come 
 up much, — and went out of it too. They wouldn't 
 have been greatly in his line neither, if they had 
 chanced to come up before him. 
 
 I was born on the Queen's highway, but it was the 
 King's at that time. A doctor was fetched to my own 
 mother by my own father, when it took place on a com- 
 mon : and in consequence of his being a very kind gen- 
 tleman, and accepting no fee but a tea-tray, I was named 
 Doctor, out of gratitude and compliment to him. There 
 you have me. Doctor Marigold. 
 
 I am at present a middle-aged man of a broadish 
 build, in cords, leggings, and a sleeved waistcoat the 
 strings of which is always gone behind. Repair them 
 how you will, they go like fiddle -strings. You have 
 been to the theatre, and you have seen one of the wiolin - 
 players screw up his wiolin, after listening to it as if it 
 had been whispering the secret to him that it feared it 
 was out of order, and then you have heard it snap. 
 That's as exactly similar to my waistcoat as a waistcoat 
 and a wiolin can be like one another. 
 
 I am partial to a white hat, and I like a shawl round 
 my neck wore loose and easy. Sitting down is my fa- 
 vorite posture. If I have a taste in point of personal 
 jewelry, it is mother-of-pearl buttons. There you have 
 me again, as large as life. 
 
 The doctor having accepted a tea-tray, you'll guess 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 167 
 
 that my father was a Cheap Jack before me. You are 
 right. He was. It was a pretty tray. It represented 
 a large lady going along a serpentine uphill gravel-walk, 
 to attend a little church. Two swans had likewise come 
 astray with the same intentions. When I call her a large 
 lady, I don't mean in point of breadth, for there she fell 
 below my views, but she more than made it up in height ; 
 her height and slimness was — in short the height of 
 both. 
 
 I often saw that tray, after I was the innocently smil- 
 ing cause of the doctor's standing it up on a table against 
 the wall in his consulting-room. Whenever my own 
 father and mother were in that part of the country, I 
 used to put my head in at the doctor's door, and the 
 doctor was always glad to see me, and said, " Aha, my 
 brother practitioner! Come in, little M.D. How are 
 your inclinations as to sixpence ? " 
 
 You can't go on forever, you'll find, nor yet could 
 my father nor yet my mother. If you don't go off as a 
 whole when you are about due, you're liable to go off in 
 part, and two to one your head's the part. Gradually 
 my father went off his, and my mother went off hers. 
 
 My father had been a lovely one in his time at the 
 Cheap Jack work, as his dying observations went to 
 prove. But I top him. I don't say it because it's my- 
 self, but because it has been universally acknowledged 
 by all that has had the means of comparison. I have 
 worked at it. I have measured myself against other 
 public speakers, — Members of Parliament, Platforms, 
 
168 DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 Pulpits, Counsel learned in the law, — and where I have 
 found 'em good, I have took a bit of imagination from 
 ? em, and where I have found 'em bad, I have let 'em 
 alone. Now I'll tell you what. I mean to go down into 
 my grave declaring that of all the callings ill used in 
 Great Britain, the Cheap Jack calling is the worst used. 
 Why ain't we a profession ? Why ain't we endowed with 
 privileges? Why are we forced to take out a hawker's 
 license, when no such thing is expected of the political 
 hawkers'? Where's the difference betwixt us! Except 
 that we are Cheap Jacks and they are Dear Jacks, I 
 don't see any difference but what's in our favor. 
 
 I courted my wife from the footboard of the cart. I 
 did indeed. She was a Suffolk young woman, and it was 
 in Ipswich market-place right opposite the corn- 
 chandler's shop. I had noticed her up at a window last 
 Saturday that was, appreciating highly. I had took to 
 her, and I had said to myself, "If not already disposed 
 of, I'll have that lot." Next Saturday that come, I 
 pitched the cart on the same pitch, and I was in very 
 high feather indeed, keeping 'em laughing the whole of 
 the time, and getting off the goods briskly. At last I 
 took out of my waistcoat-pocket a small lot wrapped in 
 soft paper, and I put it this way (looking up at the 
 window where she was). "Now here, my blooming Eng- 
 lish maidens, is an article, the last article of the present 
 evening's sale, which I offer to only you, the lovely Suf- 
 folk Dumplings biling over with beauty, and I won't take 
 a bid of a thousand pounds for from any man alive. Now 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 169 
 
 what is it! Why, I'll tell you what it is. It's made of 
 fine gold, and it's not broke, though there's a hole in the 
 middle of it, and it's stronger than any fetter that ever 
 was forged, though its smaller than any finger in my set 
 of ten. Why ten? Because, when my parents made 
 over my property to me, I tell you true, there was 
 twelve sheets, twelve towels, twelve table-cloths, twelve 
 knives, twelve forks, twelve tablespoons, and twelve 
 teaspoons, but my set of fingers was two short of a 
 dozen, and could never since be matched. Now what 
 else is it! Come, I'll tell you. It's a hoop of solid 
 gold, wrapped in a silver curl-paper, that I myself took 
 off the shining locks of the ever beautiful old lady in 
 Threadneedle-street, London city ; I wouldn't tell you 
 so if I hadn't the paper to show, or you mightn't believe 
 it even of me. Now what else is it? It's a man-trap 
 and a handcuff, the parish stocks and a leg-lock, all in 
 gold and all in one. Now what else is it? It's a wed- 
 ding-ring. Now I'll tell you what I'm a going to do 
 with it. I'm not a going to offer this lot for money ; but 
 I mean to give it to the next of you beauties that laughs, 
 and I'll pay her a visit to-morrow morning at exactly 
 half after nine o'clock as the chimes go, and I'll take 
 her out for a walk to. put up the banns." She laughed, 
 and got the ring handed up to her. When I called in 
 the morning, she says, "O dear! It's never you, and 
 you never mean it? " "It's ever ine," says I, "and I am 
 ever yours, and I ever mean it. " So we got married, 
 after being put up three times — which, by the bye, is 
 
170 DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 quite in the Cheap Jack way again, and shows once more 
 how the Cheap Jack customs pervade society. 
 
 She wasn't a bad wife, but she had a temper. If she 
 could have parted with that one article at a sacrifice, I 
 wouldn't have swopped her away in exchange for any 
 other woman in England. Not that I ever did swop her 
 away, for we lived together till she died, and that was 
 thirteen year. Now, my lords and ladies and gentlefolks 
 all, I'll let you into a secret, though you won't believe 
 it. Thirteen year of temper in a Palace would try the 
 worst of you, but thirteen year of temper in a Cart would 
 try the best of you. You are kept so very close to it in 
 a cart, you see. There's thousands of couples among 
 you getting on like sweet ile upon a whetstone in houses 
 five and six pairs of stairs high, that would go to the 
 Divorce Court in a cart. Whether the jolting makes 
 it worse, I don't undertake to decide ; but in a cart it 
 does come home to you, and stick to you. Wiolence in 
 a cart is so wiolent, and aggrawation in a cart is so 
 aggrawating. 
 
 My dog knew as well when she was on the turn as I 
 did. Before she broke out, he would give a howl, and 
 bolt. How he knew it, was a mystery to me ; but the 
 sure and certain knowledge of it would wake him out of 
 his soundest sleep, and he would give a howl, and bolt. 
 At such times I wished I was him. 
 
 The worst of it was, we had a daughter born to us, and 
 I love children with all my heart. When she was in her 
 furies she beat the child. This got to be so shocking, as 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. l7l 
 
 the child got to be four or five year old, that I have 
 many a time gone on with my whip over my shoulder, at 
 the old horse's head, sobbing and crying worse than ever 
 little Sophy did. For how could I prevent it? Such a 
 thing is not to be tried with such a temper — in a cart — 
 without coming to a fight. It's in the natural size and 
 formation of a cart to bring it to a fight. And then the 
 poor child got worse terrified than before, as well as worse 
 hurt generally, and her mother made complaints to the 
 next people we lighted on, and the word went round, 
 " Here's a wretch of a Cheap Jack been a beating his 
 wife. " 
 
 Little Sophy was such a brave child ! She grew to be 
 quite devoted to her poor father, though he could do so 
 little to help her. She had a wonderful quantity of 
 shining dark hair, all curling natural about her. It is 
 quite astonishing to me now, that I didn't go tearing 
 mad when I used to see her run from her mother before 
 the cart, and her mother catch her by this hair, and pull 
 her down by it, and beat her. 
 
 Such a brave child I said she was ! Ah ! with reason. 
 
 "Don't you mind next time, father dear/' she would 
 whisper to me, with her little face still flushed, and her 
 bright eyes still wet; "if I don't cry out, you may know 
 I am not much hurt. And even if I do cry out, it will 
 only be to get mother to let go and leave off. " What I 
 have seen the little spirit bear — for me — without crying 
 out ! 
 
 Yet in other respects her mother took great care of 
 
172 DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 her. Her clothes were always clean and neat, and her 
 mother was never tired of working at 'em. Such is the 
 inconsistency in things. Onr being down in the marsh 
 country in unhealthy weather, I consider the cause of 
 Sophy's taking bad low fever ; but however she took it, 
 once she got it she turned away from her mother for 
 evermore, and nothing would persuade her to be touched 
 by her mother's hand. She would shiver and say, "No, 
 no, no," when it was offered at, and would hide her face 
 on my shoulder, and hold me tighter round the neck. 
 
 The Cheap Jack business had been worse than ever I 
 had known it, what with one thing and what with an- 
 other (and not least with railroads, which will cut it all 
 to pieces, I expect, at last), and I was run dry of money. 
 For which reason, one night at that period of little 
 Sophy's being so bad, either we must have come to a 
 deadlock for victuals and drink, or I must have pitched 
 the cart as I did. 
 
 I couldn't get the dear child to lie down or leave go of 
 me, and indeed I hadn't the heart to try, so I stepped out 
 on the footboard with her holding round my neck. They 
 all set up a laugh when they see us. 
 
 "Now, you country boobies," says I, feeling as if my 
 heart was a heavy weight at the end of a broken sashline, 
 "I give you notice that I am a going to charm the money 
 out of your pockets, and to give you so much more than 
 your money's worth that you'll only persuade yourselves 
 to draw your Saturday night's wages ever again arter- 
 ward by the hopes of meeting me to lay 'em out with, 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 173 
 
 which you never will, and why not? Because I've made 
 my fortune by selling my goods on a large scale for 
 seventy-five per cent less than I give for 'em, and I am 
 consequently to be elevated to the House of Peers next 
 week, by the title of the Duke of Cheap Jacks and. Markis 
 Jackaloorul. Now let's know what you want to-night, 
 and you shall have it. But first of all, shall I tell you 
 why I have got this little girl round my neck? You 
 don't want to know? Then you shall. She belongs to 
 the Fairies. She's a fortune-teller. She can tell me all 
 about you in a whisper, and can put me up to whether 
 you're going to buy a lot or leave it. Now do you want 
 a saw? No, she says you don't, because you're too 
 clumsy to use one. Else here's a saw which would be a 
 lifelong blessing to a handy man, at four shillings, at 
 three and six, at three, at two and six, at two, at eigh- 
 teen -pence. But none of you shall have it at any price, 
 on account of your well-known awkwardness, which 
 would make it manslaughter. The same objection ap- 
 plies to this set of three planes which I won't let you 
 have neither, so don't bid for 'em. Now I am a going 
 to ask her what you do want." (Then I whispered, 
 "Your head burns so, that I am afraid it hurts you bad, 
 my pet, " and she answered, without opening her heavy 
 eyes, " Just a little, father. ") " O ! This little fortune- 
 teller says it's a memorandum-book you want. Then 
 why didn't you mention it? Here it is. Look at it. 
 Two hundred superfine hot-pressed wire-wove pages — if 
 you don't believe me, count 'em — ready ruled for your 
 
174: DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 expenses, an everlastingly pointed pencil to put 'em 
 down with, a double-bladed penknife to scratch 'em out 
 with, a book of printed tables to calculate your income 
 with, and a camp-stool to sit down upon while you give 
 your mind to it ! Stop ! And an umbrella to keep the 
 moon off when you give your mind to it on a pitch dark 
 night. Now I won't ask you how much for the lot, but 
 how little? How little are you thinking of ! Don't be 
 ashamed to mention it, because my fortune-teller knows 
 already." (Then making believe to whisper, I kissed 
 her, and she kissed me. ) " Why, she says you are think- 
 ing of as little as three and threepence ! I couldn't have 
 believed it, even of you, unless she told me. Three and 
 threepence ! And a set of printed tables in the lot that'll 
 calculate your income up to forty thousand a year! 
 With an income of forty thousand a year, you grudge 
 three and sixpence. Well then, I'll tell you my opinion. 
 I so despise the threepence, that I'd sooner take three shil- 
 lings. There. For three shillings, three shillings, three 
 shillings! Gone. Hand 'em over to the lucky man." 
 
 As there had been no bid at all, everybody looked 
 about and grinned at everybody, while I touched little 
 Sophy's face and asked her if she felt faint, or giddy. 
 "Not very, father. It will soon be over." Then turn- 
 ing from the pretty patient eyes, which were opened 
 now, and seeing nothing but grins across my lighted 
 grease-pot, I went on again in my Cheap Jack style. 
 "Where's the butcher?" (My sorrowful eye had just 
 caught sight of a fat young butcher on the outside of the 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 175 
 
 crowd.) "She says the good luck is the butcher's. 
 Where is he?" Everybody handed on the blushing 
 butcher to the front, and there was a roar, and the 
 butcher felt himself obliged to put his hand in his pocket, 
 and take the lot. The party so picked out, in general, 
 does feel obliged to take the lot — good four times out of 
 six. Then we had another lot, the counterpart of that 
 one, and sold it sixpence cheaper, which is always wery 
 much enjoyed. Then we had the spectacles. It ain't a 
 special profitable lot, but I put 'em on, and I see what 
 the Chancellor of the Exchequer is going to take off the 
 taxes, and I see what the sweetheart of the young woman 
 in the shawl is doing at home, and I see what the Bishops 
 has got for dinner, and a deal more that seldom fails to 
 fetch 'em up in their spirits ; and the better their spirits, 
 the better their bids. Then we had the ladies' lot — the 
 teapot, tea-caddy, glass sugar-basin, half-a-dozen spoons, 
 and caudle-cup — and all the time I was making similar 
 excuses to give a look or two and say a word or two to 
 my poor child. It was while the second ladies' lot was 
 holding 'em enchained that I felt her lift herself a little 
 on my shoulder, to look across the dark street. "What 
 troubles you, darling?" " Nothing troubles me, father. 
 I am not at all troubled. But don't I see a pretty 
 churchyard over there?" "Yes, my dear." "Kiss me 
 twice, dear father, and lay me down to rest upon that 
 churchyard grass so soft and green. " I staggered back 
 into the cart with her head dropped on my shoulder, and 
 I says to her mother, "Quick. Shut the door! Don't 
 
176 DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 let those laughing people see! " " What's the matter? " 
 she cries. "O woman, woman," I tells her, " you'll 
 never catch my little Sophy by her hair again, for she 
 has flown away from you ! " 
 
 Maybe those were harder words than I meant 'em ; but 
 from that time forth my wife took to brooding, and 
 would sit in the cart or walk beside it, hours at a stretch, 
 with her arms crossed, and her eyes looking on the 
 ground. When her furies took her (which was rather 
 seldomer than before) they took her in a new way, and 
 she banged herself about to that extent that I was forced 
 to hold her. She got none the better for a little drink 
 now and then, and through some years I used to wonder, 
 as I plodded along at the old horse's "head, whether there 
 was many carts upon the road that held so much dreari- 
 ness as mine, for all my being looked up to as the King 
 of the Cheap Jacks. So sad our lives went on till one 
 summer evening, when, as we were coming into Exeter, 
 out of the farther West of England, we saw a woman 
 beating a child, who screamed, " Don't beat me! O 
 mother, mother, mother ! " Then my wife stopped her 
 ears, and ran away like a wild thing, and next day she 
 was found in the river. 
 
 Me and my dog were all the company left in the cart 
 now; and the dog learned to give a short bark when 
 they wouldn't bid, and to give another and a nod of his 
 head when I asked him, "Who said half a crown? Are 
 you the gentleman, sir, that offered half a crown ? " He 
 attained to an immense height of popularity, and I shall 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 177 
 
 always believe taught himself entirely out of his own 
 head to growl at any person in the crowd that bid as low 
 as sixpence. But he got to be well on in years, and one 
 night when I was conwulsing York with the spectacles, 
 he took a conwulsion on his own account upon the very 
 footboard by me, and it finished him. 
 
 Being naturally of a tender turn, I had dreadful lonely 
 feelings on me arter this. I conquered 'em at selling 
 times, having a reputation to keep (not to mention keep- 
 ing myself), but they got me down in private, and rolled 
 upon me. That's often the way with us public char- 
 acters. See us on the footboard, and you'd give ^tty 
 well anything you possess to be us. See us off the foot- 
 board, and you'd add a trifle to be off your bargain. It 
 was under those circumstances that I come acquainted 
 with a giant. I might have been too high to fall into 
 conversation with him, had it not been for my lonely 
 feelings. For the general rule is, going round the coun- 
 try, to draw the line at dressing up. When a man can't 
 trust his getting a living to his undisguised abilities, you 
 consider him below your sort. And this giant when on 
 view figured as a Boman. 
 
 He was a languid young man, which I attribute to the 
 distance betwixt his extremities. He had a little head 
 and less in it, he had weak eyes and weak knees, and al- 
 together you couldn't look at him without feeling that 
 there was greatly too much of him both for his joints 
 and his mind. But he was an amiable though timid 
 young man (his mother let him out, and spent the money), 
 
 
178 DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 and we come acquainted when he was walking to ease 
 the horse betwixt two fairs. He was called Rinaldo di 
 Yelasco, his name being Pickleson. 
 
 This giant, otherwise Pickleson, mentioned to me 
 under the seal of confidence that, beyond his being a 
 burden to himself, his life was made a burden to him by 
 the cruelty of his master toward a stepdaughter who was 
 deaf and dumb. Her mother was dead, and she had no 
 living soul to take her part, and was used most hard. 
 She travelled with his master's caravan only because 
 there was nowhere to leave her, and this giant, otherwise 
 Pickleson, did go so far as to believe that his master often 
 tried to lose her. He was such a very languid young 
 man, that I don't know how long it didn't take him to 
 get this story out, but it passed through his defective 
 circulation to his top extremity in course of time. 
 
 When I heard this account from the giant, otherwise 
 Pickleson, and likewise that the poor girl had beautiful 
 long dark hair, and was often pulled down by it and 
 beaten, I couldn't see the giant through what stood in my 
 eyes. His master's name was Mini, a wery hoarse man, 
 and I knew him to speak to. I went to that Fair as a 
 mere civilian, leaving the cart outside the town, and I 
 looked about the beck of the Vans while the performing 
 was going on, and at last, sitting dozing against a muddy 
 cart-wheel, I come upon the poor girl who was deaf and 
 dumb. At the first look I might almost have judged 
 that she had escaped from the Wild Beast Show ; but at 
 the second I thought better of her, and thought that if 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS, 170 
 
 she was more cared for arid more kindly used she would 
 be like my child. She was just the same age that my 
 own daughter would have been, if her pretty head had 
 not fell down upon my shoulder that unfortunate night. 
 
 To cut it short, I spoke confidential to Mim while he 
 was beating the gong outside betwixt two lots of Pickle- 
 son's publics, and I put it to him, "She lies heavy on 
 your own hands; what'll you take for her?" Mim was 
 a most ferocious swearer. Suppressing that parfc of his 
 reply which was much the longest part, his reply was, 
 "A pair of braces." "Now I'll tell you," says I, "what 
 I'm a going to do with you. I'm a going to fetch you 
 haif-a-dozen pair of the primest braces in the cart, and 
 then to take her away with me." Says Mim (again 
 ferocious), "I'll believe it when I've got the goods, and 
 no sooner. " I made all the haste I could, lest he should 
 think twice of it, and the bargain was completed. 
 
 It was happy days for both of us when Sophy and 
 me began to travel in the cart. I at once give her the 
 name of Sophy, to put her ever toward me in the atti- 
 tude of my own daughter. We soon made out to begin 
 to understand one another, through the goodness of the 
 Heavens, when she knowed that I meant true and kind 
 by her. In a very little time she was wonderful fond of 
 me. You have no idea what it is to have anybody 
 wonderful fond of you, unless you have been got down 
 and rolled upon by the lonely feelings that I have men- 
 tioned as having once got the better of me. 
 
 You'd have laughed — or the rewerse — it's according 
 
180 
 
 DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS 
 
 to your disposition — if you could have seen me trying to 
 teach Sophy. At first I was helped — you'd never guess 
 by what — milestones. I got some large alphabets in a 
 box, all the letters separate on bits of bone, and saying 
 we was going to Windsor, I give her those letters in 
 that order, and then at every milestone I showed her 
 those same letters in 
 that same order again, 
 and pointed toward 
 the abode of royalty. 
 Another time I give 
 her CART, and then 
 chalked the same 
 upon the cart. An- 
 other time I give her 
 DOCTOR MARI- 
 GOLD, and hung a 
 corresponding in- 
 scription outside my 
 waistcoat. People 
 that met us might 
 stare a bit and laugh, 
 but what did I care, 
 if she caught the idea f She caught it after long patience 
 and trouble, and then we did begin to get on swimmingly, 
 I believe you ! At first she was a little given to con- 
 sider me the cart, and the cart the abode of royalty, but 
 that soon wore off. 
 
 We had our signs, too, and they was hundreds in 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 181 
 
 number. Sometimes she would sit looking at me and 
 considering hard how to communicate with me about 
 something fresh — how to ask me what she wanted ex- 
 plained, — and then she was (or I thought she was) so 
 like my child with those years added to her, that I half - 
 believed it was herself, trying to tell me where she had 
 been to up in the skies, and what she had seen since 
 that unhappy night when she flied away. She had a 
 pretty face, and now that there was no one to drag at 
 her bright dark hair, and it was all in order, there was 
 a something touching in her looks that made the cart 
 most peaceful and most quiet, though not at all melan- 
 choly. 
 
 The way she learnt to understand any look of mine 
 was truly surprising. When I sold of a night, she would 
 sit in the cart unseen by them outside, and would give a 
 eager look into my eyes when I looked in, and would 
 hand me straight the precise article or articles I wanted. 
 And then she would clap her hands, and laugh for joy. 
 And as for me, seeing her so bright, and remembering 
 what she was when I first lighted on her, starved and 
 beaten and ragged, leaning asleep against the muddy 
 cart-wheel, it give me such heart that I gained a greater 
 heighth of reputation than ever, and I put Pickleson 
 down for a fypunnote in my will. 
 
 This happiness went on in the cart till she was sixteen 
 year old. By which time I began to feel not satisfied 
 that I had done my whole duty by her, and to consider 
 that she ought to have better teaching than I could give 
 
182 
 
 doctor marigold's prescriptions. 
 
 her. It drew a many tears on both sides when I com- 
 menced explaining my views to her ; but what's right is 
 right, and yon can't neither by tears nor laughter do 
 away with its character. 
 
 So I took her hand in mine, and I went with her one 
 day to the Deaf and Dumb Establishment in London, 
 and when the gentleman come to speak to us, I says to 
 him: "Now I'll tell you what I'll do with you, sir. I 
 
He Saw Her Listening to Him ! " Page 82. 
 

 wM 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 183 
 
 am nothing but a Cheap Jack, but of late years I have 
 laid by for a rainy day notwithstanding. This is my 
 only daughter (adopted), and you can't produce a deaf er 
 nor a dumber. Teach her the most that can be taught 
 her in the shortest separation that can be named, — state 
 the figure for it, — and I am game to put the money down. 
 I won't bate you a single farthing, sir, but I'll put down 
 the money here and now, and I'll thankfully throw you 
 in a pound to take it. There ! " The gentleman smiled, 
 and then, "Well, well," says he, "I must first know 
 what she has learned already. How do you communicate 
 with her ! " Then I showed him, and she wrote in printed 
 writing many names of things and so forth ; and we held 
 some sprightly conversation, Sophy and me, about a 
 little story in a book which the gentleman showed her, 
 and which she was able to read. "This is most extraor- 
 dinary, " says the gentleman; "is it possible that you 
 have been her only teacher ! " "I have been her only 
 teacher, sir," I says, "besides herself." "Then," says 
 the gentleman, and more acceptable words was never 
 spoke to me, "you're a clever fellow, and a good fellow." 
 This he makes known to Sophy, who kisses his hands, 
 claps her own, and laughs and cries upon it. 
 
 We saw the gentleman four times in all, and when he 
 took down my name and asked how in the world it ever 
 chanced to be Doctor, it come out that he was own 
 nephew by the sister's side, if you'll believe me, to the 
 very Doctor that I was called after. This made our 
 footing still easier, and he says to me: 
 
184 DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTION'S. 
 
 "Now, Marigold, tell me what more do you want your 
 adopted daughter to kuow ! " 
 
 "I want her, sir, to be cut off from the world as little 
 as can be, considering her deprivations, and therefore to 
 be able to read whatever is wrote with perfect ease and 
 pleasure. " 
 
 "My good fellow, " urges the gentleman, opening his 
 eyes wide, "why I can't do that myself! " 
 
 I took his joke, and gave him a laugh and I mended 
 my words accordingly. 
 
 "What do you mean to do with her afterward? " asks 
 the gentleman, with a sort of a doubtful eye. "To take 
 her about the country 1 " 
 
 "In the cart, sir, but only in the cart. She will live a 
 private life, you understand, in the cart. I should never 
 think of bringing her infirmities before the public. I 
 wouldn't make a show of her for any money." 
 
 The gentleman nodded, and seemed to approve. 
 
 "Well," says he, "can you part with her for two 
 years f " 
 
 " To do her that good — yes, sir. " 
 
 "There's another question," says the gentleman, look- 
 ing toward her, — " can she part with you for two 
 years?" 
 
 I don't know that it was a harder matter of itself (for 
 the other was hard enough to me), but it was harder to 
 get over. However, she was pacified to it at last, and 
 the separation betwixt us was settled. How it cut up 
 both of us when it took place, and when I left her at 
 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 185 
 
 the door in the dark of an evening, I don't tell. But 
 I know this; remembering that night, I shall never 
 pass that same establishment without a heartache and a 
 swelling in the throat ; and I couldn't put you up the 
 best of lots in sight of it with my usual spirit, — no, not 
 even the gun, nor the pair of spectacles, — for five hun- 
 dred pound reward from the Secretary of State for the 
 Home Department, and throw in the honor of putting 
 my legs under his mahogany arterward. 
 
 Still, the loneliness that followed in the cart was not 
 the old loneliness, because there was a term put to it, 
 however long to look forward to ; and because I could 
 think, when I was anyways down, that she belonged to 
 me and I belonged to her. Always planning for her 
 coming back, I bought in a few months' time another 
 cart, and what do you think I planned to do with it? 
 I'll tell you. I planned to fit it up with shelves and 
 books for her reading, and to have a seat in it where I 
 could sit and see her read, and think that I had been her 
 first teacher. Not hurrying over the job, I had the fit- 
 tings knocked together in contriving ways under my own 
 inspection, and here was her bed in a berth with curtains, 
 and there was her reading-table, and here was her writ- 
 ing-desk, and elsewhere was her books in rows upon rows, 
 picters and no picters, bindings and no bindings, gilt- 
 edged and plain, just as I could pick 'em up for her in 
 lots up and down the country. And when I had got to- 
 gether pretty well as many books as the cart would neatly 
 hold, a new scheme come into my head, which, as it 
 
V 
 
 186 DOCTOR marigold's prescriptions. 
 
 turned out, kept my time and attention a good deal em- 
 ployed, and helped me over the two years' stile. 
 
 Without being of an awaricious temper, I like to be 
 the owner of things. I shouldn't wish, for instance, 
 to go partners with yourself in the Cheap Jack cart. 
 Well! A kind of a jealousy began to creep into my 
 mind when I reflected that all those books would have 
 been read by other people long before they was read 
 by her. It seemed to take away from her being the 
 owner of 'em like. In this way, the question got into 
 my head: Couldn't I have a book new-made express for 
 her, which she should be the first to read f 
 
 It pleased me, that thought did ; and as I never was a 
 man to let a thought sleep (you must wake up all the 
 whole family of thoughts you've got and burn their 
 nightcaps, or you won't do in the Cheap Jack line), I 
 set to work at it. Considering that I was in the habit of 
 changing so much about the country, and that I should 
 have to find out a literary character here to make a deal 
 with, and another literary character there to make a deal 
 with, as opportunities presented, I hit on the plan that 
 this same book should be a general miscellaneous lot, — 
 like the razors, flat-iron, chronometer watch, dinner 
 plates, rolling-pin, and looking-glass, — and shouldn't be 
 offered as a single indiwidual article, like the spectacles 
 or the gun. When I had come to that conclusion, I 
 come to another, which shall likewise be yours. 
 
 Often had I regretted that she never had heard me on 
 the footboard, and that she never could hear me. It 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 1S7 
 
 ain't that Jam vain, but that you don't like to put your 
 own light under a bushel. What's the worth of your 
 reputation, if you can't convey the reason for it to the 
 person you most wish to value it f Not worth a farthing. 
 Very well, then. My conclusion was that I would begin 
 her book with some account of myself. So that, through 
 reading a specimen or two of me on the footboard, she 
 might form an idea of my merits there. 
 
 Well ! Having formed that resolution, then come the 
 question of a name. How did I hammer that hot iron 
 into shape 1 ? This way. The most difficult explanation 
 I had ever had with her was, how I come to be called 
 Doctor, and yet was no Doctor. After all, I felt that I 
 had failed of getting it correctly into her mind, with my 
 utmost pains. But trusting to her improvement in the 
 two years, I thought that I might trust to her under- 
 standing it when she should come to read it as put down 
 by my own hand. Then I thought I would try a joke 
 with her and watch how it took, by which of itself I 
 might fully judge of her understanding it. We had first 
 discovered the mistake we had dropped into, through 
 her having asked me to prescribe for her when she had 
 supposed me to be a Doctor in a medical point of view ; 
 so thinks I, "Now, if I give this book the name of my 
 Prescriptions, and if she catches the idea that my only 
 Prescriptions are for her amusement and interest, — to 
 make her laugh in a pleasant way, or to make her cry 
 in a pleasant way, — it will be a delightful proof to both 
 of us that we have got over our difficulty. " It fell out 
 
188 
 
 DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 to absolute perfection. For when she saw the book, as 
 I had it got up, — the printed and pressed book, — lying 
 on her desk in her cart, and saw the title, Dr. Mari- 
 gold's Prescriptions, she looked at me for a moment 
 with astonishment, then fluttered the leaves, then broke 
 out a laughing in the charmingest way, then felt her 
 pulse and shook her head, then turned the pages pre- 
 tending to read them most attentive, then kissed the 
 book to me, and put 
 it to her bosom with 
 both her hands. I 
 never was better 
 pleased in all my 
 life! 
 
 But let me not an- 
 ticipate. (I take that 
 expression out of a 
 lot of romances I 
 bought for her. I 
 never opened a single 
 one of 'em — and I 
 have opened many — 
 but I found the ro- 
 mancer saying "let 
 me not anticipate. " 
 Which being so, I 
 
 wonder why he did anticipate, or who asked him to do 
 it.) Let me not, I say, anticipate. This same book 
 took up all my spare time. It was no play to get the 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 189 
 
 other articles together in the general miscellaneous lot, 
 but when it come to my own article ! There ! I 
 couldn't have believed the blotting, nor yet the buck- 
 ling to at it, nor the patience over it. Which again 
 is like the footboard. The public have no idea. 
 
 At last it was done, and the two years' time was gone. 
 The new cart was finished, — yellow outside, relieved 
 with wermilion and brass fittings, — the old horse was 
 put in it, a new 'un and a boy being laid on for the 
 Cheap Jack cart, — and I cleaned myself up to go and 
 fetch her. Bright cold weather it was, cart-chimneys 
 smoking, carts pitched private on a piece of waste 
 ground over at Wandsworth, where you may see 'em 
 from the Sou'western Railway when not upon the 
 road. 
 
 "Marigold," says the gentleman, giving his hand 
 hearty, " I am very glad to see you. " 
 
 "Yet I have my doubts, sir/' says I, "if you can be 
 half as glad to see me as I am to see you." 
 
 "The time has appeared so long, — has it, Marigold? " 
 
 "I won't say that, sir, considering its real length; 
 but » 
 
 "What a start, my good fellow! " 
 
 Ah ! I should think it was ! Grown such a woman, 
 so pretty, so intelligent, so expressive! I knew then 
 that she must be really like my child, or I could never 
 have known her, standing quiet by the door. 
 
 "You are affected," says the gentleman in a kindly 
 manner. 
 
190 DOCTOR marigold's prescriptions. 
 
 "I feel, sir," says I, "that I ara but a rough chap in a 
 sleeved waistcoat. " 
 
 "I feel," says the gentleman, "that it was you who 
 raised her from misery and degradation, and brought 
 her into communication with her kind. But why do we 
 converse alone together, when we can converse so well 
 with her ! Address her in your own way. " 
 
 "I am such a rough chap in a sleeved waistcoat, sir," 
 says I, "and she is such a graceful woman, and she 
 stands so quiet at the door ! " 
 
 "Try if she moves at the old sign," says the gentleman. 
 
 They had got it up together o' purpose to please me! 
 For when I give her the old sign, she rushed to my feet, 
 and dropped upon her knees, holding up her hands to 
 me with pouring tears of love and joy; and when I took 
 her hands and lifted her, she clasped me round the neck, 
 and lay there; and I don't know what a fool I didn't 
 make of myself, until we all three settled down into 
 talking without sound, as if there was a something soft 
 and pleasant spread over the whole world for us. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 TO BE TAKEN FOR LIFE. 
 
 So every item of my plan was crowned with success. 
 Our reunited life was more than all that we had looked 
 forward to. Content and joy went with us as the wheels 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 191 
 
 of the two carts went round, and the same stopped with 
 us when the two carts stopped. I was as pleased and as 
 proud as a Pug-Dog with his muzzle black-leaded for a 
 evening party, and his tail extra curled by machinery. 
 
 But I had left something out of my calculations. 
 
 We were down at Lancaster, and I had done two 
 nights more than fair average business in the open 
 square there, near the end of the street where Mr. Sly's 
 King's Arms and Eoyal Hotel stands. Mim's travelling 
 giant, otherwise Pickleson, happened at the self-same 
 time to be trying it on in the town. 
 
 I went to the Auction Boom, and I found it entirely 
 empty of everything but echoes and mouldiness, with 
 the single exception of Pickleson on a piece of red 
 drugget. This suited my purpose, as I wanted a 
 private and confidential word with him, which was: 
 "Pickleson. Owing much happiness to you, I put you 
 in my will for a fypunnote ; but, to save trouble, here's 
 fourpunten down, which may equally suit your views, 
 and let us so conclude the transaction. " Pickleson, who 
 up to that remark had had the dejected appearance of a 
 long Boman rushlight that couldn't anyhow get lighted, 
 brightened up at his top extremity, and made his ac- 
 knowledgments in a way which (for him) was parlia- 
 mentary eloquence. He likewise did add, that, having 
 ceased to draw as a Boman, Mim had made proposals for 
 his going in as a conwerted Indian Giant worked upon 
 by The Dairyman's Daughter. 
 
 But what was to the present point in the remarks of 
 
192 DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 tile travelling giant, otherwise Pickleson, was this: 
 "Doctor Marigold, who is the strange young man that 
 hangs about your carts'?" — " The strange young* man t n 
 I gives him back, thinking that he meant her, and his 
 languid circulatitn had dropped a syllable. "Doctor," 
 he returns, with a pathos calculated to draw a tear from 
 even a manly eye, "I am weak, but not so weak yet as 
 that I don't know my words. I repeat them, Doctor. 
 The strange young man. " 
 
 It put me rather out of sorts. What it meant as to 
 particulars I no more foreboded then than you forebode 
 now, but it put me rather out of sorts. Howsoever, I 
 made light of it, and I took leave of Pickleson, advising 
 him to spend his legacy in getting up his stamina, and 
 to continue to stand by his religion. Toward morning I 
 kept a lookout for the strange young man, and — what 
 was more — I saw the strange young man. He was well- 
 dressed and well -looking. He loitered very nigh my 
 carts, watching them like as if he was taking care of 
 them, and soon after daybreak turned and went away. 
 I sent a hail after him, but he never started or looked 
 round, or took the smallest notice. 
 
 "We left Lancaster within an hour or two, on our way 
 toward Carlisle. Xext morning, at daybreak, I looked 
 out again for the strange young man. I did not see him. 
 But next morning I looked out again, and there he was 
 once more. I sent another hail after him, but as before 
 he gave not the slightest sign of being anyways disturbed. 
 This put a thought into my head. Acting on it I watched 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 193 
 
 him in different manners and at different times not neces- 
 sary to enter into, till I found that this strange young 
 man was deaf and dumb. 
 
 The discovery turned me over, because I knew that a 
 part of that establishment where she had been was al- 
 lotted to young men (some of them well off), and I 
 thought to myself, "If she favors him, where am I? and 
 where is all that I have worked and planned for?" 
 Hoping — I must confess to the selfishness — that she 
 might not favor him, I set myself to find out. At last 
 I was by accident present at a meeting between them in 
 the open air, looking on leaning behind a fir-tree without 
 their knowing of it. It was a moving meeting for all 
 the three parties concerned. I knew every syllable that 
 passed between them as well as they did. I listened 
 with my eyes, which had come to be as quick aud true 
 with deaf and dumb conversation as my ears with the 
 talk of people that can speak. He was a going out to 
 China as clerk in a merchant's house, which his father 
 had been before him. He was in circumstances to keep 
 a wife, and he wanted her to marry him and go along 
 with him. She persisted, no. He asked if she didn't 
 love him. Yes, she loved him dearly, dearly; but she 
 could never disappoint her beloved, good, noble, gener- 
 ous, and I-don't-know-what-all father (meaning me, the 
 Cheap Jack in the sleeved waistcoat), and she would stay 
 with him, Heaven bless him ! though it was to break her 
 heart. Then she cried most bitterly, and that made up 
 my mind. 
 
194 doctor marigold's prescriptions^ 
 
 While my mind had been in an unsettled state about 
 her favoring this young man, I had felt that unreasonable 
 toward Pickleson, that it was well for him he had got his 
 legacy down. For I often thought, "If it hadn't been 
 for this same weak-minded giant, I might never have 
 come to trouble my head and wex my soul about the 
 young man." But, once that I knew she loved him, — 
 once that I had seen her weep for him, — it was a differ- 
 ent thing. I made it right in my mind with Pickleson 
 on the spot, and I shook myself together to do what was 
 right by all. 
 
 She had left the young man by that time (for it took 
 a few minutes to get me thoroughly well shook together), 
 and the young man was leaning against another of the 
 fir-trees, — of which there was a cluster, — with his face 
 upon his arm. I touched him on the back. Looking up 
 and seeing me, he says, in our deaf-and-dumb talk, "Do 
 not be angry. " 
 
 " I am not angry, good boy. I am your friend. Come 
 with me." 
 
 I left him at the foot of the steps of the Library Cart, 
 and I went up alone. She was drying her eyes. 
 
 "You have been crying, my dear." 
 
 "Yes, father." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "A headache." 
 
 "Not a heartache?" 
 
 "I said a headache, father." 
 
 "Doctor Marigold must prescribe for that headache." 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 195 
 
 She took up the book of my Prescriptions, and held it 
 up with a forced smile ; but seeing me keep still and 
 look earnest, she softly laid it down again, and her eyes 
 were very attentive. 
 
 "The Prescription is not there, Sophy." 
 
 "Where is it?" 
 
 "Here, my dear." 
 
 I brought her young husband in, and I put her hand 
 in his, and my only farther words to both of them were 
 these: "Doctor Marigold's last Prescription. To be 
 taken for life." After which I bolted. 
 
 When the wedding come off, I mounted a coat (blue, 
 and bright buttons), for the first and last time in all my 
 days, and I give Sophy away with my own hand. There 
 were only us three and the gentleman who had had 
 charge of her for those two years. I give the wedding 
 dinner of four in the Library Cart. Pigeon-pie, a leg of 
 pickled pork, a pair of fowls, and suitable garden stuff. 
 The best of drinks. I give them a speech, and the 
 gentleman give us a speech, and all our jokes told, and 
 the Avhole w r ent off like a sky-rocket. In the course of 
 the entertaiument I explained to Sophy that I should 
 keep the Library Cart as my living-cart when not upon 
 the road, and that I should keep all her books for her 
 just as they stood, till she come back to claim them. So 
 she went to China with her young husband, and it was a 
 parting sorrowful and heavy, and I got the boy I had 
 another service; and so as of old, when my child 
 and wife were gone, I w r ent plodding along alone, 
 
196 DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 with my whip over my shoulder, at the old horse's 
 head. 
 
 Sophy wrote me many letters, and I wrote her many 
 letters. About the end of the first year she sent me one 
 in an unsteady hand: " Dearest father, not a week ago I 
 had a darling little daughter, but I am so well that they 
 let me write these words to you. Dearest and best 
 father, I hope my child may not be deaf and dumb, but 
 I do not yet know. " When I wrote back, I hinted the 
 question ; but as Sophy never answered that question, I 
 felt it to be a sad one, and I never repeated it. For a 
 long time our letters were regular, but then they got 
 irregular, through Sophy's husband being moved to an- 
 other station, and through my being always on the move. 
 But we were in one another's thoughts, I was equally 
 sure, letters or no letters. 
 
 Five years, odd months, had gone since Sophy went 
 away. I was still the King of the Cheap Jacks, and at 
 a greater height of popularity than ever. I had had a 
 first-rate autumn of it, and on the twenty-third of De- 
 cember, one thousand eight hundred and sixty-four, I 
 found myself at "Oxbridge, Middlesex, clean sold out. 
 So I jogged up to London with the old horse, light and 
 easy, to have my Christmas-eve and Christmas-day alone 
 by the fire in the Library Cart, and then to buy a regular 
 new stock of goods all round, to sell 'em again and get 
 the money. 
 
 I am a neat hand at cookery, and I'll tell you what I 
 knocked up for my Christmas-eve dinner in the Library 
 
DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 197 
 
 Cart. I knocked up a beefsteak-pudding for one, with 
 two kidneys, a dozen oysters, and a couple of mushrooms 
 thrown in. It's a pudding to put a man in good humor 
 with everything, except the two bottom buttons of his 
 waistcoat. Having relished that pudding and cleared 
 away, I turned the lamp low, and sat down by the light 
 of the fire, watching it as it shone upon the backs of 
 Sophy's books. 
 
 Sophy's books so brought up Sophy's self, that I saw 
 her touching face quite plainly, before I dropped off 
 dozing by the fire. This may be a reason why Sophy, 
 with her deaf-and-dumb child in her arms, seemed to 
 stand silent by me all through my nap. I was on the 
 road, off the road, in all sorts of places, and still she 
 stood silent by me, with her silent child in her arms. 
 Even when I woke with a start, she seemed to vanish, 
 as if she had stood by me in that very place only a single 
 instant before. 
 
 I had started at a real sound, and the sound was on 
 the steps of the cart. It was the light hurried tread of 
 a child, coming clambering up. That tread of a child 
 had once been so familiar to me, that for half a moment 
 I believed I was a going to see a little ghost. 
 
 But the touch of a real child was laid upon the outer 
 handle of the door, and the handle turned, and the door 
 opened a little way, and a real child peeped in. A 
 bright little comely girl with large dark eyes. 
 
 Looking full at me, the tiny creature took off her mite 
 of a straw hat, and a quantity of dark curls fell all about 
 
193 DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S PRESCRIPTIONS. 
 
 her face. Then she opened her lips, and said in a pretty 
 voice, 
 
 " Grandfather!" 
 
 "Ah, my God! " I cries out. "She can speak! " 
 
 " Yes, dear grandfather. And I am to ask you whether 
 there was ever any one that I remind you of? " 
 
 In a moment Sophy was round my neck, as well as the 
 child, and her husband was a wringing my hand with 
 his face hid, and we all had to shake ourselves together 
 before we could get over it. And when we did begin to 
 get over it, and I saw the pretty child a talking, pleased 
 and quick and eager and busy, to her mother, in the 
 signs that I had first taught her mother, the happy and 
 yet pitying tears fell rolling down my face. 
 

 ILLUSTRATED NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 By 
 Rev. J. G. Wood 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Works on Natural History are always favorite reacU 
 ing to the young, and this volume is an attempt to 
 supply the juvenile population with a book which, in 
 addition to accurate information and clear arrangement, 
 will be attractive by its numerous illustrations. These 
 not only give the reader a better idea of these strange 
 creatures than mere descriptions can do, but have 
 enabled us to be as brief as possible in our accounts of 
 their appearance and habits. While we have studied 
 brevity, care has been taken to give all necessary infor- 
 mation, and especial pains has been bestowed on the 
 descriptions of the birds and beasts of our own country. 
 In all cases for both illustrations and descriptions the 
 latest authorities have been consulted. 
 
 New York, 
 
 October 1, 1899. 
 
HEAD OF THE PREHISTORIC MAN {Restored). 
 
 The above head is drawn on the basis of the skull found in 
 1857 at Neanderthal, near Diisseldorf, in Germany, and sup- 
 posed to be the cranium of a prehistoric man. It is dolicho- 
 cephalic, and almost without a brow. 
 
Gorillas. 
 
WOOD'S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 QUADRUMANA 
 
 This section includes the apes, baboons v and monkeys. 
 The name of Quadrumana, or four-handed, is given tc 
 these animals because their feet are formed like hands, 
 and are capable of grasping the branches along whicfc 
 most monkeys live. Apes are placed at the head of the 
 Quadrumana because their instinct is superior to that 
 of the baboons and monkeys. The former are sullen 
 and ferocious, when arrived at their full growth, and 
 monkeys are volatile and mischievous. 
 
 The Gorilla, the most man-like of the apes, lives in 
 the forests of Africa. It is shorter but broader than 
 the average man, being about five feet and a half high 
 and about thirty-eight inches from shoulder to shoulder. 
 The neck is short, the forehead retreating, the nose 
 flat, the arms very long and strong, the jaws enormous 
 with large canine teeth. The body is covered with 
 iron -gray hair, while the hair on the head is reddish. 
 Its favorite food is the wild sugar-cane and nuts. 
 When attacked by hunters, it beats its breast with its 
 huge paws, gives terrible roars, and if not fatalty 
 wounded at once, flings itself on the hunter, crushing 
 both the weapon and the man. 
 
 The Chimpanzee is a native of Western Africa, and 
 large bands of these apes congregate together in repel- 
 
 7 
 
8 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 ling an invader. Even the dreaded elephant and lion 
 are chased away by their united efforts. They live 
 principally on the ground, and as their name imports, 
 
 SIDE VIEW OF HEAD OF CHIMPANZEE 
 
 spend much of their time in caves and under rocks. 
 Their height is from four to five feet. Several young 
 Chimpanzees have shown themselves very docile an I 
 gentle in captivity. 
 
 The Orang-outan inhabits Borneo and Suma^a 
 

 ORANGS IN THEIR NATIVE WOODS 
 
10 wood's natural history 
 
 Next to the gorilla, this is the largest of all the apes, many 
 being above five feet in height. The strength of this 
 animal is tremendous. Its arms are of extraordinary 
 length, the hands reaching the ground when it stands 
 erect. This length of arm is admirably adapted for 
 climbing trees, on which it principally resides. 
 
 The orangs are dull and slothful. " I never observed 
 the slightest attempt at defence," a traveller writes ; 
 " and the wood, which sometimes rattled about our 
 ears, was broken by their weight, and not thrown, as 
 some persons represent. If pushed to extremity, how- 
 ever, they are formidable ; and one unfortunate man, 
 who was trying to catch one alive, lost two of his fin- 
 gers, besides being severely bitten on the face, while 
 the animal finally beat off his pursuers and escaped. 
 
 " The rude hut which they build in the trees is more 
 properly a seat, or nest, for it has no roof or cover of 
 any sort. The speed with which they form this seat is 
 curious ; a wounded female has been seen to weave the 
 branches together, and seat herself in a minute. She 
 afterward received the fire without moviug, and died in 
 her lofty abode, whence it cost much trouble to dislodge 
 her. 
 
 " I saw a young Orang-outan. It had a very 
 small and very round body, with very long and slender 
 limbs. Its face was like that of an old miser thorough^ 
 wearied of life. The lips appeared to express its feelings 
 much in the same manner as do the ears of a horse. When 
 it was alarmed or astonished at any object it would shoot 
 out both its lips, and form its mouth into a trumpet 
 
wood's natural history 11 
 
 shape. A snail made it produce this contortion of 
 countenance. 
 
 "The creature was very tame, and delighted in walk- 
 ing about the garden leaning on the arm of its keeper, 
 and if any lady would venture to be its guide, it 
 appeared as happy as could be." 
 
 When young the Orang-outan is very docile, and has 
 been taught to make its own bed, and to handle a cup 
 and saucer, or a spoon, with propriety. It exhibited 
 much ingenuity in stealing blankets from other beds, 
 which it added to its own. A young Orang evinced 
 extreme horror at the sight of a small tortoise, and 
 when it was placed in its den, stood aghast in a most 
 ludicrously terrified attitude, with its eyes intently 
 fixed on the frightful object. 
 
 The Agile Gibbon is a native of Sumatra. It derives 
 its name of Agile from the wonderful activity it dis- 
 plays in leaping from branch to branch. One of these 
 creatures sprang with the greatest ease through dis- 
 tances of eighteen feet ; and when apples or nuts were 
 thrown to her while in the air, she would catch them 
 without discontinuing her course. The height of the 
 Gibbon is about three feet, and the reach of the extended 
 arms about six feet. 
 
 The Kahau is a native of Borneo. It derives its name 
 from its cry, which is a repetition of the word " Kahau." 
 It is remarkable for the extraordinary size and shape of 
 its nose, and the natives relate that while leaping it 
 holds it with its paws, apparently to guard it against 
 the branches. 
 
12 
 
 k 'd 
 
 WOODS NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 The length of the animal from the head to the tip of 
 the tail is about four feet four inches ; and its general 
 
 THE MANDRILL 
 
 color is a sandy red, relieved by yellow cheeks and a 
 yellow stripe over the shoulders. 
 
 We now arrive at the Baboons. They are distin- 
 
GOBIIiliAS. 
 
14 wood's natueal history 
 
 guished from the apes by their short tails. The Man- 
 drill, the most conspicuous of the baboon tribe, is a 
 native of Guinea and Western Africa, and is chiefly 
 remarkable for its vivid colors. Its cheeks are of a 
 brilliant blue, its muzzle of a bright scarlet, and a stripe 
 of crimson runs along the centre of its nose. It lives in 
 forests with brush wood. On this account it is much 
 dreaded by the natives. It is excessively ferocious, and 
 easily excited to anger. 
 
 The American Monkeys are found exclusively in South 
 America, and are never seen north of Panama. Their 
 tails are invariably long, and, in some genera, prehensile. 
 
 The Coaita is one of the Spider Monkeys, so called 
 from their long slender limbs and their method of pro- 
 gressing among the branches. The tail answers the 
 purpose of a fifth hand ; indeed, the Spider Monkeys 
 are said to use this member for hooking out objects 
 where a hand could not be inserted. The tail is also of 
 use in climbing ; they coil it round the boughs to lower 
 or raise themselves, and often will suspend themselves 
 entirely by it, and then swing off to some distant 
 branch. They are sensitive to cold, and when chilly 
 wrap their tail about them, so that it answers the pur- 
 pose of a boa as well as a hand. When shot, they will 
 fasten their tail so firmly on the branches that they 
 remain suspended after death. In walking, they cast 
 their tail upward as high as the shoulders, and then 
 bend it over so as to form a counterbalance against the 
 weight of the body. In most of the species the thumb 
 is wanting. The Coaita inhabits Surinam and Guinea 
 
WOODS NATUKAL HISTORY 
 
 15 
 
 The Howling Monkeys are larger and not so agile as 
 the Spider Monkeys, and derive their name from an 
 
 MARMOSETS 
 
 enlargement in the throat which renders their cry 
 exceedingly loud and mournful. 
 
 They howl in concert, principally at the rising and 
 setting of the sun ; one monkey begins the cry, which 
 
16 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 <£'§ A 
 
 TYPICAL SPIDER MONKEYS 
 
 is gradually taken up by the rest. They are in great 
 request among the natives as articles of food, their slow 
 habits rendering them an easy prey. 
 
wood's natural history 17 
 
 The Ursine Howler, or Araguato, is common in Bra- 
 zil, where fifty have been observed on one tree. They 
 generally travel in files, an old monkey taking the 
 lead, and the others following in due order. They feed 
 on leaves and fruit ; the tail is prehensile like that of 
 the Spider Monkeys. 
 
 The Marmoset is a most interesting little creature. 
 It is exceedingly sensitive to cold, and usually nestles 
 among the materials for its bed. It will eat almost any 
 article of food, but is very fond of insects. It will also 
 eat fruits. 
 
 This pretty little Monkey is also called the Ouistiti, 
 from its peculiar whistling cry when alarmed or 
 provoked. 
 
 The Lemurs derive their name from their nocturnal' 
 habits and their noiseless movements. The Ruffled 
 Lemur is a native of Madagascar. It lives in the : 
 depths of the forests, and only moves by night, the 
 entire day being spent in sleep. Its food consists of 
 fruits, insects, and small birds, which latter it takes 
 while they are sleeping. This is the largest of the 
 Lemurs, being rather larger than a cat.. 
 
 The Slender Loris is a native of India, Ceylon, etc. 
 It, like the Lemur, seldom moves by day, but prowls 
 about at night in search of food. 
 
 WING-HANDED ANIMALS 
 
 We now arrive at the Bats, or Cheiroptera, whose 
 fore-paws, or hands, are developed into wings by a thin 
 membrane. 
 
K 
 
 18 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 The usual food of Bats is insects, which they mostly 
 capture on the wing ; but some, as the Vampires, suck 
 
 LONG-EARED BAT 
 
 blood from other animals, and a few, as the Kalong or 
 Flying Fox, live upon fruits. Even the cocoanut is 
 not secure from their depredations. 
 
 The membrane of the wing 1 is extremely sensitive, 
 
wood's natural history 19 
 
 and the elongation of the finger joints gives the animal 
 the power of extending or folding it. When the Bat 
 wishes to walk, it half folds the membrane, and assumes 
 an attitude represented in the cut of the Long-eared Bat. 
 
 The thumb joint has no part of the wing attached to it, 
 but is left free, and is armed with a hook at the extremity 
 by means of which it is enabled to drag itself along. 
 
 The Vampire Bat is a native of South America. It 
 lives on the blood of animals, and sucks usually while 
 its victim sleeps. The extremities, where the blood 
 flows freely, as the toe of a man, the ears of a horse, or 
 the combs and wattles of fowls, are its favorite spots. 
 When it has selected a subject it watches until the 
 animal is fairly asleep. It then fans its victim 
 with its wings while it bites a little hole in the ear, 
 and through this small hole, into which a pin's head 
 would scarcely pass, it sucks up a very ample meal. 
 The victim does not discover anything until the morn- 
 ing, when a pool of blood betrays the visit of the 
 Vampire. 
 
 The wound made by the teeth is no larger than that 
 made hy a needle, and the blood must be extracted by 
 suction. The membrane on its nose resembles a leaf. 
 The length of its body is about six inches. 
 
 The Long-eared Bat may be seen on warm evenings 
 flying about in search of insects, and uttering its pecul- 
 iar shrill cry. It is easily tamed, and will take flies 
 and other insects from the hand. It will hang by the 
 wing-hooks during the whole of the day, but in the 
 evening becomes very brisk, and eagerly seizes a fly 
 
20 wood's natural history 
 
 or beetle and devours it, always rejecting the head. 
 
 legs, and wings. 
 
 When it is suspended by its hinder claws, it assumes 
 
 a most singular aspect. The beautiful long ears are 
 
 tucked under its wings, which envelop a great part of 
 
 its body 
 
 QUADRUPEDS 
 
 At the head of the Quadrupeds, or four-footed ani- 
 mals, are placed the flesh -eaters, and at the head of 
 them the cat kind are placed, as being the most perfect 
 and beautiful in that section. The cats all take their 
 prey by creeping as near as they can without observa- 
 tion, and then springing upon their victim, which their 
 claws and teeth dash insensible to the ground. Their 
 jaws are powerful, and their teeth long and sharp. 
 Their claws, too, are very long, curved, and sharp, an 
 are drawn back, when not in use, into a sheath whic 
 guards them and keeps them sharp. There are five 
 claws on the fore-feet, and four on the hinder feet. 
 The tongue is very rough, as ma}- be proved by feeling 
 the tongue of a common cat. This roughness is oc- 
 casioned by innumerable little hooks which cover 
 the tongue, point backward, and are used for licking the 
 flesh off the bones of their prey. The bristles of the 
 mouth, or whiskers, are useful in indicating an obstacle 
 when the animal prowls by night. Their eyes are 
 adapted for night work by the pupil expanding so a 
 to take in every ray of light. 
 
 The Lion, "king of beasts," inhabits Africa and 
 certain parts of Asia. 
 
PLYING SQUIRREL. 
 
22 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 
 One of the most striking things connected with the 
 Lion is his voice, which is extremely grand and pecul- 
 iarly striking. It consists, at times, of a low deep 
 moaning, repeated five or six times, ending in faintly 
 audible sighs ; at other times he startles the forest with 
 loud, deep-toned, solemn roars, repeated five or six 
 times in quick succession, each increasing in loudness 
 
 THE BENGAL TIGER 
 
 to the third or fourth, when his voice dies away in five 
 or six low, muffled sounds, very much resembling dis- 
 tant thunder. At times a troop may be heard roarmg 
 in concert, one assuming the lead, and two, three, or 
 four more regularly taking up their parts like persons 
 singing a catch. Lions who have once tasted human 
 flesh are the most to be dreaded, as they will even ven- 
 ture to spring in among a company of men and seize 
 their victim. These lions are called Man-eaters. 
 
 The Lioness is much smaller than the Lion, and is 
 
wood's natural history 23 
 
 destitute of the mane. As a general rule she is fiercer 
 and more active than the male, especially before she 
 has had cubs, or while she is suckling them. They are 
 beautiful, playful little things, and are slightly striped. 
 They have no mane until about two years old. The 
 cubs are remarkably heavy for their age, and about the 
 size of very large cats, but weigh considerably more. 
 
 The Tiger is found only in Asia. In size it is almost 
 equal to the lion, its height being from three to four 
 feet, and its length rather more than eight feet. It 
 has no mane, but it is decorated with black stripes, 
 upon a ground of reddish-yellow fur, which becomes 
 almost white on the under parts of the body. The 
 chase of the Tiger is among the favorite sports in 
 India. A number of hunters assemble, mounted on 
 elephants, and proceed to the spot where a Tiger has 
 been seen in the long grass or jungle. When roused 
 it endeavors to creep away under the grass. The 
 movement of the leaves betrays him, and finding that 
 he cannot escape without being seen, he turns round, 
 and springs at the nearest elephant, endeavoring to 
 clamber up it and attack the party. Many elephants 
 will turn round and run away, regardless of the efforts 
 of their drivers to make them face the tiger. Should, 
 however, the elephants stand firm, a well-directed ball 
 checks the tiger in his spring, and a volley of balls 
 from the backs of the other elephants soon lays him 
 prostrate. 
 
 Tigers are usually taken by the natives in pitfalls, 
 at the bottom of which is planted a bamboo stake, the 
 
24 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 top of which is sharpened into a point. The animal falls 
 on the point and as impaled. 
 
 The Leopard is an inhabitant of Africa, India, and 
 the Indian Islands. A black variety inhabits Java. 
 
 THE PUMA 
 
 Its height is about two feet. It lives on trees, and is 
 called the Tree-tiger by the natives. Nothing can be 
 more beautiful than the elegant and active manner in 
 which the Leopards sport among the branches of the 
 

 M 
 
 O 
 
 3 
 
 w 
 
26 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 trees : at one time they will bound from branch to 
 branch with such rapidity that the eye can scarcely 
 follow them ; then, as if tired, they will suddenly 
 stretch themselves along a branch, so as to be hardly 
 distinguishable from the bark, but start up again on 
 the slightest provocation and again resume their grace- 
 ful antics. It is easily tamed, and expresses great 
 
 
 
 THE OCELOT 
 
 fondness for its keeper, and will play with him like a 
 cat. It is exceedingly fond of some scents, especially 
 preferring lavender water, by means of which it has 
 been taught to perform several tricks. 
 
 The Leopard and Panther are considered the same 
 animal, on the authority of Mr. Gray. 
 
 The Jaguar inhabits America. It is larger and more 
 powerful than the leopard, which it resembles in color, 
 but has a black streak across the chest and a black spot 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 27 
 
 in the centre of the rosettes. It is fond of climbing 
 trees, and chases monkeys successfully, and is said to 
 watch for turtles on the beach, and to scoop out their 
 flesh by turning them on their backs, and inserting its 
 paws between the shells ; and will enter water after 
 
 THE ANGORA CAT 
 
 fish, and capture them in the shallows by striking 
 them out of the water with a blow of its paw. 
 
 The Puma inhabits the whole of America, and is held 
 in much dread by the natives. Its color is a uniform gray, 
 fading into white on the under parts of its body. It lives 
 much on trees, and usually lies along the branches. 
 
 We always speak of this animal as the panther, or 
 " painter," as it is more familiarly pronounced ; some 
 
28 
 
 WOODS NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 term it the cougar, a word contracted from the original 
 elongated unpronounceable Mexican name, " Gou- 
 az'ouara." 
 
 The Ocelot is a native of Mexico and Peru. Its height 
 is about eighteen inches, and its length about three feet. 
 
 THE CANADA LYNX 
 
 It is a most beautiful animal, and is easily tamed. When 
 in a wild state it lives principally on monkeys. 
 
 The domestic Cat differs from the wild Cat hy the 
 form of the tail. That of the domestic Cat is long and 
 tapering, while that of the wild Cat is bushy and 
 short. 
 
 The Cat is known to us as a persevering mouse- and 
 bird-hunter. Kittens but just able to see will bristle 
 up at the touch of a mouse and growl. 
 
Leopard. 
 
30 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 The Cat displays a great affection for her kittens, 
 and her pride when they first rnn about is quite 
 amusing. 
 
 Cats are very fond of aromatic plants and several 
 powerful scents. Valerian or catnip appears to be the 
 
 THE CHETAH, OR HUNTING LEOPARD 
 
 great attraction, for they will come in numbers, roll over 
 it, and scratch up the plant until there is not a vestige 
 of it left. 
 
 There are several varieties of the domestic Ca1 
 among which the Angora cats, with their beautiful lonj 
 
WOODS NATURAL HISTORY 31 
 
 fur and the Manx cats of the Chartreuse breed, which 
 have no tails, are the most conspicuous. 
 
 The Lynxes are remarkable for the pencil of hairs 
 which tufts their sharply pointed ears. The Canada 
 Lynx is a native of North America. Its method of 
 progression is by bounds from all four feet at once, 
 with the back arched. It feeds principally on the 
 hare. Its length is about three feet. Its skin forms an 
 important article of commerce. 
 
 The Chetah, or Hunting Leopard, is one of the most 
 graceful animals known. It is a native both of Africa 
 and India, and in the latter country is used for hunting 
 game. The Chetah is either led blindfolded in a chain, 
 or placed upon a cart, and taken to the place where 
 antelopes or deer are feeding. When close enough the 
 hunter takes the band from its eyes. Directly the 
 Chetah sees the deer, it creeps off the cart, and when it 
 has succeeded in approaching, it makes two or three 
 springs, and fastens on the back of one unfortunate 
 deer, and waits until its keeper comes up. It is so 
 easily tamable and so gentle that it is frequently led 
 for sale about the streets by a string. 
 
 The Hyenina, or Hyenas, are remarkable for their fero- 
 cious and cowardly habits. There are several Hyenas, 
 but the habits of all are very similar. The Hyenas, 
 though very repulsive in appearance, are yet very useful, 
 as they prowl in search of dead animals, especially of 
 the larger kinds, and will devour them even when 
 putrid. Their jaws and teeth are exceedingly power- 
 ful, as they can crush the thigh-bone of an ox with 
 
32 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 fc: 
 
 little effort. The skull is very strong, and furnished 
 .with heavy ridges for the support of the muscles which 
 move the jaw. 
 
 The hinder parts of the Hyena are very small, and 
 
 THE SPOTTED HYENA 
 
 give it a strange shambling appearance when walking. 
 The Hyena is easily tamed, and even domesticated. 
 
 The Striped Hyena is found in many parts of Ash 
 and Africa, where it is both a benefit and a pest, foi 
 when dead animals fail it, the flocks and herds are rav- 
 aged, and even man does not always escape. 
 
Jaguar. 
 
fcr 
 
 34 wood's natural history 
 
 The Civets are active little animals averaging about 
 two feet in length. The whole group is celebrated for 
 their perfume, which id of some importance in commerce. 
 It is found only in North Africa. It feeds upon birds 
 and small quadrupeds, which it takes by surprise. 
 
 The Ichneumons, or Mangousts, with their long bodies, 
 short limbs, and slender tails, insinuate themselves 
 into every crevice in search of their food. Snakes, liz- 
 ards, crocodiles' eggs, or even young crocodiles them- 
 selves, form their food, and they are able to secure 
 birds, and even seize upon the swift and wary lizards. 
 
 The Egyptian Ichneumon, or Pharaoh's Rat, as it is 
 sometimes called, is a native of North Africa, and is 
 often domesticated for the purpose of destroying the 
 various snakes and other reptile annoyances, which are 
 such a pest in the houses of hot countries. Its length 
 without the tail is about eighteen inches. 
 
 The Dog Family includes the Dogs, Wolves, Jackals, 
 and Foxes. The first of the Dogs is the Kolsun, or 
 Dhale, which inhabits Bombay and Nepaul. It hunts 
 in packs, and has been known to destroy tigers and 
 chetahs. The Newfoundland was originally brought 
 from Newfoundland. It is often confounded with the 
 Labrador Dog, a larger and more powerful animal. 
 The Newfoundland is well known as a faithful guardian 
 of its master's property. It is remarkably fond of the 
 water, and instances are known of this noble animal 
 saving the lives of people who have fallen into the 
 water. This is one of the largest of the dogs, as it 
 stands nearly two feet two inches in height. 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 85 
 
 There are several varieties of Bloodhounds, in- 
 habiting Cuba, Africa, and England. They all are 
 endowed with a wonderfully acute sense of smell, 
 and can trace a man or animal with almost unerring 
 certainty. 
 
 THE WOLF 
 
 The Foxhound and Beagle are not very dissimilar in 
 form or habits. They both follow game by the scent, 
 and are used in hunting. The height of the foxhound 
 is about twenty-two inches. 
 
 The Beagle is used for hare hunting. It is much 
 
36 wood's natural history 
 
 smaller than the foxhound, and not nearly so swift, but 
 its scent is keener. 
 
 The Pointer is used by sportsmen to point out the 
 spot where the game lies. It then remains, every limb 
 fixed, and the tail pointing straight behind it, until the 
 gun is discharged. 
 
 The group of the Mastiff dogs includes the Mastiff, 
 the Bull-dog, and the little Pug-dog. 
 
 The Mastiff is generally employed as a house-dog. It 
 is by far the most sagacious of the whole group, and 
 exhibits much more attachment to its master than the 
 others. 
 
 The Bull-dog is proverbial for courage and endurance. 
 This dog was extensively used in the cruel sport of ball- 
 baiting. When opposed to the bull the dog would fly 
 at its nose, and there hang in spite of all its struggles. 
 
 The Terriers never grow to any considerable size. 
 These dogs were once used to unearth the fox or the 
 badger, but now are mostly pets, as they are extremely 
 attached to their master, and are capable of learning 
 many amusing tricks. 
 
 The Shepherd's Dog is a rough, shaggy animal, with 
 sharp-pointed ears and nose. It is an invaluable assistant 
 to the shepherd, as it knows all its master's sheep, never 
 suffers them to stray, and when two flocks have mixed, 
 it will separate its own charge with the greatest 
 certainty. 
 
 The Greyhound is the swiftest of all dogs, and is 
 principally used in the pursuit of the hare, which 
 amusement is termed coursing. It hunts by sight. 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 37 
 
 The Wolf has very much the form of a large, long- 
 legged dog with a drooping tail. The hair is long, 
 rough, and thick, of a grayish color mixed with black. 
 In the thickly peopled countries of Europe it has been 
 exterminated, but it is still found in Russia in the 
 steppes, in Spain in the mountains, in Hungary and 
 
 COYOTE 
 
 Lapland, and is common in Central Asia. It is wild 
 and fierce and very destructive to sheep and cattle, 
 and when driven hj hunger has been known to attack 
 travellers. In winter the}^ gather in large packs and 
 become a terrible scourge. The American Wolf is 
 slightly different from that of the Old World. The 
 Gray Wolf is more robust than that of Europe, and 
 ltas a straight and bushy tail. The Black Wolf, in 
 
38 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 the time of Audubon, was not uncommon in Kentucky, 
 but is now found chiefly in Florida. The Red Wolf 
 of Texas is more slender than the others, with a cun- 
 ning, fox-like look. 
 
 The Fox. The habits of this animal are mostly 
 nocturnal. It lies by day concealed in its burrow, or 
 
 ii 
 
 POLECAT 
 
 in the depths of some thicket. Toward evening it 
 sallies out in search of food, and woe to the unfortu- 
 nate hare, rabbit, pheasant, or fowl that comes in its 
 way. 
 
 When irritated, the fox gives out a strong, dis- 
 agreeable scent, which lies so long on the ground 
 that it may be perceived for nearly an hour after 
 the fox has passed. Partly on this account, and partly 
 on account of its speed, endurance, and cunning, the 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 39 
 
 chase of the fox is one of the most popular English 
 sports. 
 
 The Coyote, properly so-called, is a little cur of an 
 animal, scarcely larger than a fox, and is sometimes 
 known as the Indian fox. It has a wolfish head, sharp 
 
 THE PINE MARTEN 
 
 ears, a long muzzle, and rough thick tail. The name 
 Coyote, however, is commonly applied to the Prairie 
 Wolf. It digs its burrow in the prairies, on some 
 slight elevation, to prevent the burrow being filled 
 with water. Its howl resembles very closely the bark 
 of a dog. When buffaloes were numerous thej used 
 to follow the herds, and attack the weak or wounded 
 
40 
 
 WOODS NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 members of the herd. Some of them have been tamed, 
 and they display ail the qualities oi the common dog, 
 and know their masters. The color is a dirty gray 
 passing into a blacker tint on the back. When full 
 grown it measures about four feet. It is found on 
 » the plains of the West and in Mexico. 
 
 The Foumart, or Polecat, is known by its giving 
 out an offensive odor. It is bold and bloodthirsty ; 
 
 
 THE BADGER 
 
 it sucks the blood of its victims and eats their brains, 
 but leaves the body untouched. Its fur is often sold 
 for sable. It destroys game and attacks poultry yards, 
 and does not despise to make its dinner on frogs and 
 fish. In ofTensiveness it cannot be compared to our 
 native skunk. 
 
 The Mustelina, or Weasels, are easily distinguished 
 by their long slender bodies, short muzzle, sharp teeth, 
 and predatory habits. Almost all the Weasels devour 
 
WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 41 
 
 the brain and suck the blood of their prey, but seldom 
 touch the flesh. 
 
 There are two kinds of Martens, the Pine and the 
 Beech Marten. The Pine Marten is not uncommon 
 in North America, where it is much too fond of 
 
 THE AMERICAN BLACK BEAR 
 
 chickens and ducklings to be a desirable neighbor. 
 This animal, as well as the sable, is much sought 
 after on account of its skin, which furnishes a beauti- 
 ful fur. 
 
 The Stoat, or Ermine, is a common English animal. 
 During the winter, the Stoat becomes partially white, 
 in northern countries wholly so, except the tip of the 
 tail, which remains black. In this state it is called 
 
in 
 
 42 wood's natural history 
 
 the Ermine, and is killed in great numbers for the 
 sake of its beautiful and valuable fur. 
 
 The Weasel is the least of this tribe. It wages 
 unrelenting war on rats and mice. 
 
 The Badger. This harmless animal lives at the 
 bottom of deep burrows, in which it passes all the 
 day. When the evening approaches it seeks its food, 
 consisting of roots, fruit, insects, and sometimes young 
 rabbits. 
 
 Its skin is rather valuable, the hair being extensively 
 employed in the manufacture of brushes. The length 
 of the Badger is about twenty-seven inches. 
 
 The Otter seems to play the same part in the water 
 as the weasels on the land. 
 
 It slides noiselessly into the water, turns and twists 
 about below the surface with the same ease as a fish, 
 then, with a sweep of the body, it glides to the surface 
 and ascends the bank with almost the same motion. 
 While below the surface it resembles the seal. 
 
 The Otter is easily tamed, and the Hindoos have 
 brought the art of training them to catch fish to great 
 perfection, and keep their otters regularly tethered 
 with ropes and straw collars on the banks of the river. 
 
 The Bears and their allies are mostly heavy, and 
 walk with the whole foot placed flat on the ground, un- 
 like the cats, dogs, etc., which walk with merely their 
 paws or toes. All the bears are omnivorous, that is, 
 they can eat either animal or vegetable food, so that a 
 leg of mutton, a pot of honey, a potato, and an apple 
 are equally acceptable. 
 
wood's natural history 43 
 
 The Biown Bear inhabits the north of Europe, 
 Switzerland, and the Pyrenees. It is solitary, infests 
 mountains and forests, eats fish and other animals, and 
 subsists partly on fruits and vegetable food. The 
 inhabitants of Northern Europe hunt it, and take it 
 in traps. 
 
 The Black Bear is found in all parts of North Amer- 
 ica. Its total length is about five feet. It prefers 
 vegetable food, but when pressed by hunger will kill 
 and eat small animals. It kills its prey by hugging or 
 squeezing with its fore-paws. Great numbers of black 
 bears are killed for their skins, which have a smooth, 
 glossy fur, and are valuable for cloaks, caps, etc. This 
 animal is an expert climber, is very fond of honey and 
 green corn (maize), and is less fierce and dangerous to 
 man than the brown bear. 
 
 The Grizzly Bear is a native of North America. It 
 is the most ferocious and powerful of its family, and is 
 an animal which must be either avoided or fought, for 
 there is no medium. If a Grizzly once sees a man, it 
 will probably chase him, and will do so with great per- 
 severance. An American traveller was chased nearly 
 thirty miles by one of these bears, which would prob- 
 ably have kept up the chase as many miles more, had 
 the traveller not crossed a wide river, over which the 
 bear did not choose to follow him. 
 
 The Polar, or White Bear, called Nennook by the 
 Esquimaux, lives in the Arctic regions, where it feeds 
 on seals, fish, and even the walrus, as it dives with 
 great ease, and is able to chase the seal amid the waves, 
 
44 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 These bears are often drifted from Greenland to Iceland 
 on fields of ice, and the inhabitants are forced to rise in 
 a body and put an end to their depredations. 
 
 The Raccoon is about the size of a fox, and an in- 
 habitant of Canada and other parts of America. It is 
 
 
 COMMON RACCOON 
 
 said to wash its food before eating it. Its skin is valu- 
 able, and is much sought after. 
 
 The food of the Raccoon is principally small animals 
 and insects. Like a squirrel when eating a nut, the 
 Raccoon usually holds its food between its fore-paws 
 pressed together, and sits upon its hind-quarters while 
 it eats. Like the fox, it prowls by night. 
 
 The Mole. The eyes of the Mole are very small, in 
 
35- 
 < 
 
 n 
 
 S3 
 
 S3 
 
 M 
 
 H 
 H 
 
46 
 
 WOOD S XATUEAL HISTORY 
 
 order to prevent them from being injured by the earth 
 through which the animal makes its way. The acute 
 ears and delicate sense of smell supply the place of 
 eyes. Its fur is very fine, soft, capable of turning in 
 any direction, and will not retain a particle of mould. 
 The two fore-paws are composed of five fingers, armed 
 
 the mole. — a and 6, Upper and Lower Surface of Right Fore-Foot 
 
 of Mole. 
 
 with sharp, strong nails, in order to scrape up the 
 earth ; and the hands are turned outward, so as to 
 throw the earth out of its way. 
 
 It is a good swimmer, and can pass from bank to 
 bank, or from the shore to an island, and when the 
 fields are inundated by floods it can save itself by 
 swimming. 
 

 wood's natural history 
 
 47 
 
 The construction of the Mole's habitation is very 
 singular and interesting. Each Mole has its own hab- 
 itation and hunting ground, and will not permit 
 strangers to trespass upon its preserves, which it 
 guards, not by " man-traps " and " spring-guns, 9 ' but 
 by its claws and teeth. 
 
 
 £ri§te 
 
 THE SPIDER MUSK-SHREW AND COMMON SHREW 
 
 The animal works desperately for several hours, and 
 then rests for as many hours. The mode of burrowing 
 is by rooting up the earth with its snout, and then 
 scooping it away with its fore-feet. 
 
 The depth at which this animal works depends al- 
 most entirely on the time of year. In the summer, the 
 worms come to the surface, and the Mole accordingly 
 follows them, making quite superficial runs, and some- 
 times only scooping trenches on the surface. But in 
 
48 
 
 WOOD'S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 *s 
 
 the winter, when the worms sink deep into the ground, 
 Sue Mole is forced to follow them there, to work at the 
 hard soil, as it did in the earth nearer the surface. 
 
 sill 
 
 
 THE HEDGEHOG 
 
 Moles vary in color, the usual tint being a very deep 
 brown, almost black ; but they have been seen of an 
 orange color, and a white variety is not uncommon. 
 There are several Moles known : the Shrew Mole, the 
 Changeable Mole, the Cape Mole, and the Star-nosed 
 Mole are the most conspicuous. 
 
 The Shrew Mouse is very like the common mouse, 
 
n 
 
 Hi 
 
 o 
 
50 wood's natural history 
 
 but is distinguished from it by the length of the nose, 
 which is used for grubbing up the earth in search of 
 earth-worms and insects. A peculiar scent is diffused 
 from these animals, which is possibly the reason why 
 the cat will not eat them, although she will readily 
 destroy them. 
 
 The Shrew has no connection with the true mice. It 
 belongs to a different class of animals, its teeth being 
 sharp and pointed, whereas those of the mouse are 
 broad and chisel-shaped. 
 
 There are, besides the common species, the Oared and 
 the Water Shrew. The formation of their hair as seen 
 under a powerful microscope is very beautiful, but quite 
 distinct from the hair of the mouse or rat. In the 
 autumn, numbers of these little, animals may be seen lying 
 dead, but what causes this destruction is not known. 
 
 The Hedgehog is one of the remarkable animals that 
 are guarded with spikes. These spikes are fixed into 
 the skin in a very beautiful and simple manner. When 
 the Hedgehog is annoyed it rolls itself up, and the 
 tightness of the skin causes all its spines to stand firm 
 and erect. While rolled up, even the dog and the fox 
 are baffled by it ; but by rolling it along they push it 
 into a puddle or pool, when the Hedgehog immediately 
 unrolls itself to see what is the matter, and before it 
 can close itself again is seized by its crafty enemy. 
 
 The food of the Hedgehog consists of insects, snails, 
 frogs, mice, and snakes. Dr. Buckland placed a snake 
 in the same box with a Hedgehog. The Hedgehog 
 gave the snake a severe bite, and then rolled itself up. 
 
wood's natural history 51 
 
 this process being repeated until the spine of the snake 
 was broken in several places ; it then began at the tail, 
 and ate the snake gradually, as one would eat a radish. 
 
 The flesh of the Hedgehog is said to be good eating, 
 and the gypsies frequently make it a part of their diet, 
 as do the people in some parts of Europe. 
 
 During the winter it lives in a torpid state, in a hole 
 well lined with grass and moss, and when discovered 
 looks like a round mass of leaves as it has rolled itself 
 among the fallen foliage, which adheres to its spikes. 
 
 In the Kangaroos the hind-legs are very long and 
 immensely powerful ; the fore-legs are very small, and 
 used more as hands than for walking ; the tail also is 
 very thick and strong, and assists the animal in its leaps. 
 
 The Great Kangaroo inhabits Australia, where the 
 natives live much on its flesh. Its method of progres- 
 sion is by immense leaps from its long hind-legSo The 
 natural walking position of this animal is on all four 
 legs, although it constantly sits up on the hinder legs, 
 or even stands on a tripod composed of its hind feet and 
 tail, in order to look out over the tops of the luxuriant 
 grass among which it lives. The leaping movements 
 are required for haste or escape, the length of each leap 
 being about fifteen feet. 
 
 Hunting this animal is a favorite sport. The natives 
 either knock it down with the boomerang, spear it 
 from behind a bush, or unite together and hem in a 
 herd, which soon fall victims. The colonists either 
 shoot it or hunt it with dogs. The " old man," or 
 " boomer," as the colonists call the Great Kangaroo, 
 
52 wood's natural history 
 
 invariably leads the dogs a severe chase, always at- 
 tempting to reach water and escape by swimming. It is 
 a formidable foe to the dogs when it stands at bay, as it 
 seizes the dog with its fore-legs, and either holds him 
 under water until he is drowned, or tears him open 
 with a well-directed kick of its powerful hind-feet, 
 which are armed with a very sharp claw. 
 
 The female Kangaroo carries its young about in a 
 kind of pouch, from which they emerge when they wish 
 for a little exercise, and leap back again on the slightest 
 alarm. All the kangaroos and the opossums have this 
 pouch. 
 
 The length of the Great Kangaroo is about five feet 
 without the tail, the length of which is about three feet. 
 
 There are many species of Kangaroo, the most 
 extraordinary being the Tree Kangaroo, which can hop 
 about on trees, and has curved claws on its fore-paws, 
 like those of the sloth, to enable it to hold on the 
 branches. 
 
 The Opossum inhabits North America, and is hunted 
 for the sake of its flesh. When it perceives the hunter, 
 it lies still between the branches ; but if disturbed from 
 its hiding place, it attempts to escape by dropping 
 among the herbage and creeping silently away. 
 
 Its food consists of insects, birds, eggs, etc., and it is 
 very destructive among the hen-roosts. The Opossum 
 uses its tail for climbing and swinging from branch to 
 branch, and makes it also a support for its young, who 
 sit on its back and twist their tails round their mother's 
 in order to prevent themselves from falling off. 
 
CO 
 
 o 
 
 O 
 M 
 <l 
 
 M 
 
CA 
 
 WOODS NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 When overtaken by its pursuers, it can simulate 
 death so admirably that it frequently deceives the 
 foe. The length of the Opossum is about twenty - 
 two inches, and its height about that of an ordinary 
 cat. When disturbed or alarmed it gives out a very 
 unpleasant odor. 
 
 
 
 COMMON OPOSSUM 
 
 
 The Seals and Whales, although they are not fish, 
 are inhabitants of the water. The fore-feet of the 
 Seal are used as fins, and the two hinder feet almost 
 as the tail of a fish, to direct its course. On land the 
 movements of this animal are very clumsy ; it shuffles 
 along by means of its fore-feet, and drags its hind-feet 
 after it. 
 
 Seals live during warm weather mostly in the 
 
WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 55 
 
 cold regions of the north and south poles, and go into 
 milder waters in the winter. They like to bask in the 
 sun upon rocks, sand-banks, or ice-floes. They can see 
 far, and their sense of smell is very sharp. They live 
 mostly on mollusks, crabs, and fish. In the winter they 
 make holes in the ice where they can come up to breathe. 
 
 THE GREENLAND SEAL 
 
 Seals are among the most useful of animals to man. 
 The Greenlanders use their flesh for food ; their oil 
 for light, warmth, and cooking ; their skins for clothes, 
 boots, and coverings of boats and tents ; their sinews 
 for thread and fishing-lines ; the skins of the entrails 
 for window-curtains and shirts ; and their blood for 
 making soup. Seal-skins are an important article of 
 
56 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 commerce and the seal-fishery is largely carried on 
 along the coast of Newfoundland and Labrador and 
 also on the islands off the coast of Alaska. The 
 fur in its natural state is yellowish, spotted, and 
 marked with brown, and is unfit for use until it is 
 dyed. 
 
 THE C03IMON SEAL 
 
 The length of the common Seal is about four or five 
 feet, and its weight often two hundred and twenty-four 
 pounds. 
 
 There are many Seals known, among which are the 
 Sea Leopard, a spotted species ; the Harp Seal, so 
 called because the markings on its back resemble a 
 harp ; the Sea Bear, and the Sea Lion. 
 
 The Walrus inhabits the northern seas. Its most 
 remarkable point is the great length of its upper ca- 
 nine teeth, which extend downward for nearly two feet, 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 57 
 
 and resemble the tusks of the elephant. They furnish 
 very fine ivory, and are extensively used by dentists 
 in making artificial teeth. These tusks are used by 
 the Walrus for climbing the rocks or heaps of ice, 
 and also for digging up the sea- weeds on which the 
 
 HEAD OF WALRUS 
 
 animal mostly subsists. It will also 
 eat shrimps and young seals. 
 
 The Walrus is hunted for the sake 
 of its oil, its flesh, its skin, and its teeth. Its length is 
 about sixteen feet, and it yields from twenty to thirty 
 gallons of excellent oil. 
 
 The Cetacea, or Whale tribe, closely resemble the 
 fishes, but are distinguished by possessing warm blood, 
 and, in consequence, are forced to rise at intervals in 
 order to breathe the air. 
 
K; 
 
 
 58 wood's natural history 
 
 The Whale remains under water for a time much 
 longer than could be borne by any other warm-blooded 
 animal, and is furnished with means for supporting 
 life during its stay beneath the water. 
 
 Along the interior of the ribs there is a vast collec- 
 tion of blood-vessels, capable of containing a large quan- 
 tity of blood, having no immediate connection with that 
 portion of the blood which is already circulating in the 
 body. As fast as the exhausted and poisonous blood 
 returns from its work, it passes into another reservoir 
 adapted for its necessities, while a portion of the 
 arterialized blood in the arterial reservoir passes into 
 the circulation. By means of this wonderful appara- 
 tus, a Whale can remain below the water for more than 
 half an hour at a time. 
 
 The depths to which the Whale can descend are 
 astonishing, wounded Whales having been known to 
 take down perpendicularly nearly eight hundred fath- 
 oms of line. 
 
 The great Greenland Whale is found in the northern 
 oceans. Many ships are annually fitted out for its cap- 
 ture. The oil is obtained from the thick layer of fatty 
 substance, called blubber, which lies immediately under 
 the skin ; and the whalebone is obtained from the 
 interior of the mouth, where it fringes the jaws, and 
 acts as a sieve for the Whale to strain its food through. 
 The throat of the Greenland Whale is so small that 
 the sailors say that a penny loaf would choke a Whale. 
 The Whale, when it wishes to feed, rushes through the 
 water with its immense jaws wide open, enclosing a 
 
wood's natural history 59 
 
 host of little sea animals and a few hogsheads of water. 
 As the Whale wants only the animals, and not the 
 water, it shuts its mouth, and drives all the water out 
 through the fringes of whalebone, leaving the little 
 creatures in its jaws. 
 
 The Whale shows great attachment to its young, which 
 is called the cub, and on the approach of danger seizes it 
 with its flipper and carries it down out of danger. Its 
 flippers are in fact fore-legs, furnished with a kind of hand 
 covered with a thick skin. The hind-legs are wanting. 
 The length of this Whale averages sixty feet. Its tail 
 is placed transversely, and not vertically, as in the fishes. 
 
 The Cachalot, or Spermaceti Whale. This animal 
 is not furnished with "baleen," or whalebone, but is 
 armed with a number of strong conical teeth, which 
 are placed in the lower jaw, and which are often used 
 in defending itself from the attacks of the whalers' 
 boats. Besides this method of defence, it has a habit 
 of swimming off to a distance, and then rushing at the 
 boat with its head, thereby knocking it to pieces. 
 One of these whales actually sank a ship by three or 
 four blows from its head. 
 
 Spermaceti is obtained from the head of the Cachalot. 
 When the whale is killed a hole is made in the upper 
 part of the head, and the spermaceti is bailed out with 
 buckets. When just procured it is almost fluid, but is 
 rendered solid and transparent by being first drained 
 of its oil, then boiled in water, and lastly set to cool 
 in wide pans, where it soon assumes a white, flaky 
 appearance. The skull of the Cachalot occupies only 
 
GO wood's natural history 
 
 a small portion of the head, the mass at the end of the 
 mouth being composed of a gristly kind of substance. 
 The bone of the upper jaw runs backward nearly- 
 straight until just before the eyes, when it joins the 
 remainder of the skull with a bold sweep. That part 
 of the skull is called " Neptune's Chair," and is the 
 part where the spermaceti is found. The layer of 
 blubber is thin, but yields a fine and valuable oil. 
 Ambergris, so long a riddle to all inquirers, is now 
 found to be produced in the interior of the Cachalot. 
 This substance is of the consistency of wax, inflam- 
 mable, and gives out a kind of musky odor. The 
 length of this whale is about seventy feet. 
 
 Those readers who have formed their ideas of Dol- 
 phins from the very graceful and elegant creatures 
 represented under that name in the pictures of the 
 " old masters," or the statues of the ancient sculptors, 
 will find that the real animal differs much from the 
 ideal. The Dolphin is, like the whale, a warm-blooded 
 animal, suckles its young, and is forced to come to the 
 surface in order to breathe. Its snout is very long, 
 and is apparently used for capturing such fish, and 
 other animals, as live in the mud. The length is from 
 six to ten feet. Several species are known. 
 
 The Porpoise. These animals may be observed in 
 plenty playing their absurd antics off every coast of 
 America. They frequent greatly the mouths of rivers, 
 because they find more food there than in the open sea. 
 They tumble at the surface of the water for the purpos 
 of breathing. 
 
 
p 
 
 Hi 
 
62 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 Iii old times the Porpoise constituted one of the 
 standard delicacies of a public feast, but it has long 
 since been deposed from its rank at the table, as its 
 flesh has a very strong oily flavor. 
 
 NARWHALS 
 
 It feeds on various fishes, but its great feasts are 
 held when the shoals of herrings, pilchards, and other 
 fish arrive on the coasts. The teeth are very numer- 
 ous, and interlock when the jaws are closed, so that 
 the fish when once seized cannot escape. Its length is 
 
wood's natural history 63 
 
 about five feet, its color a rich black, becoming white 
 on the under side. 
 
 The Narwhal has one visible tusk, which used to be 
 sold at a very high price as the real horn of the unicorn. 
 Of course, when the whale fishery was established, the 
 real owner of the horn was discovered. 
 
 The Narwhal possesses two tusks, one on each side of 
 its head. Only the left tusk projects, the other remain- 
 ing within the head. Sometimes a specimen has been 
 found with both tusks projecting, and some think that 
 when the left tusk has been broken off by accident, the 
 right one becomes large enough to supply its place. 
 
 Its body is from thirty to forty feet in length, and 
 its tusk from five to nine. 
 
 The Roclentia, or gnawing animals, are so called 
 from their habit of gnawing the substances on which 
 they feed. For this purpose their teeth are admirably 
 formed. In the front of each jaw there are two long 
 flat teeth, slightly curved, and having a kind of chisel 
 edge for rasping away wood or other articles. 
 
 The constant labor which these teeth undergo would 
 rapidly wear them away. To counteract this loss, the 
 teeth are constantly growing and being pushed forward, 
 so that as fast as the upper part is worn away, the 
 tooth is replenished from below. 
 
 The Brown Rat, sometimes called the Norway Rat, 
 is the species usually found in England and America. 
 It is at all times difficult to get rid of these dirty, 
 noisy animals, for they soon learn to keep out of the 
 way of traps ; and if they are poisoned they revenge 
 
64 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 their fate by dying behind a wainscot or under a plank 
 of the floor, and make the room uninhabitable. 
 
 The Common Mouse is so well known that a de- 
 scription of its form and size is useless. It almost 
 rivals the rat in its attacks upon our provisions, and is 
 quite as difficult to extirpate. It brings up its young 
 in a kind of nest, and when a board of long standing 
 is taken up in a room it is not uncommon to find under 
 it a Mouse's nest, composed of rags, string, paper, shav- 
 ings, and everything that the ingenious little architect 
 can scrape together. It is a round mass, looking some- 
 thing like a rag ball very loosely made. When opened, 
 seven or eight little Mice will probably be found in the 
 interior — little pink transparent creatures, three of 
 which could go into a lady's thimble, sprawling about 
 in an unmeaning manner, apparently greatly distressed 
 at the sudden cold caused by the opening of their 
 nest. 
 
 A white variety of Mouse is tolerably common, and 
 is usually bred in cages. As it is very tame and 
 beautiful, it is in some repute as a pet. 
 
 The Harvest Mouse is very much smaller than the 
 ordinary mouse. Its nest is raised about a foot and 
 a half from the ground, and supported on two or three 
 straws. The nest is made of grass, about the size of 
 a baseball. 
 
 The Water Rat is very common on banks of rivers, 
 brooks, etc. It does not eat fish ; but gnaws the green 
 bark from reeds, which it completely strips, leaving the 
 mark oi each tooth as it proceeds. 
 

 BEAVERS AT WORK. 
 
fc: 
 
 66 wood's natural history 
 
 The Beaver. North America is the principal country 
 where the Beaver is found, but it is also to be found on 
 the Euphrates, and along some of the larger European 
 rivers, as the Rhone and the Danube. 
 
 The houses of the Beaver are built of mud, stones, 
 and sticks. They are placed in a stream, and their 
 entrance is always below the surface. As a severe 
 frost would freeze up their doors, it is necessary to 
 make the stream deep enough to prevent the frost 
 from reaching the entrances. This object is attained 
 by building a dam across the river, to keep back the 
 water until it is sufficiently deep for the Beaver's pur- 
 poses. The dam is made of branches which the Beaver 
 cuts down with its strong, sharp teeth, and mud and stones 
 worked in among the branches. The Beavers throw 
 these branches into the water, and sink them to the 
 bottom by means of stones, and by continually throwing 
 in fresh supplies a strong embankment is soon made. 
 
 The mud and stones used in their embankments 
 are not carried on their tails, as some say, nor do the 
 Beavers use their tails as trowels for laying on the 
 mud, the fact being that the stones and mud are car- 
 ried between their chin and fore-paws, and the mis- 
 take respecting the tail is evidently caused by the slap 
 that Beavers give with that member when they dive. 
 
 Every year the Beavers lay a fresh coating of mud 
 upon their houses, so that after the lapse of a few years 
 the walls of the house are several feet in thickness. 
 Many of the houses are built close together, but no two 
 families can communicate with each other, except by 
 
Jaguae. 
 
wood's natural htstort 67 
 
 diving below the walls and rising inside their neigh- 
 bors' houses. 
 
 When in captivity the Beaver soon becomes tame, and 
 will industriously build dams across the corner of a room 
 with brushes, boots, fire-irons, books, or anything it can 
 find. When its edifice is finished, it sits in the centre 
 apparently satisfied that it has made a beautiful struc- 
 ture to dam up the river — a proof that the ingenuity 
 of the Beaver is not caused by reason, but by instinct. 
 
 The fur of the Beaver, like that of many other 
 animals, consists of a fine wool intermixed with long 
 and stiff hairs. Its length is about three and a half feet. 
 
 The Common Porcupine is found in America, Africa, 
 Tartary, Persia, India, and some parts of Europe. It 
 lives in holes, which it digs in the- ground, and only 
 comes forth at night in order to feed. It eats vege- 
 table substances only, such as roots, bark, and other 
 similar substances. The array of spines or quills with 
 which this animal is covered forms its principal means 
 of defence. Occasionally a loose quill falls on the 
 ground, which gave rise to the error that the Porcu- 
 pine could dart its weapons at its adversary from a 
 distance. There are two kinds of these quills — one 
 kind long and curved, the other short, thick, and 
 pointed. These last are the weapons of defence, as 
 the former are too .slender to do much service. 
 
 The American Indians use the quills extracted from 
 the Canada Porcupine, a species living on trees, for 
 ornamenting various parts of their dress, especially 
 their moccasins or skin shoes. The length of the 
 
68 wood's xatueal history 
 
 Porcupine is about two feet, and its quills are from 
 six to fourteen inches long. 
 
 The Capybara, or Chiguira, looks very like a pig, 
 and its skin is covered thinly with hairs like bristles. 
 It inhabits the borders of lakes and rivers in many 
 parts of South America. During the day it hides 
 among the thick herbage of the banks, only wander- 
 ing forth to feed at night, but when alarmed, it in- 
 stantly makes for the water, and escapes by diving. It 
 is hunted for the sake of its flesh, which is said to 
 be remarkably good. The food of the Capybara con- 
 sists of grass, vegetables, and fruits. Its length is 
 about three feet six inches. 
 
 The Guinea-pig, or Restless Cavy, was originally 
 brought from South America, and is frequently domes- 
 ticated. Its beauty is its only recommendation, as it 
 shows little intelligence and is never used for food. 
 Children are fond of keeping them, as they are easy 
 to manage, and do not make much noise. They are 
 popularly supposed to keep off rats. 
 
 The Hare when full-grown is larger than the rabbit, and 
 exceedingly like that animal. But its color is slightly 
 different. The Hare makes a kind of nest of grass and 
 other materials. In this nest, called a "form," the Hare 
 lies, crouching to the ground, its ears laid along its back ; 
 and trusting to its concealment, will often remain quiet 
 until the foot of an intruder almost touches it. 
 
 In cold countries the Hare changes its fur during 
 winter, and becomes white, like the Arctic fox and 
 the ermine. 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 69 
 
 The Rabbit is smaller than the hare, but resembles it in 
 form. It lives in deep holes, which it digs in the ground. 
 
 The female Rabbit forms a soft nest at the bottom 
 of her burrow, composed of fur torn from her body, 
 of hay and dried leaves. Here the young rabbits are 
 kept until they are strong enough to shift for them- 
 selves, and make their own burrows. 
 
 
 THE JEKIiOA 
 
 The tame Rabbit is only a variety, rendered larger by 
 careful feeding and attendance. 
 
 The Jerboas are celebrated for their powers of leap- 
 ing. Their long hind legs enable them to take enor- 
 mous springs, during which their tails serve to balance 
 them. Indeed, a Jerboa when deprived of his tail is 
 afraid to leap. 
 
70 wood's natural history 
 
 
 The foot of the Jerboa is defended by long bristly 
 hairs, which not only give the creature a firm hold 
 of the ground for its spring, but also defend the foot 
 from the burning soil on which it lives. 
 
 Grain and bulbous roots are its chief food ; while 
 eating, it holds the food with its fore-paws, and sits 
 upright on its haunches, like the squirrels and marmots. 
 
 The Dormouse is very common in all the warmer 
 parts of Europe. It lives in brushwood, through 
 which it makes its way with such rapidity that it is 
 very difficult to be captured. During the winter it 
 lies torpid, but takes care to have a stock of food laid 
 up, on which it feeds during the few interruptions to 
 its slumbers. A warm day in winter will usually 
 rouse it, but during the cold weather it lies rolled 
 up. It lives principally on nuts, acorns, and grain. 
 It brings up its young in a nest of leaves and hay. 
 
 The Squirrel is a very common animal in woods, 
 where numbers may be seen frisking about on the 
 branches, or running up and down the trunks. If 
 alarmed it springs up the tree with extraordinary 
 activity, and hides behind a branch. By this trick 
 it escapes its enemy the hawk, and by constantly slip- 
 ping behind the large branches frequently tires him 
 out. The activity and daring of this little animal 
 are extraordinary. When pursued, it makes the most 
 astonishing leaps from branch to branch, or from tree 
 to tree, and has apparently some method of altering 
 its direction while in the air, possibly by means of its 
 tail acting as a rudder. 
 

 wood's natural history 71 
 
 It is easily domesticated, and is very amusing in its 
 habits when suffered to go at large in a room or kept 
 in a spacious cage ; but when confined in a little 
 cramped box, especially in one of the cruel wheel 
 cages, its energies and playfulness are quite lost. 
 
 The color is a deep reddish-brown or gray, and its 
 tail so large and bushy as to shade its whole body 
 when carried curled over its back. 
 
 The Ox. The Ruminants, or animals that chew the 
 cud, include the oxen, sheep, and goats, deer, giraffe, 
 and camels. They have a peculiar construction of 
 stomach, which receives the freshly gathered food, 
 retains it for some hours, and then passes it back into 
 the mouth to be remasticated. 
 
 The Ox is spread widely over the earth, scarcely any 
 country being without its peculiar breed. In this coun- 
 try, where it is our most useful domesticated animal, 
 there are many breeds. Each of these breeds has its 
 peculiar value : some fatten easily, and are kept espe- 
 cially for the butcher ; others give milk, and are valu- 
 able for the dairy. The best dairy cow is the Alderney, 
 a small, short-horned animal, furnishing exceedingly 
 rich milk. 
 
 Oxen are often used to draw wagons, or to drag the 
 plough. They are not so strong as horses, and their 
 movements are much slower. 
 
 Every part of the Ox is of value. We eat his flesh, 
 we wear shoes soled with his skin, our candles are 
 made from his fat, our tables are joined with glue 
 made from his hoofs, his hair is mixed with the mortar 
 
72 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 
 of our walls, his horns are made into combs, knife - 
 handles, drinking cups, etc. ; his bones are used as a 
 
 THE AMERICAN BISON 
 
 cheap substitute for ivory, and soup is made from his 
 
 tail. 
 
 The young Ox is called a calf, and is quite as useful 
 in its way as the full-grown Ox. The flesh is termed 
 
WOOD'S NATURAL HISTORY 73 
 
 veal, and by many preferred to the flesh of the Ox or 
 Cow, which is called beef ; jelly is made from its feet.: 
 The stomach is salted and dried, and is named rennet. 
 Cheese is made by soaking a piece of rennet in water, 
 and pouring it into a vessel of milk. The milk soon 
 forms a curd, which is placed in a press, and the watery 
 substance, called whey, squeezed from it. The curd is 
 colored and salted, and is then cheese. 
 
 The Cape Buffalo is a native of South Africa. It is 
 ferocious and cunning, often lurking among the trees 
 until an unsuspecting traveller approaches, and then 
 rushing on him and destroying him. The ferocious 
 creature is not content with killing its victim, but 
 stands over him mangling him with its horns, and 
 stamping on him with its feet. 
 
 The Bison, or Buffalo, used to roam the plains o£ 
 prairies of North America in countless multitudes. 
 But since the opening up of the West by railroads it 
 has been almost exterminated, only a small herd being 
 preserved in the Yellowstone Park by the United States 
 Government, and a few specimens in zoological gardens. 
 A small herd or two remain in Canada. 
 
 The Buffalo is a giant among American animals. 
 Its bulk, shaggy mane, vicious eye, and sullen behavior 
 give it a ferocious appearance, but it is really a mild, 
 inoffensive beast, sluggish and stupid. It is about 
 eight to nine feet from head to tail, and seven feet 
 from the ground to the shoulder. The flesh is good 
 eating, especially the hump. The cow is smaller than 
 the bull, and can run faster. 
 
74 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 The Yak inhabits Tartary. The tail is very long 
 and fine, and is used in India as a whisk to keep 
 off the mosquitoes. From the shoulders a mass 
 
 |aSHBS2x£ 
 
 .rv.:- -r~ 
 
 THE GXOO 
 
 of long hair falls almost to the ground, something 
 like the mane of a lion. The Tartars weave it into 
 cloth. 
 
 The Gnoo, or Wildebeest, inhabits Southern Africa. 
 The horns, sweeping downward over the face, turn 
 boldly upward with a sharp curve. The neck is fur- 
 
wood's natural history 75 
 
 nished with a mane like that of the horse, and the legs 
 are formed like those of the stag. In size it is about 
 four feet in height. 
 
 The Koodoo is a native of South Africa. It is 
 remarkable for its beautifully shaped horns, which are 
 about four feet in length and twisted into a large spiral 
 of about two turns and a half. 
 
 The Gazelle, so famous in poetry, inhabits Arabia 
 and Syria. Its eyes are very large, dark, and lus- 
 trous. The color of this pretty little animal is a 
 dark yellowish-brown fading into white on the under 
 parts. 
 
 The Chamois is found only in mountainous regions. 
 It lives on the loftiest ridges, displaying wonderful 
 activity in leaping with certainty and security on 
 places where there is hardly room for its feet. 
 
 The Ibex in the Alpine regions of Europe has mag- 
 nificent horns, which sweep from the head almost to 
 the haunches. The horns are immensely strong, serv- 
 ing to break the fall of the Ibex when it makes a leap 
 from a height. Its height is two feet six inches ; the 
 length of its horns often three feet. 
 
 The common Goat is not in much request in Amer- 
 ica, but in some other countries large herds are kept 
 for the sake of their milk. The most celebrated 
 variety of this animal is the Cashmere Goat, which 
 furnishes the fine wool from which Cashmere shawls 
 are made. 
 
 The Sheep. There are many kinds of Sheep, 
 among which the common Sheep, the long-tailed 
 
76 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 Sheep, and the Wallachian Sheep are the mogt con- 
 spicuous. California produces better wool than any 
 other country 
 
 K 
 
 THE CHAMOIS 
 
 The long-tailed Sheep inhabits Syria and Egypt, 
 Its tail is so large and so loaded with fat that to pre- 
 vent it from being injured by dragging on the ground 
 
Alpine Ibex. 
 
 
78 
 
 WOODS NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 a board is fastened to the under side of it, and wheels 
 are often attached to the board. 
 
 The hair of the Wallachian Sheep is long and silky 
 like that of a spaniel, and of great length, falling almost 
 to the ground. 
 
 THE BIGHOKN SHEEP 
 
 The Bighorn has the body of a deer and the head of 
 a sheep. Its horns are of an enormous size, and make 
 a large semicircular curve backward. The head and 
 horns often weigh sixty pounds. Its hair is short and 
 gray, but in the fall changes to dun and becomes longer, 
 
wood's natural history 79 
 
 while in winter a layer of fine wool, which never shows 
 outside the hair, grows close to the skin. It is found 
 in troops of twenty or thirty in rocky districts, which 
 it leaves only to get water. It is very shy and takes 
 flight at the first appearance of a man. Its flesh is in 
 good condition from August till November. General 
 Dodge says if one can imagine a saddle of Southdown 
 mutton flavored with the gamey juices of the black-tail 
 deer, he will form some idea of a feast of mountain 
 sheep in season. 
 
 The Giraffe. This beautiful animal is found only in 
 South Africa. Its height varies from thirteen to eigh- 
 teen feet. Its beautiful long neck enables it to browse 
 on the leaves of the trees on which it feeds. It is very 
 dainty while feeding, and plucks the leaves one by one 
 with its flexible tongue. The skin is an inch and a 
 half in thickness. 
 
 The Giraffe has much difficulty in reaching the 
 ground with its mouth. It straddles widely with its 
 fore-legs, and with some trouble succeeds in reaching 
 the object aimed at. 
 
 The movements of the Giraffe are very peculiar, the 
 limbs of each side appearing to act together. It is 
 very swift, and can outrun a horse, especially if it can 
 get among broken ground and rocks, over which it leaps 
 with a succession of frog-like hops. 
 
 The Camel. The Bactrian Camel has two humps on 
 its back, the Arabian Camel only one. 
 
 The Camel forms the principal wealth of the Arab, 
 and its power of drinking at one draught sufficient 
 
80 wood's natural history 
 
 water to serve it for several clays enables it to march 
 from station to station without requiring to drink by 
 the way. 
 
 THE BACTRIAN CAMEL 
 
 The foot of the Camel is admirably adapted for walk- 
 ing on the loose sand, being composed of large elastic 
 pads, which spread as the foot is placed on the ground. 
 To guard it from injury when it kneels down to be 
 loaded, the parts of the body on which its weight rests 
 are defended by thick callosities. The largest of these 
 

 
 GIRAFFES. 
 
82 wood's natural history 
 
 callosities is on the chest ; the others are placed on the 
 joints of the legs. 
 
 The Llamas, of which there are several species, 
 inhabit South America, and are used for the same 
 purpose as the camel. When wild they are very timid, 
 and fly from a pursuer the moment that they see him ; 
 but their curiosity is so great that the hunter often 
 secures them by lying on the ground and throwing his 
 legs and arms about. The Llamas come to see what 
 the extraordinary animal can be, and give the hunter 
 an opportunity of firing several shots, which the as- 
 tonished animals consider as part of the performance. 
 The Llama can go for several days without requir- 
 ing to drink. The fleece is very long and more resem- 
 bling silk than wool, and is sometimes twelve inches in 
 length. 
 
 The Red Deer or Stag is the largest of the deer. It 
 bears different names according to the size of its horns, 
 which increase year by year. All the males have horns, 
 which they shed every year, and renew again. Hunt- 
 ing the Stag is a very favorite amusement in some 
 countries, and packs of hounds, called stag-hounds, are 
 kept expressly for that purpose. 
 
 The Virginia Deer is remarkable for its peculiar 
 horns, which bend boldy backward and then suddenly 
 curve forward. Its color is reddish-brown in spring 
 and dull brown in winter. It is found everywhere 
 from Canada to Mexico and from the Atlantic to the 
 Rocky Mountains. It is a very good swimmer, and 
 loves to go into deep water to get rid of ticks and other 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 83 
 
 insects. When it is near settled districts it will leap 
 fences and browse on the crops, but at other times feeds 
 on the young grasses of the plains. In the months of 
 
 THE LLAMA 
 
 August, September, and October it is very fat and the 
 venison is very fine. It is fond of salt, and resorts in 
 great numbers to salt-licks. The skin of the Deer is 
 very valuable, and is used to form the greater part of 
 the Indian's dress. 
 

 84 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 K: 
 
 The Fallow Deer are usually seen in parks, where 
 they congregate in large herds. They are generally 
 tame, and will suffer people to come very close to 
 
 THE VIRGINIA DEER 
 
 them. They soon become familiar with those who 
 treat them with kindness, and will eat from their 
 hands. 
 
 The Reindeer is found throughout the Arctic regions 
 
Camel. 
 
80 
 
 WOOD 8 NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 of Europe, Asia, and America. A Laplander in good 
 circumstances possesses about three or four hundred 
 deer, which enable him to live in comfort. The subsist- 
 
 
 
 A FAMILY OF ELK 
 
 ence of one who possesses only one hundred is very 
 precarious, and he who has only fifty usually joins his 
 animals with the herd of some richer man, and takes 
 the menial labors upon himself. 
 
wood's natukal history 8 
 
 
 The Reindeer feeds principally on a kind of lichen, 
 which it scrapes from beneath the snow. During the 
 winter its coat thickens, and assumes a lighter hue, 
 many deer being almost white. Its hoofs are divided 
 very high, so that when the animal places its foot on 
 the ground the hoof spreads wide, and as it raises 
 the foot a snapping noise is heard, caused by the 
 parts of the hoof closing together. When harnessed 
 to a sledge it can draw two hundred and fifty to 
 three hundred pounds' weight at about ten miles an 
 hour. 
 
 The European Moose inhabits the northern parts of 
 Europe. It was considered at one time to be identical 
 with the American elk, but naturalists now believe it to 
 be a distinct animal. Its usual pace is a high, awkward 
 trot, but when frightened it sometimes gallops. It is 
 very strong, and can destroy a wolf with a single blow 
 of its large and powerful horns. 
 
 Like the reindeer, the Moose makes a great clattering 
 with its hoofs when in rapid motion. It is a good 
 swimmer, and is fond of taking to the water in summer- 
 time. It is rather dangerous when incensed, as it 
 fights desperately with its horns and hoofs. 
 
 We now arrive at the thick-skinned animals which 
 do not chew the cud. The first on the list is the Horse. 
 The Arabian Horse is a model of elegance and beauty. 
 The Arab treats his Horse as one of the family ; it lives 
 in the same tent with him, eats from his hand, and 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 89 
 
 sleeps among his children, who tumble about on it with- 
 out any fear. 
 
 A Horse in Norwich, Vt., was sold to a man in Ox- 
 ford, N.H. As he was being taken from the wagon 
 one evening he slipped away from his new owner and 
 
 ENGLISH RACE HORSE 
 
 disappeared at a gallop. In six hours he reached his 
 old home, having crossed the Connecticut River and 
 travelled twenty-seven miles in the darkness, over a 
 road he had not seen since he was a colt. 
 
 The English Horse, from which the best Horses in 
 the United States have come, has much Arabian and 
 Barb blood in it. The Race Horse is swifter for short 
 
90 wood's natural history 
 
 distances than the best Arabian Horse. It is much like 
 the Arabian in looks, but is taller and longer, and has 
 changed in color. 
 
 The Trotting Horse of the United 'States and Canada 
 is the fastest in the world. It is not usually as tall as 
 the Running Horse. There is also a breed of Trotting 
 Horses in Russia, called Orloff Trotter, which is faster 
 than common horses, but not so fast as the American 
 Trotter. 
 
 The Percheron Horses are much used for drawing 
 omnibuses and business wagons. They are large, heav} 7 
 Horses, with large heads. In England the breeds 
 called the Suffolk, the Cleveland Bay, and the Clydes- 
 dale are noted for their size and strength. The Flan- 
 ders Horse, of Belgium and Holland, is very large, 
 heavy, and strong. 
 
 Ponies are found in many countries. Among the 
 most noted are the Shetland Ponies. The Indians of 
 the western parts of the United States have a breed 
 of Ponies which are very hardy and strong. One of 
 them will travel all day long with a heavy man on 
 its back. 
 
 The Ass is scarcely less serviceable to man than the 
 horse. In Asia, where it is properly treated, it is an 
 elegant and spirited animal with good action and smooth 
 coat. 
 
 The Zebra is found in South Africa. This beautiful 
 animal lives in troops among the mountains, shunning 
 the presence of man. It is a very conspicuous animal, 
 and easily distinguished by the regular stripes of brown- 
 
 I 
 
' ;" " "■- 
 
 ' ' ' - nilJL 
 
y. 
 
wood's natural history 91 
 
 ish-black with which its body is covered even down to 
 the hoofs. Its voice is very peculiar and can hardly 
 be described. 
 
 The Elephant. Of this magnificent animal, whose 
 form is familiar to every eye, two species are known, 
 the Indian and the African. The anatomy of this huge 
 quadruped is well worthy of consideration. Its head 
 and tasks are so very heavy that no long neck would 
 bear them ; the neck is therefore very short. But this 
 shortness of neck prevents the Elephant from putting 
 its head to the ground, or from stooping to the water's 
 edge. This apparent defect is compensated by the won- 
 derful manner in which its upper lip and nose are 
 elongated, and rendered capable of drawing up water 
 or plucking grass. In the proboscis or trunk there are 
 about forty thousand muscles, enabling the Elephant to 
 shorten, lengthen, coil up, or move in any direction 
 this most extraordinary organ. The trunk is pierced 
 throughout its length by two canals, through which 
 liquids can be drawn by suction. If the Elephant 
 wishes to drink, after drawing the liquid into its 
 trunk, it inserts the end of its proboscis into its mouth, 
 and discharges the contents down its throat ; but if it 
 merely wishes to wash itself or play, it blows the con- 
 tained liquid from the trunk with great violence. 
 Through the trunk the curious trumpet-like voice of 
 the Elephant is produced. At the extremity is a finger- 
 like appendage, with which it can pick up small objects. 
 In order to sustain the muscles of the jaw and neck, the 
 head must be very large : were it solid, it would be very 
 
wood's NATURAL HISTORY 93 
 
 heavy. The skull is therefore formed of a number of 
 cells of bone, forming the necessary expanse without 
 the weight, leaving but a very small cavity for the 
 brain. 
 
 This fact will account for the numberless bullet 
 wounds which an Elephant will endure in the skull. 
 The ball, instead of penetrating to the brain, merely 
 lodges among the bony cells, and does no great mischief. 
 Not long since, a ball was found firmly embedded in 
 the tusk of an Elephant ; it was thoroughly impacted, 
 and there was no apparent opening by which it could 
 have reached the place that it occupied. It was after- 
 ward found that the ball had struck the Elephant at 
 the base of the tusk, so as to have sunk among the soft 
 and as yet unformed ivory. This by degrees was 
 pushed on as the tusk grew in successive years, until it 
 was at last surrounded by hard ivory. A spear-head 
 has been also found similarly embedded. 
 
 The Indian Elephant is almost invariably taken from 
 its native haunts and then trained. The Indian hunters 
 proceed into the woods with two trained female Ele- 
 phants. These advance quietly, and by their blandish- 
 ments so occupy the attention of any unfortunate male 
 that they meet that the hunters are enabled to tie his 
 legs together and fasten him to a tree. His treacherous 
 companions now leave him to struggle in impotent 
 rage, until he is so subdued by hunger and fatigue 
 that the hunters can drive him home between their 
 *wo tame Elephants. When once captured he is easily 
 trained. 
 
94 wood's natural history 
 
 In captivity, it is very docile and gentle, but some- 
 times, when provoked, will take a very ample revenge. 
 Of this propensity many anecdotes are told. 
 
 The tusks and teeth of the Elephant furnish exceed- 
 ingly fine ivory, which is used for various purposes, 
 such as knife-handles, combs, billiard balls, etc. There 
 is a great art in making a billiard ball. Some parts of 
 the tusk are always heavier than others, so that if the 
 heavy part should fall on one side of the ball, it 
 would not run true. The object of the maker is either 
 to get the heavier portion in the centre, or to make the 
 ball from a piece of ivory of equal weight. In either 
 case, the ball is made a little larger than the proper 
 size ; it is then hung up in a dry room for several 
 months, and finally turned down to the requisite di 
 mensions. 
 
 All elephants are fond of the water, and sometimes 
 submerge themselves so far that nothing but the tip of 
 the proboscis remains above the surface. In a tame 
 state, the Elephant delights in concealing itself below 
 the water and deluging the spectators with a stream 
 sent from its trunk. 
 
 The African Elephant is distinguished from the 
 Indian Elephant by the markings of its teeth and some 
 difference in form, noticeably having larger ears. 
 
 The Tapir forms one of the links connecting the 
 elephant with the hog. The snout is lengthened into 
 a kind of proboscis like that of the elephant, but it is 
 comparatively short, and has no finger-like appendage 
 at the extremity. 
 
 
WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 95 
 
 The Common Tapir is spread throughout the warmer 
 regions of South America. It sleeps during the day, 
 and Avanders about at night in search of its food, which 
 consists of watermelons, gourds, and other vegetables. 
 
 
 56 
 
 
 mxM^m 
 
 
 THE AMERICAN TAPIK 
 
 It is very fond of the water, and can remain below the 
 surface for a considerable period. It is a very power- 
 ful animal, and as it is furnished with a very thick hide, 
 it plunges through the brushwood, breaking its way 
 through any obstacles that may oppose its progress. 
 
Vi 
 
 Reindeer. 
 
WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 97 
 
 Its disposition is gentle, but when annoyed it some- 
 times rushes at its antagonist, and defends itself vigor- 
 ously with its powerful teeth. The jaguar frequently 
 springs on it, but is often dislodged by the activity of 
 the Tapir, which rushes through the bushes immediately 
 
 THE BABYROUSSA 
 
 that it feels the claws of its enemy, and endeavors 
 to brush him off against the thick branches. The 
 height of the American Tapir is from five to six feet. 
 The Malay Tapir is somewhat larger, and is known by 
 the grayish- white color of the loins and hind- quarters, 
 which give the animal the appearance as if a white 
 horse-cloth had been spread over it. 
 
 The Boar. The animals composing the Hog tribe 
 
fc 
 
 98 wood's natural history 
 
 are found in almost every part of the globe. Their 
 feet are cloven and externally resemble those of the 
 Ruminants, but an examination of the bones at once 
 points out the difference. 
 
 The Wild Hog or Boar inhabits many parts of Europe, 
 especially the forests of Germany, where the chase of 
 the Wild Boar is a common amusement. Its tusks are 
 terrible weapons, and capable of being used with fatal 
 effect. They curve outward from the lower jaw, and 
 are sometimes eight or ten inches in length. In India, 
 where the Boar attains to a great size, the horses on 
 which the hunters are mounted often refuse to bring 
 their riders within spear stroke of the infuriated animal, 
 who has been known to kill a horse and severely injure 
 the rider with one sweep of its enormous tusks. 
 
 The Domestic Hog scarcely needs any description. 
 It is by no means the unclean and filthy animal that 
 moralists love to represent it. It certainly is fond of 
 wallowing in the mire, as are the elephants, tapirs, etc., 
 but no animal seems to enjoy clean straw more than the 
 Hog. We shut it up in a dirty narrow crib, give it any 
 kind of refuse to eat, and then abuse it for being a 
 dirty animal and an unclean feeder. 
 
 The Babyroussa inhabits the Molucca Islands and 
 Java. It is remarkable for possessing four tusks, two 
 of which proceed from the upper jaw, and do not pass 
 out between the lips, but through an aperture in the 
 skin, half-way between the end of the snout and eyes. 
 The sockets of the two upper tusks are curved upward, 
 and give a singular appearance to the skull of the ani- 
 
wood's natural history 99 
 
 mal. It looks a ferocious animal, nor do its looks con- 
 tradict its habits, as it is very savage, and cannot be 
 hunted without danger. Yet when taken young it can 
 be tamed without much difficulty, and conducts itself 
 much after the manner of a well-behaved pig. 
 
 Only the male possesses the remarkable double pair of 
 tusks, the female being destitute of the upper pair, and 
 only possessing those belonging to the under jaw in 
 a rudimentary degree. It lives in troops, as do most 
 of the hog kind, and thus does great damage to the 
 cultivated grounds, especially to the maize, a plant 
 to which it is, unfortunately, very partial. It is a good 
 swimmer, and often voluntarily takes to the water in 
 order to cross to another island. Its size when full 
 grown is about that of a very large hog. 
 
 The Rhinoceros. There are, apparently, six species 
 of this formidable animal inhabiting various parts of 
 Asia and Africa. They can be distinguished from each 
 other by the number and shape of their horns and the 
 color of their bodies. Their habits are much alike. 
 
 The Rhinoceros is always a surly and ill-tempered 
 animal, and is much given to making unprovoked 
 attacks on man and beast, if it should happen to 
 fancy itself insulted by their presence. Its chief 
 peculiarity, its so-called horn, is a mass of fibres 
 matted together, and closely resembling the structure 
 of whalebone. Its feet are divided into three toes, 
 encased in hoofs. The horn is not connected with the 
 skull, but is merely a growth from the skin, from which 
 it can be separated by means of a sharp penknife. 
 
P3 
 
WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 101 
 
 The organs of scent of the Rhinoceros are very acute, 
 and as the creature seems to have a peculiar faculty for 
 detecting the presence of human beings, it is necessary 
 
 HEAD OF KHIXOCKKOS 
 
 for the hunters to use great circumspection when they 
 approach it, whether to avoid or to kill, as in the one 
 case it may probably be taken with a sudden fit of fury 
 and charge at them, or, in the other case, it may take 
 the alarm and escape. 
 
 The upper lip is used by the Rhinoceros as an 
 
102 wood's natural history 
 
 instrument of prehension, with which it can grasp 
 herbage on which it feeds, or pick up small fruit from 
 the ground. 
 
 The Hippopotamus. There is, in all probability, but 
 one species of Hippopotamus. It inhabits Africa exclu- 
 sively, and is found in plenty on the banks of many 
 rivers in that country, where it may be seen gambolling 
 and snorting at all times of the day. 
 
 These animals are quiet and inoffensive while undis- 
 turbed, but if attacked they unite to repel the invader, 
 and have been known to tear several planks from the 
 side of a boat and sink it. They can remain about five 
 or six minutes under water, and when they emerge they 
 make a loud and very peculiar snorting noise, which 
 can be heard at a great distance. 
 
 The hide is very thick and strong, and is chiefly used 
 for whips. The well-known " cow-hides " are made of 
 this material. Between the skin and flesh is a layer of 
 fat, which is salted and eaten by the Dutch colonists 
 of Southern Africa. When salted it is called Zee-koe 
 speck or Sea-cow's bacon. The flesh is also in some 
 request. 
 
 The Hippopotamus feeds entirely on vegetable sub- 
 stances, such as grass and brushwood. From the con- 
 struction of the head, the animal is enabled to raise its 
 eyes and nostrils above the water at the same time, so 
 that it can survey the prospect and breathe without 
 raising more than an inch or two of its person from the 
 water. In order to attain this object, the eyes are very 
 small, and placed very high in the head, while the muz- 
 
wood's natural history 103 
 
 zle is very large, and the nostrils open on its upper sur- 
 face. 
 
 Cumming relates that the track of the Hippopotamus 
 may be readily distinguished from that of any other 
 animal by a line of unbroken herbage which is left 
 between the marks of the feet on each side, as the width 
 of the space between the right and left legs causes the 
 animal to place its feet so considerably apart as to 
 make a distinct double track. 
 
 The teeth of the Hippopotamus are the mainstay of 
 the dentist, who cuts from the tusk of a Hippopotamus 
 those series of elegant teeth which replace those that 
 age or accident has struck out of the human mouth. 
 The ivory is exceedingly hard, and does not readily lose 
 its beautiful whiteness, being properties which render 
 it especially valuable for such purposes. 
 
 This is supposed by many to be the animal called 
 Behemoth in Scripture. 
 
 The Sloth's teeth are small and of peculiar structure. 
 Its long and powerful arms are furnished with strong 
 curved claws, which hook round the branches and keep 
 the animal suspended without any effort. When on 
 the ground these claws are very inconvenient, and it 
 can barely shuffle along ; but when it is among its 
 native branches it moves with exceeding rabidity, 
 particularly in a gale of wind, when it passes from 
 branch to branch, and from tree to tree, with an ac- 
 tivity which its movements on the ground by no means 
 portend. 
 
 The Manidae or Pangolins are immediately known by 
 
r jiLSji i . r""H 
 
 32 
 
 o 
 
 H 
 
 o 
 W 
 
 H 
 
 ft 
 
WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 105 
 
 the peculiar strong, horny plates with which their bodies 
 are defended, giving them the appearance of animals 
 enveloped in a suit of scale armor. When attacked 
 they roll themselves up, wrap their tails round them, 
 
 in§ 
 
 Tt& - A ^S-f'^i^S^SF^^ESi&^'i: ^-?':-^---^ :- trie*-. 
 
 THE GIAXT ARMADILLO 
 
 and raise the whole array of sharp-edged scales with 
 which their body is covered, and bid defiance to almost 
 any enemy except man. They live on ants, and ter- 
 mites, or white ants, as they are called, which they 
 take by thrusting their long slender tongue among the 
 ants, which adhere to it by a gummy saliva. When 
 
106 
 
 WOOD S NATCliAL HISTOltY 
 
 the tongue is covered it is rapidly retracted, and the 
 ants swallowed. To obtain the ants, the Pangolins are 
 furnished with powerful claws to tear down the dwell- 
 ings of their prey. 
 
 The Long-tailed Manis is widely scattered through 
 
 THE GREAT ANT-EATER 
 
 Africa, but is not very common. The length of its 
 body is about two feet, and that of its tail rather more 
 than three. 
 
 The Short-tailed Manis is very common in India. Its 
 entire length is about four feet. 
 
 The Armadillos live exclusively in the warmer parts 
 of America. They eat carrion, insects, and sometimes 
 fallen fruit. The great mainstay of these animals lies 
 
wood's natural history 107 
 
 in the number of bisons annually slaughtered for the 
 sake of their hides. The carcasses of these animals are 
 left to rot on the plain, and would speedily do so did 
 not the combined effort of birds and beasts soon destroy 
 every trace of the animal and leave only a heap of bones. 
 In this work the Armadillo takes his full share. 
 
 They burrow with great rapidity, and can only be 
 forced from their refuge by smoke or water. When 
 they are hunted and are very close pressed, they either 
 endeavor to escape their foes by rapidly burrowing into 
 the earth, or try to oppose a partial resistance by roll- 
 ing themselves up and trusting to the protection of 
 their armor. The natives and colonists consider them 
 great delicacies when roasted in their shells. 
 
 The Ant-eater. This curious animal inhabits Guiana, 
 Brazil, and Paraguay. As its name imports, it lives 
 principally upon ants and termites, which it procures in 
 precisely the same manner as was related of the Manis. 
 Its short legs and long claws would lead an observer to 
 suppose that its pace was slow and constrained, but 
 when chased it runs off with a peculiar trot, and with 
 such rapidity that it keeps a horse to its speed to over- 
 take it. 
 
 The tongue of this animal looks exactly like a great 
 red worm, and when the creature is engaged in devour- 
 ing its food, the rapid coiling and twisting of the tongue 
 add in no small degree to the resemblance. 
 
 The claws are very long and curved, and as they are 
 used in tearing down the habitation of the termites or 
 white ants, as they are called, are exceeding strong. 
 
6C 
 
 P 
 
 H 
 
 6 
 O 
 Ph 
 
 H 
 
 w 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 109 
 
 They are placed on the foot in such a manner that 
 when the animal is walking its weight rests on the out- 
 side of the fore-feet and the outer edge of the claws, 
 which make a great clattering if the Ant-eater is walk- 
 ing upon a hard surface. 
 
 When it sleeps, it lies on one side, rolls itself up, 
 so that its snout rests on its breast, places all its feet 
 
 THE I)i:('K-KILI. 
 
 together, and covers itself with its bushy tail. The fur 
 of the animal at all times resembles hay, and when it is 
 thus curled up in sleep, it is so exactly like a bundle of 
 hay, that any one might pass it carelessly, imagining it 
 to be nothing but a loose heap of that substance. Its 
 ordinary length is about three feet seven inches, and 
 its height about three feet. 
 
 The Duck-billed Platypus. Australia, where every- 
 thing seems to be reversed, where the north wind is 
 warm and the south wind cold, the thick end of a pear 
 
110 WOOD'S NATUiiAL HISTORY 
 
 is next the stem, and the stone of a cherry grows out- 
 side, is the residence of this most extraordinary animal. 
 When it was first introduced into Europe, it was fully 
 believed to be the manufacture of some impostor, who 
 with much ingenuity had fixed the beak of a duck into 
 the head of some unknown animal. It will, however, 
 be seen by the skull of the animal that this duck-like 
 beak really belongs to the animal, and is caused by a 
 prolongation of some of the bones of the head. 
 
 It lives by the banks of rivers, in which it burrows 
 like the water-rat. Curiously enough, it finds no 
 difficulty in this labor, for the feet are so constructed 
 that the animal can fold back the web at pleasure, and 
 thus the foot is enabled to perform its task. It feeds 
 upon water-insects and shell-fish, always rejecting the 
 crushed shells after swallowing the inhabitant. The 
 male has a sharp spur on its hind-feet. 
 
 The native name for the creature is " Mullingong. " 
 
BIRDS 
 
 Birds are immediately distinguished from the Mam- 
 malia by their general form, their feathery covering, 
 
 MALE AND FEMALE CONDORS 
 
 their wings, and by producing their young enclosed in 
 eggs. 
 
 The Lammergeyer, or Bearded Vulture, is common 
 in the Alps of Switzerland and Germany. It is said to 
 
 111 
 
THE TWO-TOED SLOTH. 
 
wood's natural history 113 
 
 destroy the larger animals by watching until they are 
 near the brink of a precipice, and suddenly driving 
 them over the rocks by an unexpected swoop. It is 
 exceedingly bold, and shows but little fear of man. 
 
 The name of " Bearded " Vulture is given to it on 
 account of the long tuft of hairs with which each 
 nostril is clothed. The length of its body is about four 
 feet, and the expanse of its wings from nine to ten. 
 
 The Condor. These birds are distinguished by the 
 wattles on their beaks, their naked necks, and the size 
 of the nostrils. The third primary feather is the 
 longest. 
 
 The Condor inhabits the Andes of South America. It 
 is a very large bird. The expanse- of wing is about 
 nine or ten feet, and the length of the bird about three 
 feet. It is exceedingly strong and tenacious of life. 
 
 The Vultures are carrion-devouring animals, and do 
 not attack living animals. The neck of the Vulture is 
 almost naked, very slightly sprinkled with down. 
 
 They display marvellous quickness in discovering a 
 dead animal, to which they fly with great speed. 
 
 The Griffon Vulture is found in almost all parts of the 
 Old World. It is one of the largest of its group, meas- 
 uring upward of four feet in length. Like most of the 
 vultures, it does not appear to move its wings while 
 flying, but soars on expanded pinions in large circles. • 
 
 Vultures are generally protected by the natives of the 
 countries where they reside, on account of their great 
 utility in clearing away the putrid animal matter, which 
 would otherwise be injurious as well as disagreeable. 
 
THE LAMMERGEYER, OR PE.VRDED VULTURE 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 115 
 
 Eagles. The wings of the Golden Eagle are large, 
 powerful, and slightly rounded, the fourth primary 
 
 IMPERIAL EAGLE 
 
 feather being longest. The feet are feathered to the 
 toes. 
 
 The flight of this magnificent bird is peculiarly beauti- 
 ful and imposing, but its gait when on land is rather 
 awkward, for its long talons encumber it. Its food 
 is usually sea birds and the smaller quadrupeds, such 
 
116 wood's natural history 
 
 as hares, rabbits, etc. ; but it does not hesitate to carry 
 off young lambs, or sometimes to destroy a sickly 
 sheep. It generally hunts in pairs, one eagle watching 
 from some height, while the other courses along the 
 ground, and drives the game from the bushes. The 
 male and the female remain together all the year, and 
 very probably for life. It lays two eggs of a yellowish- 
 white color with pale brownish spots, on a nest composed 
 of a great mass of sticks, rushes, and grass, and the 
 young are fledged about the end of July. While the 
 young are in the nest, it is very dangerous to approach 
 the spot, as the Eagles are then extremely fierce and 
 daring. 
 
 Some instances have been related of children that 
 have been carried away by this eagle, but they are 
 very doubtful. Eagles certainly have pounced upon 
 children and carried them a little way ; but there are 
 no true accounts of children having been actually taken 
 to the eagle's nest, although there are many pretty stories 
 founded on such a supposition. 
 
 The Buzzard. The family of the Buzzards are distin- 
 guished by their short beaks, large rounded wings, and 
 squared tails. They all live on small animals, reptiles, 
 and various insects. 
 
 The Common Buzzard, when searching for food, 
 rests upon some high branch, keeping a keen watch 
 on the ground, and waiting patiently until some small 
 animal makes its appearance or some bit of carrion is 
 scented. Its length is from twenty to twenty-two 
 inches. 
 
WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 
 

wood's natural history 
 
 119 
 
 The Kite is spread over Europe, Asia, and Northern 
 Africa. It builds in tall trees, and lays three eggs, 
 white, spotted with reddish-brown at the larger end. 
 Its length is rather more than two feet ; the fourth 
 primary feather is the longest, the first and seventh 
 nearly equal. 
 
 COMMON BUZZARD 
 
 The Peregrine Falcon is an inhabitant of most parts 
 of Europe, Asia, and South America. Its strength and 
 swiftness are very great, enabling it to strike down its 
 prey with great ease ; indeed, it has been known to dis- 
 able five partridges in succession. From its successful 
 pursuit of ducks Americans call it the Duck Hawk. 
 
120 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 It changes the color of its plumage several times 
 before it arrives at full maturity. It builds on ledges 
 of rocks, laying four eggs of a reddish-brown color. 
 Its length is from fifteen to eighteen inches. 
 
 THE GREENLAND FALCON 
 
 The Kestrel, or Windhover, feeds on field-mice. Its 
 nest is usually built in the deserted mansion of a crow or 
 magpie. The eggs are four in number, of a dark reddish- 
 brown. The length is from thirteen to fifteen inches. 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 121 
 
 The Sparrow-iiawk is common throughout Europe. 
 It displays great pertinacity in pursuit of its prey, 
 
 THE SECRETARY BIRD 
 
 which it will chase for a long while, skimming along 
 a few feet above the ground. When taken young it 
 
122 wood's natural history 
 
 is easily tamed, and will then associate with the must 
 incongruous companions. Its length is from twelve 
 to fifteen inches. It builds upon lofty trees. 
 
 The Secretary Bird derives its name from the tufts 
 of feathers at the back of its head, which bear a 
 fanciful resemblance to pens stuck behind the ear. 
 It inhabits South Africa and the Philippine Islands. 
 It feeds on snakes and other reptiles, of Avhich it 
 consumes an amazing number, and is on that account 
 protected. It is easily tamed, and is then exceed- 
 ingly useful. It builds on high trees, laying three 
 large eggs, almost white. Its length is about three 
 feet. 
 
 Owls. A large round head, with enormous eyes look- 
 ing forward, is a distinguishing mark of the Owl family. 
 Many species possess two feathery tufts placed on the 
 head, greatly resembling horns. The Owls are noctur- 
 nal birds, pursuing their prey by night and sleeping 
 during the day. In order to enable them to see their 
 prey, their eyes are enormously large, and capable of 
 taking in every ray of light. In order to protect them 
 from the cold, they are furnished with a dense covering 
 of downy feathers, which also prevent the movements 
 of the wing from being heard. 
 
 The Snowy Owl is an inhabitant of the North of 
 Europe, and is also found in North America. It is 
 a good fisher, snatching its prey from the water by a 
 sudden grasp of the foot. It also preys on lemmings, 
 hares, ptarmigans, etc., chasing and striking at them 
 with its feet. It makes its nest on the ground, and 
 
WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 123 
 
 lays three or four white eggs. Its length is from 
 twenty-two to twenty-seven inches, the expanse of 
 wing four feet. 
 
 The Great-eared Owl, or Eagle Owl, is the largest 
 of the family. This powerful bird attacks hares and 
 
 THE LONG-EARED OWL 
 
 rabbits, together with small birds. It inhabits the 
 North of Europe. It lays its eggs in the clefts of 
 rocks or in ruined buildings. The length of this bird 
 is upward of two feet. 
 
124 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 fe- 
 
 The Barn Owl. The length of the Barn Owl is 
 rather more than twelve inches ; the second pri- 
 mary feather is the longest. Its color is a bright 
 yellowish-brown, marked with dots and lines of vari- 
 
 THE EAGLE OWL 
 
 ous tints, the lines being generally dark and the dots 
 light. 
 
 The Goat-sucker, sometimes called the Fern Owl, 
 is spread over Europe. It may be seen at the approach 
 of evening, silently wheeling round the trees, captur- 
 ing the nocturnal moths and beetles ; then occasionally 
 
wood's natural history 125 
 
 settling and uttering its jarring cry. When flying, the 
 bird sometimes makes its wings meet over its back, and 
 brings them together with a smart snap. The Whip- 
 poor- Will and Chuck- Will's- Widow both belong to this 
 family. 
 
 Swallows are remarkable for their great power of 
 wing, their wide mouths, and short legs. Their wing 
 feathers are long, stiff, and pointed, and their tails are 
 long and forked. 
 
 The Common Swift seems to spend the whole day on 
 the wing, wheeling with wonderful velocity. The num- 
 ber of insects which it destroys is almost incredible. 
 The color of this bird is a dusky black. The length 
 is eight inches, the expanse of wing eighteen inches, 
 and its weight barely one ounce. 
 
 The Sand Martin principally builds in cliffs of sand- 
 stone, boring holes three feet or more in depth. Where 
 a convenient sand-cliff exists, hundreds of these pretty 
 little birds may be seen working away at their habita- 
 tions, or dashing about in the air, looking at a distance 
 like white butterflies, and occasionally returning to 
 the rock, which is often completely honeycombed by 
 their labors. 
 
 The Trogon. The Trogon stands pre-eminent in 
 beauty and brilliancy of plumage, the usual tint being 
 a metallic golden green, boldly contrasted with scarlet, 
 black, and brown. 
 
 The Resplendent Trogon is the most gorgeous of all 
 this gorgeous family. Its long and gracefully curved 
 tail, nearly three feet long, the whole of the upper sur- 
 
126 
 
 WOOD'S NATURAL H1SXORY 
 
 face, and the throat are a glowing green ; the breast and 
 under parts are bright crimson ; the middle feathers 
 
 
 THE KINGFISHER 
 
 of the tail black, and the outer feathers white. This 
 splendid bird is an inhabitant of Mexico, and was used 
 
wood's natural history 127 
 
 by the Mexican nobles as an ornament to their head- 
 dress. 
 
 The Kingfisher. The common Kingfisher is found 
 in most parts of England. Its usual method of 
 fishing is by placing itself on a stump or stone 
 overhanging the water, from which spot it watches for 
 the unsuspecting fish beneath. After a fish is caught, 
 the bird kills it by beating it several times against 
 its resting-place, and then swallowing it, head fore- 
 most. 
 
 The Hoopoe, one of the most elegant birds that visit 
 England, is unfortunately a very rare guest, and seldom, 
 if ever, breeds there. Its beautiful crest can be raised 
 or depressed at pleasure, but is seldom displayed unless 
 the bird is excited from some cause. Its food consists 
 of insects, which it first batters and moulds into an 
 oblong mass, and then swallows, with a peculiar jerk 
 of the head. 
 
 In France Hoopoes are very common, and may be seeK 
 examining old and rotten stumps for the insects that 
 invariably congregate in such places. There they may 
 be seen in flocks, but they never seem to come over to 
 England in greater numbers than one pair at a time. 
 M. Bechstein gives a curious account of the attitude 
 assumed by the Hoopoe on perceiving a large bird in 
 the air. " As soon as they perceived a raven, or even 
 a pigeon, they were on their bellies in the twinkling 
 of an eye, their wings stretched out by the side of 
 the head, so that the large quill feathers touched the 
 head, leaning on the back with the bill pointing up- 
 
Humming Bibd. 
 
 
WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 129 
 
 ward. In this curious posture they might be taken 
 for an old rag ! " 
 
 The Hoopoe lays from four to seven gray eggs in the 
 hollow of a tree. Its length is one foot. 
 
 RACKET-TAILED HUMMING-BIRD 
 
 The Humming-bird. Though least in size, the glit- 
 tering mantle of the Humming-bird entitles it to the 
 first place in the list of the birds of the New World. 
 It may truly be called the Bird of Paradise ; and had 
 it existed in the Old World, it would have claimed 
 the title instead of the bird which has now the honoi 
 

 130 wood's natural history 
 
 to bear it. See it darting through the air almost as 
 quick as thought ! Now it is within a yard of your 
 face — in an instant gone — now it flutters from flower 
 to flower to sip the silver dew — it is now a ruby — 
 now a topaz — now an emerald — now all burnished gold. 
 
 The tongue of the Humming-bird is formed much 
 like that of the woodpecker, being curled round the 
 head, under the skin, and thus capable of being darted 
 to a considerable distance. 
 
 Like many other little creatures, the Humming-bird 
 is remarkable for its assurance and impudence. It is 
 easily tamed for that very reason, and has been known to 
 domesticate itself in an hour from the time of its cap- 
 ture, and even when released it has returned again to 
 partake of the dainties which it had tasted during its 
 captivity. 
 
 There are an immense number of species of these 
 exquisite birds, varying from the size of a swift to that 
 of a humble-bee. 
 
 The nests are very neat and beautiful, and as may be 
 imagined from the diminutive size of the little archi- 
 tect exceedingly small. They are composed of down, 
 cotton, etc., and are sometimes covered on the outside 
 with mosses and lichens. 
 
 The Wren. The American House Wren is larger 
 than the European Wren, being about five inches long. 
 It is of a reddish-brown color, and is a good fighter, 
 and will attack bluebirds and swallows. The nest of 
 the Wren is built in any convenient cranny ; an ivy- 
 covered tree, the thatch of a barn, or a warm scare- 
 
M 
 A 
 
 o 
 
wood's natural history 131 
 
 crow are all used by this fearless little bird. The nest 
 is usually of an oval shape, always covered on the out- 
 side with some material resembling the color of the 
 objects round it, such as green moss if built among 
 ivy, or brown lichen if built on a rock or in the fork of 
 a withered branch. The eggs are six or eight in num- 
 ber — white, speckled with reddish-brown. 
 
 Lyre Bird, a name applied to two birds of Australia, 
 from the lyre-shaped outline of the erect tail-feathers 
 of the male. 
 
 The Nightingale, so famous for its singing, is of a 
 quiet brown color, and is a little larger than the spar- 
 row. It is found in Europe and Asia, but does not go 
 far north. It usually begins to sing in the evening, 
 and continues its song all through the night. The 
 inimitable song of this Mendelssohn among birds loses a 
 great part of its beauty when uttered by day, deadened 
 and confused with other sounds. 
 
 The Warblers are spread over almost the entire 
 globe, and many gladden this country with their pleas- 
 ant songs. 
 
 The Blackcap, almost a rival of the nightingale, is at 
 once recognized by the black color of the crown of the 
 head. Only the males, however, are thus decorated, 
 the crown of the head of the female being dark brown. 
 Its sweet notes are poured forth from the concealment 
 of some thicket or tuft of trees, where it trusts to the 
 density of the foliage to elude discovery. Like the 
 mocking-bird of America, it can imitate the songs of 
 other birds with such perfect inflection that it is almost 
 
162 wood's natural history 
 
 impossible to detect the imposture. Among bushes 
 and brambles it builds its nest, which is made of dried 
 grass, moss, and hairs. 
 
 The Golden -crested Regulus is one of the smallest of 
 British birds. Fir plantations are its favorite resort, 
 and there it may be seen hopping about the branches, 
 or running round them, head downward, in search of 
 the insects hidden beneath the bark. Its note is weak 
 but very pleasing, and much resembles that of the 
 common wren. 
 
 The Redbreast, or Robin Redbreast, as it is affection- 
 ately termed, has by its fearless conduct earned itself 
 golden opinions from all kinds of men. Every nation 
 seems to protect it. 
 
 In the winter, when the berries are gone, insects 
 dead, and the worms hidden under the hard frozen soil, 
 then the Robin flies for refuge to the habitations of 
 man for shelter and food. It is very amusing to see 
 the half -trusting, half -fearful look with which it hops 
 to the window-sill for the first time. After a while it 
 becomes bold and taps at the window, if the expected 
 crumbs are not thrown out. Before very long it ven- 
 tures to enter the room, hops about on the table, and 
 quite seems to consider as a right what was first merely 
 a favor. When once established it is very jealous, and 
 will not suffer a friend to be partaker of the same com- 
 forts, but attacks him with the greatest fury ; so the 
 unfortunate second comer has to wait shivering outside 
 the window, with his feathers puffed up, and his little 
 eye glancing from the depths of his plumage. 
 
THE LYRE-BIRD. 
 

 134 wood's natural history 
 
 The nest of this bird is built in a crevice of an old 
 ivied wall, in a bank, sheltered by the roots of a tree, 
 or in a mass of ivy clinging to an old tree. 
 
 The Wagtail, so named from the almost incessant 
 vibration of its tail, is exclusively confined to the Old 
 World. It runs with great rapidity, and altogether 
 looks very like a diminutive magpie. 
 
 The Water Ouzel, or Dipper, is found principally 
 in hilly places where there are clear and rapid 
 streams. It dives for a considerable distance with 
 apparent ease, and has a habit of dipping and rising 
 repeatedly. 
 
 The Song-Thrush, Throstle, or Mavis, is deservedly 
 considered one of the best singing birds. Its power- 
 ful and rich notes may be heard even during the month 
 of January, when most of the other singing birds are 
 either silent or have departed. 
 
 The Blackbird is a delightful songster, whose jetty 
 hue and " orange-tawny bill " are well known. The 
 habits of this bird are not unlike those of the thrush, 
 especially in its zeal for unearthing the cockchaff'er 
 grubs, and possibly for eating cherries when they are 
 ripe. 
 
 The Mocking-bird, or Polyglot Thrush, is a native of 
 most parts of America. This wonderful bird stands 
 pre-eminent in powers of song. Not only are its nat- 
 ural notes bold and spirited, but it has the faculty of 
 imitating with deceptive fidelity every sound it hears. 
 To its flexible organs, the harsh setting of a saw, the 
 song of a nightingale, the creaking of a wheel, the 
 
WOOD S KATURAL HISTORY 
 
 13o 
 
 whistled tune of a passerby, the full and mellow notes 
 of the thrush, the barking of a dog, the crowing of a 
 cock, and the savage scream of the bald eagle are 
 each equally easy of execution, and follow one another 
 with such marvellous rapidity that few can believe that 
 
 C^^^^C^^^^^^^^-'^^-^' t$.. ss£5=3P 
 
 THE MOCKING-BIRD 
 
 the insignificant brown bird before them is the sole 
 author of these varied sounds. 
 
 While sitting on its eggs it is an exceedingly coura- 
 geous bird, attacking without discrimination man, dogs, 
 or any animal who may approach too near the nest. 
 But the black snake is the special object of its ven- 
 

 136 wood's natural history 
 
 geance. The snake, which has perhaps just arrived at 
 the vicinity of the nest, and is contemplating a pleas- 
 ant breakfast on the young or eggs, is violently attacked 
 by the enraged Mocking-bird, which, by repeated blows 
 on the head, generally destroys its enemy, and then, 
 mounting on a bush, pours forth a triumphant song of 
 victory. 
 
 The nest is made generally in a bush or apple-tree, 
 frequently close to houses, as the bird is protected by 
 the inhabitants. The Mocking-bird is often kept tame, 
 in which case, so far from its imitative powers show- 
 ing any decrease, the variety of domestic sounds heard 
 about the house is often very perplexing. 
 
 The Spotted Flycatcher may be considered as the 
 type of the entire family. It takes its station on some 
 elevated spot, such as the overhanging bough of a tree, 
 a post, or a rail ; and from thence watches for a pass- 
 ing insect, on seeing which, it darts from its post, 
 secures the insect in the air, and returns to the same 
 spot by a short circular flight. 
 
 The Shrikes, or Butcher Birds, well deserve their 
 name, as they live upon insects and small birds, which 
 they kill, and afterward transfix with a thorn, prepara- 
 tory to devouring them. They take their prey much 
 after the same manner as the flycatchers, by darting or. 
 it from some place of concealment. 
 
 Weaver Bird, a common name for a sub-family of the 
 finches, remarkable for their curious nests. Compara- 
 tively little is known of these birds, as they are mostly- 
 African, although a few are Asiatic ; but their remark- 
 
WEAVER BIRDS. 
 
138 wood's natural history 
 
 able nests, constructed so as to protect the eggs and 
 young from snakes and monkeys, have long been objects 
 of curiosity. 
 
 The Jay, so well known for the beautiful blue mark- 
 ings on its wings, is rather a shy bird, preferring to 
 reside in the thickest woods, and. seldom coming into 
 the open country. It is easily tamed when young, and 
 is very amusing when domesticated. This bird pos- 
 sesses, like several others of the same family, consider- 
 able talents for mimicry. It has been known to imitate 
 the sound of a saw, the bleat of a lamb, or even the 
 neighing of a horse with the most perfect accuracy. 
 
 The Magpie is well known for its thieving and hid- 
 ing propensities. The nest of the Magpie is built on a 
 high tree and curiously defended with thorns, having a 
 small hole just large enough to admit the owners. 
 
 The Raven is very common in Europe and most 
 parts of Asia and America. It lives principally on 
 carrion of various kinds, such as dead sheep or lambs, 
 and on fishes which have been cast on shore. 
 
 The Rook inhabits almost every part of Europe, and 
 is very common in England, where it lives in a kind of 
 semi-domestication, usually inhabiting a grove of trees 
 near a house. 
 
 The Jackdaw is another well-known bird. It does 
 not build in the branches of trees like the rook, to 
 which it is very similar in many respects, but prefers 
 holes in decayed trees or old buildings, particularly 
 frequenting church towers and steeples. The Jack 
 daw feeds upon almost any substance that it can find. 
 
wood's natural history 139 
 
 The Crow, or Carrion Crow, as it is erroneously 
 called, seldom feeds on carrion ; for poor indeed would 
 be his meals were he dependent on dead sheep or 
 horses for a livelihood. Possibly the name was given 
 as a distinction between it and the rook. Waterton 
 states that the flesh of the Carrion Crow is just as 
 good as that of the rook, and relates how he once served 
 up a pie of these birds to some friends, who thought 
 them pigeons. It will also eat cherries and walnuts 
 like the rook, and when the supply of insects has 
 failed, it will then turn its attention to the duck-pond 
 or farmyard, and carry off a young duckling or chicken. 
 
 It also carries off eggs, by pouncing upon them, and 
 driving its bill through the shell, and even mice and 
 rats are not unaccustomed food. 
 
 The Chough inhabits the counties of the western 
 coast of England, and is, perhaps, more common in 
 Cornwall than in any other county. 
 
 The Emerald Bird of Paradise. This bird is about 
 the size of a jay. Its body, breast, and lower parts are 
 of a deep rich brown : the front set close with black 
 feathers shot with green ; the throat is of a rich golden 
 green ; the head yellow ; the sides of the tail are 
 clothed with a splendid plume of long downy feathers, 
 of a soft yellow color. By these are placed two long 
 filamentous shafts, which extend nearly two feet in 
 length. 
 
 Of these beautiful feathers the bird is so proud that 
 it will not suffer the least speck of dirt to remain upon 
 them, and it is constantly examining its plumage to see 
 
' ^ f 
 
 BIRD OF PARADISE 
 
 I 
 
Kl'M 4;ik;> ok paradise. 
 
 
142 wood's natural history 
 
 that there are no spots on it. When in its wild state, 
 it always flies and sits with its face to the wind, lest its 
 elegant filmy plumes should be disarranged. 
 
 The Baltimore Oriole is an inhabitant of the whole 
 of Northern America, its range extending from Canada 
 to Mexico — even as far south as Brazil. 
 
 It is a migratory bird, arriving about the beginning 
 of May, and departing toward the end of August or the 
 beginning of September. This species is remarkably 
 familiar and fearless of man, hanging its beautiful pen- 
 sile nest upon the garden-trees, and even venturing into 
 the streets wherever a green tree flourishes. 
 
 The coloring of the bird is as follows : The head and 
 throat, together with the upper part of the back and 
 the wings, are deep black, with the exception of an 
 orange bar upon the shoulders. The lower part of the 
 back and the whole of the under surface are bright 
 orange, warming into scarlet on the breast. 
 
 From these colors the bird has derived the names of 
 Golden Robin and Fire Bird. Its total length is about 
 seven inches. 
 
 The Common Starling is a bird well known both for 
 its beauty and its singular method of flight. When a 
 flock of Starlings begin to settle for the night, they 
 wheel round the place selected with great accuracy. 
 Suddenly, as if by word of command, the whole flock 
 turn their sides to the spectator, and with a great 
 whirring of wings the whole front and shape of the 
 flock is altered. No body of soldiers could be better 
 wheeled or countermarched than are these flocks of 
 
WOODS NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 143 
 
 Starlings, except, perhaps, an unfortunate few, who are 
 usually thrown out at each change, and whom we must 
 charitably suppose to be recruits. 
 
 SKYLARK, WOODLARK, AND CRESTED LARK 
 
 The Starling lives principally among old buildings, 
 and is very fond of gaining admittance into dovecotes, 
 where it is a harmless visitor, and may be suffered to 
 remain without detriment to the pigeons or their eggs» 
 
144 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 Its nest is made usually in a hole in a wall, sometimes 
 in a decayed tree, and contains five eggs of a very deli- 
 cate, uniformly pale blue. 
 
 ><s: 
 
 TWO-HORNED HORNBILL 
 
 The Grosbeak or Hawkfinch well deserves its generic 
 name of " Berry -breaker," for its beak is capable of 
 breaking the hard kernels of the cherry. 
 
Stablings. 
 
146- -wood's natural history 
 
 ■ 
 
 The Chaffinch or Piefinch is chiefly remarkable for 
 the beautiful nest which it constructs. The forks 
 of a thorp or wild crab-tree are favorite places for 
 the nest vvhich is composed of mosses, hair, wool, and 
 feathers. 
 
 The Goldfinch or Thistlefinch in captivity is very 
 tame, and can be trained to perform a multitude of 
 tricks ; the most common of which are, drawing its own 
 food and water with a chain and bucket, or firing a gun 
 when commanded. 
 
 The Canary. This pretty little songster is so well 
 known as to need but little description, particularly as 
 there are no opportunities of studying its natural 
 course of life. From the manner in which the Canary 
 is usually reared, it is evident that the bird has but 
 very little opportunity of exhibiting its natural in- 
 stincts. 
 
 The Sparrow. The courageous, impudent, quarrel- 
 some Sparrow is known to all, and, therefore, will not 
 be particularly described. 
 
 The Yellow-hammer or Yellow Bunting is a very 
 delicately marked little bird, very common in England. 
 
 Some say that the name ought to be Yellow-Ammer, 
 the word Ammer being German for Bunting, and the 
 German word for this bird being Goldammer. 
 
 The Larks are known by their very long hind toe. 
 The Skylark, which pours forth its animated song 
 while suspended high in the air, is an inhabitant of 
 most parts of Europe, Asia, and North Africa, but is 
 not found in America. 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 147 
 
 The Bullfinch when well trained whistles or " pipes " 
 any melody which has been taught it, in a fine flute- 
 like tone. A good piping Bullfinch sells at a very high 
 
 THE TOUCAN 
 
 price. The method of teaching is to confine the birds 
 in a dark room, and, before their food is given, to play 
 the air that they have to learn, on an instrument called 
 a bird-organ. The birds soon begin to imitate the 
 notes, and by degrees the whole tune is learned. Some 
 

 148 wood's natural history 
 
 trainers substitute a small clarionet for the bird- 
 organ. 
 
 When in captivity the Bullfinch is very sociable, and 
 soon learns to know its owners, and to come to them 
 when called. The name of Bullfinch is given to it on 
 account of the large proportionate size of its head and 
 neck. 
 
 The Rhinoceros Hornbill. This singular and almost 
 startling family comprises but few species, which are all 
 natives of India and Africa. The enormous bill, with its 
 incomprehensible appendage, although of course heavy, 
 is really much lighter than it looks ; being composed of 
 a kind of light honeycombed structure. The upper pro- 
 tuberance is hollow, and the only conjecture formed of its 
 use is that it serves as a sounding-board to increase the 
 sound while the bird is uttering its peculiar roaring 
 cry. 
 
 The Hornbills seem to be omnivorous — fruits, eggs, 
 birds, reptiles, etc., forming their food. The African 
 Hornbills are extremely fond of nutmegs, and are, on 
 that account, said to be peculiarly delicate eating. 
 
 The Toucans are all natives of tropical America. 
 Their enormous bill is rendered light in the same way as 
 that of the hornbills, by being chiefly composed of a 
 honeycomb structure. They are particularly fond of 
 mice and small birds. When sleeping, the Toucan 
 takes great care of its bill, packing it away, and cover- 
 ing it carefully with the feathers of its back. 
 
 The Parrots are said to be very long-lived ; some have 
 certainly been known to live upward of eighty years in 
 
GJREAT BLACK COCKATOO, WITH CKEST ERECTED 
 
WOOD'S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 151 
 
 captivity, and may be imagined to exceed that period 
 in a wild state. 
 
 The Macaws are natives of South America. The 
 blue-and-yellow Macaw inhabits Brazil, Guiana, and 
 Surinam, living principally on the banks of rivers. 
 
 THE GRAY PARROT 
 
 The Ringed Parrakeet is frequently seen domesticated. 
 It soon learns to repeat words and short sentences, and to 
 speak with tolerable distinctness. The color of the bird 
 is green, and a rose-colored band round its neck gives 
 it the name of the Rose-ringed Parrakeet. The bill 
 is red. 
 

 
 152 wood's natural history 
 
 The Cockatoos are remarkable for the powdery surfae 
 of their wings, and for the crest on the head, which ca 
 be raised or depressed at pleasure. The Sulphur- 
 crested Cockatoo is an inhabitant of New Guinea. Its 
 color is white, and the crest is of a sulphur yellow. 
 This Cockatoo is easily tamed, and is of a very affection- 
 ate disposition. When in captivity it has been known 
 to live to the age of one hundred and twenty years. 
 
 The Woodpeckers, whose name indicates their habits, 
 are widely spread, being found in all quarters of the 
 globe except Australia. They subsist on insects and 
 grubs, which they dig out of trees or discover under the 
 bark. The bill is long, sharp, and powerful, and the 
 formation of the feet and legs is such that the bird can 
 grasp the tree firmly with the feet, while swinging with 
 the force of his whole body against it. 
 
 It appears to be an erroneous opinion that these birds 
 injure trees. Their only object in pecking away the wood 
 and bark is to get at the insects which they know are 
 hidden within. Now insects seldom or never bore into 
 healthy wood, but a decayed branch or stump is always 
 full of them ; so the woodpecker, when he perceives a 
 decayed branch or finds an unsound spot in the trunk, 
 immediately sets to work industriously, and is rewarded 
 by finding plenty of insects, which he draws out and 
 demolishes, with benefit to himself and good to others. 
 
 The Wryneck is tolerably common in the southern 
 counties of England, but is scarcely ever seen in the 
 north and west. It feeds principally on ants, which it 
 picks up with great rapidity by means of its long 
 
WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 153 
 
 tongue ; twisting its head and neck, and hissing like a 
 serpent, if disturbed upon its eggs. The young also 
 hiss if they are molested. 
 
 The Cuckoo, spring's harbinger, has in all ages ob- 
 tained for itself a name at once pleasing and disrepu- 
 
 THE COMMON CUCKOO 
 
 table : pleasing, because its well-known notes are a sign 
 that the cold winter is gone ; and disreputable, because 
 it usurps the nests of other birds, of which the hedge 
 sparrow is the usual victim. In its nest the Cuckoo 
 deposits one of its own eggs, which are remarkably 
 
154 wood's natural history 
 
 small in proportion to the size of the bird. The unsus- 
 pecting hedge sparrow hatches the intruder together 
 with her own young. The Cuckoo rapidly increases in 
 size, and monopolizes no small portion of the entire 
 nest, besides taking the lion's share of the provisions. 
 The mother, however, never seems to see the difference, 
 but feeds and tends the interloper with quite as much 
 care as her own young. 
 
 The young Cuckoo ejects the former and rightful 
 occupants of the nest by managing to get the egg or 
 young bird upon its back, clambering up to the edge of 
 the nest, and then throwing it over by a sharp jerk. 
 The American Cuckoo only occasionally appropriates 
 another's nest, but it exhibits an unnatural neglect of 
 its offspring. It is a disagreeable, greedy, and bad- 
 tempered bird. The Cuckoo derives its name from its 
 cry of coo-coo. 
 
 The Dove. This family is supposed to be more 
 widely distributed than any other. 
 
 The Ringdove. A black ringlet round the neck, 
 edged with white, gives it the name of Ringdove. 
 
 The Tumbler is a very little pigeon, and derives its 
 name from its singular habit of falling backward when 
 on the wing. Pigeon fanciers assert that a flight of 
 twelve Tumblers may be covered with a handkerchief. 
 
 The Pouter is a large pigeon. It stands particularly 
 erect, and seems exceedingly vain of the swollen crop 
 which gives it the name of Pouter. The bird is enabled 
 to inflate its crop with air until the head is almost hid^ 
 den behind it. This inflation sometimes causes the 
 
 
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 O 
 
 M 
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 O 
 
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 o 
 
 s 
 
 o 
 
 
 « 
 
 H 
 

 156 wood's natural history 
 
 bird to lose its balance, and fall down chimneys on 
 which it is fond of standing, thereby illustrating the 
 proverb that " Pride will have a fall." 
 
 The Carrier Pigeon is the bird that is still largel 
 employed to take messages. The most valuable Carriers 
 were trained to carry to and from their residence. A 
 letter was written on a small piece of paper, and 
 fastened under the wing of the pigeon, or to its feet. 
 The feet were then bathed in vinegar to keep them 
 cool, lest the bird should stop on the way to bathe. 
 When the pigeon was set free, it rose high in the air, 
 made one or two circular flights, and then darted off 
 like an arrow in the proper direction. One of these 
 birds has been known to fly nearly one hundred and 
 fifty miles in one hour. 
 
 In America the Wild Pigeon used to be seen in 
 enormous flocks, which, as they migrated, really hid 
 the sun, destroyed forests miles wide, breaking down 
 the branches with their weight, paid wasting the crops 
 far and wide. This bird moves with extraordinary 
 speed, and goes enormous distances. Many have been 
 killed in New York State with their crops full of rice 
 that they must have eaten in Georgia. That means 
 that they flew three hundred miles in six hours. In 
 1813 Audubon says the air was literally filled with 
 pigeons, and the midday sun, darkened as in an eclipse, 
 and the flocks flew over him in countless numbers for 
 three whole days. But, like the buffalo, the Wild 
 Pigeon is nearly exterminated. 
 
 The Peacock is well known for its magnificent plu* 
 
 
PEACOCK DISPLAYING 
 
158 
 
 WOOD'S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 mage and its brill- 
 iantly colored spread 
 of tail feathers. The 
 gorgeous plumes do 
 not compose the tail, 
 as many suppose, but 
 are only the tail 
 coverts. The tail 
 feathers themselves 
 are short and rigid, 
 and serve to keep the 
 train spread, as may 
 be seen when the bird 
 walks about in all 
 the majesty of his 
 plumage. 
 
 The voice of the 
 Peacock is as un- 
 pleasant and unmu- 
 sical as its external 
 appearance is attrac- 
 tive. 
 
 The train of the 
 male Peacock, al- 
 though popularly 
 called its tail, is in 
 reality composed of 
 the upper tail cov- 
 erts, which are enor- 
 mously lengthened, 
 
wood's natural history 159 
 
 and finished at their extremities with broad rounded 
 webs, or with spear-shaped ends. The shafts of these 
 feathers are almost bare of web for some fourteen or 
 fifteen inches of their length, and then throw out a num- 
 ber of long loose vanes of a light coppery green. These 
 are very brittle and apt to snap off at different lengths. 
 In the central feathers the extremity is modified into 
 a wide flattened battledore-shaped form, each barbule 
 being colored with refulgent emerald-green, deep violet- 
 purple, greenish-bronze, gold and blue, in such a man- 
 ner as to form a distinct " eye," the centre being violet 
 of two shades, surrounded with emerald, and the other 
 tints being arranged concentrically around it. In the 
 feathers that edge the train there is no " eye," the 
 feathers coming to a point at the extremity, and having 
 rather wide but loose emerald-green barbules on the 
 outer web, and a few scattered coppery barbules in the 
 place of the inner web. The tail feathers are only 
 seven or eight inches in length, are of a grayish-brown 
 color, and can be seen when the train is erected, that 
 being their appointed task. 
 
 On the head is a tuft or aigrette of twenty-four up- 
 right feathers, blackish upon their almost naked shafts, 
 and rich golden-green shot with blue on their expanded 
 tips. The top of the head, the throat, and neck are 
 the most refulgent blue, changing in different lights 
 to gold and green. On the back the feathers are 
 golden-green, edged with velvety black, giving a pecul- 
 iar richness of effect. The wings are darker than the 
 rest of the plumage, the quill feathers being marked 
 
a J^-ML 
 
wood's natural history 161 
 
 with black, and having some red about them. The 
 abdomen is blackish with a green gloss, and the feathers 
 of the thighs are fawn. The female is much smaller 
 than her mate, and not nearly so beautiful, the train 
 being almost wanting, and the color ashy brown with 
 the exception of the throat and neck which are green. 
 A white or albino variety of this bird is not at all 
 uncommon, and in this case the characteristic " eyes " 
 are faintly indicated in neutral tint. 
 
 The Common Pheasant is a hardy bird, and bears 
 the cold months very well. Although it can be tamed, 
 and will come to be fed with the poultry, yet an innate 
 timidity prevents it from being thoroughly domesti- 
 cated. 
 
 This bird loves to perch at night on trees, especially 
 on the spreading branches of the larch. Poachers are 
 so well aware of this habit that they always visit the 
 larches first while on their marauding excursions. 
 
 A few spruce firs surrounded b}^ dense and tall holly 
 hedges form an excellent place of refuge for the birds, 
 who can bid the poacher defiance from their strong- 
 hold ; while a few dozen wooden pheasants nailed on 
 the branches of the unguarded trees are admirably 
 adapted for trying the patience and wasting the ammu- 
 nition of the nocturnal plunderer. 
 
 A white variety of the Pheasant sometimes occurs, 
 but seems never to be propagated. The nest of the 
 bird is made on the ground, and contains from ten to 
 eighteen eggs of a uniform dun color. 
 
 The Pheasant is now naturalized throughout a great 
 

 162 wood's natural histoby 
 
 part of Europe. It is very beautifully marked with a 
 great variety of changing colors. In England it exists 
 in a half -domesticated state, and is fattened with grain, 
 attaining sometimes a weight of five pounds. Pheas- 
 ants are collected at the proper time in large numbers, 
 and slaughtered by so-called sportsmen en battue. The 
 flesh is very excellent food. This bird hybridize} 
 readily with most other gallinaceous birds. The name 
 Pheasant is also popularly extended in some parts of th< 
 United States to the ruffed grouse. 
 
 The Argus Pheasant is a genus of gallinaceous 
 birds remarkable for rich and brilliant plumage. Il 
 is a native of Sumatra and other parts of the Easl 
 Indies, and is about equal in size to a common barn- 
 door fowl. Two of the tail feathers of the male are 
 about four feet long. The name Argus is given in 
 reference to the beautiful circular eye-like markings 
 which adorn the plumage of the male, especially on 
 the secondaries of the wings. 
 
 The Domestic Fowls are too well known to need 
 much description. 
 
 The Game Fowl was formerly in great request fo] 
 the cruel sport of cock-fighting. 
 
 The Java Fowl, of which the enormous Cochin-Chinj 
 bird is a variety, is supposed to be the origin of th< 
 barn-door fowl. The cock has been long celebratei 
 for his war-like propensities, and his habit of greet- 
 ing the approach of morn by his "shrill clarion." 
 
 The Bantam is a very little bird indeed, but exceed- 
 ingly courageous, and does not hesitate to attack 
 
 
wood's natural history 163 
 
 turkey or such large bird. Some Bantams have their 
 legs thickly feathered down to the very toes. 
 
 The Turkey is a native of America, and appears 
 to have been imported into Europe about the year 
 1600. It is partly migratory in its habits. The 
 march is usually performed on foot, the birds seldom 
 using their wings except when attacked, or in order 
 to cross a river. 
 
 The Partridge is one of the birds included in the 
 designation of " game." It lays from fifteen to twenty 
 eggs in a rude nest placed on the ground, and displays 
 great attachment to them, and no small ingenuity in 
 decoying an intruder away. 
 
 The length of the bird is twelve inches and a half; 
 the wing is short and rounded, causing the peculiar 
 whirring sound when in motion. 
 
 The Quail (Bob White, so called) is a quite common 
 little bird, visiting America in the summer. Countless 
 flocks of them are spread over the Southern and Middle 
 States, and many are taken and sent to the New York 
 markets. 
 
 Temmick states that hundreds of thousands arrive 
 in Naples and Provence, and are so fatigued that for 
 several days they suffer themselves to be taken by 
 hand. We are here reminded of the flight of Quails 
 with which the Israelites were fed, the sacred nar- 
 rative even preserving the nocturnal flight of these 
 birds. " And it came to pass, that at even the Quails 
 came up and covered the camp." Probably the in- 
 stinct to fly by night is implanted in them for the 
 
164 WOODS NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 purpose of avoiding the birds of prey that would 
 attack them by day. The female lays from seven to 
 twelve eggs in a rude nest on the ground. The length 
 of the bird is seven inches. 
 
 The Black Grouse, or Black Cock, is still found on 
 the moors of Scotland and some parts of England, and, 
 together with the Red Grouse, tempts innumerable 
 sportsmen annually to spend their leisure months on 
 the moors. 
 
 The Ptarmigan. The common Ptarmigan inhabits 
 the northern parts of Europe and America, and is also 
 found in the north of Scotland, principally among the 
 mountains. The color of the bird is so similar to that 
 of the mossy and lichen-covered rocks among which it 
 dwells, that a whole covey easily eludes an unprac- 
 tised eye. In winter it turns white. 
 
 The Australian Jungle Fowl inhabits the dense 
 thickets bordering on the seashore, and is never found 
 far inland. 
 
 The birds of this family are all remarkable for the 
 shortness of their wings, which are weak and unable to 
 raise them from the ground, but appear to assist them 
 in running. 
 
 The Ostrich. The Ostrich is the largest bird as yet 
 known to exist, its height being from six to eight feet. 
 It is an inhabitant of Africa, and from thence the 
 elegant plumes are brought. These plumes are mostly 
 obtained from the wings of the bird and not from the 
 tail as is generally imagined. 
 
 An immense number of eggs are laid by the Ostriches 
 
OSTRICHES. 
 
166 wood's natural history 
 
 in one spot, several birds belonging to each nest. The 
 eggs are very large and strong, and are in general use 
 by the Bosjesmans for holding water. By means of 
 these eggs, which they bury at intervals in the sand, 
 after filling them with water, they are enabled to make 
 inroads across the desert and retreat with security, as 
 none can follow them for want of water. Each egg holds 
 rather more than five pints. An excellent omelet is 
 made by the natives, by burying the fresh egg in hot 
 ashes, and stirring round the contents with a stick 
 through a hole in the upper end, until thoroughly 
 cooked. 
 
 The principal strength of the Ostrich tribe lies in 
 the legs. These limbs are so powerful that a swift 
 horse has great difficulty in overtaking the bird. As 
 the Ostrich runs mostly in large curves, the hunters 
 cut across and intercept the bird, which would in all 
 probability escape if followed in its exact course. It is 
 easily tamed. 
 
 The Cassowary is a native of the eastern parts of 
 Asia. Like the ostrich it cannot fly, but runs with 
 great swiftness, and if attacked by dogs kicks with 
 • extreme force and rapidity. 
 
 The Emeu is a native of New Holland, and nearly 
 equals the ostrich in bulk, its height being between 
 five and six feet. Its feathers lie loosely on the body, 
 and its wings are small and hardly to be distinguished. 
 The skin of the Emeu furnishes a "bright and clear oil, 
 on which account it is eagerly sought after. 
 
 In its manners the Emeu bears a close resemblance to 
 
AUSTRALIAN CASSOWARY 
 
168 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 
 the ostrich. Its food appears to be wholly vegetable, 
 consisting chiefly of fruits, roots, and herbage, and it 
 is consequently, notwithstanding its great strength, per- 
 
 EMEU AND CHICKS 
 
 fectly inoffensive. The length of its legs and the mus- 
 cularity of its thighs enable it to run with great swift- 
 ness ; and as it is exceedingly sh}^, it is not easily 
 overtaken or brought within gun-shot. 
 
 The Apteryx. This extraordinary bird, whose name 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 169 
 
 is derived from the apparent absence of wings, those 
 members being merely rudimentary, inhabits the islands 
 of New Zealand. It conceals itself among the densest 
 fern, and when hunted by dogs, it hastens to seek a 
 refuge among rocks and in the chambers which it 
 
 THE DODO 
 
 excavates in the earth. This bird has a singular habit 
 of resting with the top of its bill placed on the 
 ground. 
 
 The Dodo. This singular bird, which is now extinct, 
 was discovered in the Mauritius by the earlier voyagers. 
 Sir T. Hubert, in the year 1627, writes: — 
 
 " The Dodo, a bird the Dutch call Walghvogle, or 
 Dod Eersen; her body is round and fat, which occasions 
 
170 wood's natural history 
 
 the slow pace, or that her corpulencie, and so great as 
 few of them weigh less than fifty pounds." 
 
 The representation given by him is that of a globular- 
 shaped bird, perfectly naked, with the exception of 
 three separate feathers on the tail, and a few feathers 
 on the wing. 
 
 It is still within the range of possibility that this 
 bird may again be discovered, as at present but little of 
 Madagascar has been searched, and in that island, if 
 anywhere, it will be found. 
 
 The Great Bustard. The male Bustard possesses a 
 membranous pouch on the fore part of the neck, ca- 
 pable of holding six or seven pints of water. There is 
 an opening to this pouch under the tongue, and its use 
 is possibly, like that of the pelican, to carry water for 
 the need of the young ; but this is not ascertained. 
 
 The Plovers. The Golden Plover is very common 
 in most parts of the United States, and is well known 
 from its plaintive cry, and the stratagems it employs 
 to decoy intruders away from its nest, or rather eggs, for 
 nest it has none. Frequently, however, the attempts 
 of the bird only draw the attention of the passerby to 
 the evident vicinity of the eggs. These eggs are dark 
 brown, blotched with black, and are hardly to be dis- 
 tinguished from the soil where they are laid. 
 
 The Common Crane is now but rarely seen. It gen- 
 erally feeds on snails, frogs, and worms, but is not by 
 any means averse to newly sown grain. 
 
 The Heron. The Common Heron generally breeds 
 in company. In the dawn of the early morning, or 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 171 
 
 while the moon casts an uncertain light, the Heron may 
 be seen standing in the shallow water, stiff and motion^ 
 less, and by the faint light may be mistaken for a stump 
 
 COMMON CRANE 
 
 of a tree. But his eye is keenly directed on the water, 
 and no sooner does a fish approach than a dart of his 
 unerring bill secures it, and the Heron soars exultingly 
 to his nest, bearing his prey with him. 
 
 The Bittern. It frequents morasses and dense beds 
 
172 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 of reeds, where it lies concealed until evening, when it 
 leaves its rushy bed and soars to a vast height, continu- 
 ally uttering its sepulchral booming cry. This singular 
 sound is not unlike the bellowing of a bull. 
 
 WHITE SPOONBILL 
 
 The White Spoonbill. The Common Spoonbill is 
 found in Europe, Asia, and Africa, and frequents Hol- 
 land, together with the stork. The strange shape of 
 the tip of its beak has gained it the name of Spoon- 
 bill. 
 
 It has rarely been taken in this country. It feeds on 
 

 
 
 EAST AFFTCAN CRANE. 
 
174 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTOBY 
 
 worms, snails, and water plants, searching for the latter 
 by agitating the water with its broad beak. 
 
 WHITE STORK 
 
 The nest of the White Spoonbill is sometimes placed 
 in trees, and sometimes amid rushes. The length of 
 the bird is not quite three feet. 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 175 
 
 The Stork is extensively found in Europe, Asia, and 
 Africa. In Holland storks are very abundant, and are 
 
 jng ij| ClKi gBj Bg B g 
 
 1 
 
 
 i=iT ^S&2**2&3 
 
 ^^@i-^^^^ffi?fl^^#^^il¥"?^ : 
 
 GREAT WHITE HERON 
 
 encouraged by the Dutch to build in their towns. A 
 kind of false chimney is built by the inhabitants for 
 these birds to make their nests in. 
 
176 wood's natural history 
 
 When the Stork cannot find a building on which to 
 make its nest, it chooses the flat spreading branches of 
 a cedar or pine, and there collects a large mass of sticks 
 and twigs, on which it lays from three to five whitish 
 eggs. When disturbed, the birds make a great clatter- 
 ing with their bills. 
 
 The food of this bird consists of rats, mice, frogs, 
 etc., and it is for the benefit it confers upon man by 
 devouring these vermin that it is so carefully protected 
 and encouraged, especially in the East, where the in- 
 habitants do not trouble themselves by removing car- 
 rion or offal, but leave that office to the vultures, 
 hyenas, and other scavengers of nature. The height of 
 the Stork is nearly four feet. 
 
 The African Adjutant, sometimes called the Mara- 
 bou, has a large pouch on the front of the throat, 
 which perhaps does duty for a crop. The body is 
 large, the neck and head are without feathers, the beak 
 is very large and strong, the legs are of great length. 
 The plumage is rough and untidy, dark on the back, 
 white on the front, while the tail supplies the marabou 
 feathers. The bird walks in a very stately, solemn 
 manner as if every step was measured, and from this 
 habit derives its English military title of Adjutant, 
 while the Germans call it the Senator or the Dresscoat 
 Bird. It is very common in the Soudan, and a similar 
 species is found in India. 
 
 The Sacred Ibis inhabits Egypt, but does not seem 
 to breed there. It is a migratory bird, appearing 
 simultaneously with the vise of the Nile, and departing 
 
AW 
 
 NIGHT HERON AND BOATBILL, 
 
178 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 as the inundation subsides. It is about the size of an 
 ordinary fowl. 
 
 The Curlew is spread over the whole of the Old 
 World, from South Africa to the polar regions. In 
 
 THE SACRED IBIS 
 
 winter it collects in large flocks on the muddy shores 
 of the sea, where its long curved bill can easily pene- 
 trate in search of food. 
 
 The Avocet. The bill in this bird is exactly the 
 reverse of that of the Curlew, the curve being upward 
 
THE ADJUTANT 
 
180 wood's natural history 
 
 instead of downward. The Common Avocet is spread 
 throughout the warmer regions of Europe, and is also 
 found in some parts of Africa. It is very common in 
 Holland. It frequents marshes and the mouths oi 
 rivers. 
 
 The Woodcock frequents dense thickets during the 
 day, but at night it leaves these retreats, and visits the 
 swamps and flooded meadows, where it finds a suffi- 
 ciency of worms and insects. 
 
 The -nest of this bird is a loose mass of grass and 
 leaves, gathered together in some sheltered depression. 
 The eggs are four in number, of a yellowish-brown, 
 blotched with dark brown and gray. 
 
 The Snipe in its habits much resembles the wood- 
 cock. Its flight is very singular, rendering it a difficult 
 mark. 
 
 The Corncrake, or Landrail, is very common in 
 England. During the early part of the summer months 
 its harsh cry may be heard in almost every field, but 
 the bird itself is very seldom seen. 
 
 The Water-hen, or Moor-hen, is very common along 
 the reedy banks of rivers and ponds. It is very widely 
 distributed, being found in almost all parts of the Old 
 World. It swims very gracefully, constantly nodding 
 its head, and dives with great skill and rapidity, par- 
 ticularly when alarmed, in which case it generally dives 
 under some floating herbage. 
 
 The Flamingo is an inhabitant of the warmer parts of 
 Europe, and is common in Asia and the coasts of Africa. 
 The singularly shaped beak of this splendid bird is 
 

 
 IT' »o» 
 
 Black Swan. 
 
182 
 
 wood's natural history 
 
 peculiarly adapted to its long and flexible neck. When 
 the bird wishes to feed, it merely stoops its head into 1 
 the water ; the upper mandible is then lowest, and is ! 
 well fitted to receive the nutritive substances which 
 
 AVOCETS 
 
 are entangled in a filter placed on the edges of the 
 beak. 
 
 The color of its plumage is a deep brilliant scarlet, 
 except the quill feathers, which are black. When a 
 number of these birds stand ranged in a line, according 
 to their custom, they present the appearance of a small 
 and well-drilled body x>i soldiers. 
 
wood's natural history 
 
 183 
 
 The Mute or Tame Swan is a well-known ornament to 
 our lakes and rivers. All are familiar with the graceful 
 
 EUROPEAN FLAMINGO 
 
 deportment of this bird while sailing on the surface of 
 the water. Unfortunately, its progress on land by no 
 
184 wood's natural history 
 
 means corresponds with its aquatic grace, being confined 
 to an awkward waddle. 
 
 The Black Swan is found in Australia. The whole 
 of its plumage is a jetty black, with the exception of the 
 quill feathers, which are white. 
 
 The Mallard, or Wild Duck, is the origin of 
 our domestic bird, and is widely spread over the 
 northern parts of Europe, Asia, and America. In the 
 winter it migrates in countless flocks to the warmer 
 States. 
 
 The Divers are remarkable for their powers of diving. 
 The legs are placed very far behind, and the toes are 
 so arranged as to fold up when returning from the 
 stroke. 
 
 The foot of the Grebes is not webbed like that of 
 most water birds, but each toe is separated and flattened, 
 so as to serve as a separate paddle. 
 
 The Puffin is an excellent diver, plunging fearlessly 
 from a lofty cliff into the sea, and speedily returning 
 with its beak full of fish, usually sprats, which are se- 
 cured by their heads, and lie in a row along the bill 
 of the Puffin, forming a kind of piscatorial fringe. 
 Its enormous and sharp-edged bill renders it a for- 
 midable antagonist to intruders. 
 
 The Cape Penguin is very common at the Cape of 
 Good Hope and the Falkland Islands. From the ex- 
 traordinary sound it produces while on shore, it is 
 called the Jackass Penguin. In diving, its little 
 plumeless wings are used as fins, but on the land as 
 front legs. 
 
Wild Ducks, 
 
186 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 The Stormy Petrel is, under the name of Mother 
 Carey's Chicken, the terror of the sailor, who 
 ways considers the bird as the precursor of a ston 
 
 
 THE GIANT PETREL 
 
 It is the smallest of the web-footed birds. Few 
 storms are violent enough to keep this curious lit- 
 tle bird from wandering over the waves in search 
 of the food that the disturbed water casts to the 
 surface. 
 
wood's natural history 187 
 
 The Wandering Albatross, the largest of the genus, 
 is a well-known bird in the southern seas, following 
 ships for many miles. The flight of this bird is 
 peculiarly majestic. Its extreme length of wing pre- 
 vents it from rising at once from the ground, but when 
 once launched into the air it seems to float and direct 
 its course without effort. 
 
 The Black-backed Gull is a common bird on our 
 coasts. Its nest is composed of grass, rushes, and 
 other materials, and contains three or four eggs, of 
 an olive green marked with very dark brown. Neither 
 the gulls nor the terns dive, but snatch up their prey 
 when at or near the surface. 
 
 The Terns, or Sea Swallows, are possessed of 
 great power and endurance of flight, their long forked 
 tails and pointed wings indicating strength and swift- 
 ness. 
 
 The Common Tern is found in plenty along the 
 southern shores of Europe, in many parts of Asia 
 and Africa. It is frequently seen on the southern 
 shores of England, and in North America. It preys 
 on fish, which it snatches from the surface with un- 
 erring aim, as it skims over the waves with astonishing 
 velocity. 
 
 The Cormorant is exceedingly voracious, and devours 
 an almost incredible amount of fish. It is an ex- 
 cellent diver, and chases the fish actually under the 
 water, seldom if ever returning without having secured 
 its prey. Like the otter, when engaged in chase it 
 occasionally rises to take breath, and then resumes the 
 
188 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 pursuit with renewed vigor. It has the power of perch- 
 ing on trees, an accomplishment which we should hardly 
 suspect a web-footed bird of possessing. 
 
 The Cormorant is easily tamed, and its fishing pro- 
 
 BLACK-HEADED GULL 
 
 
 pensities can be turned to good account. The Chinese, 
 at the present day, employ a kind of Cormorant for 
 that purpose, having previously placed a ring round 
 the bird's neck to prevent it from swallowing the fish. 
 Its length is about three feet. 
 
 The White Pelican inhabits Africa, India, and a 
 
WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 189 
 
 great part of the southeastern portions of Europe. 
 It is a very conspicuous bird, its singular membra- 
 nous pouch offering a distinction perfectly unmistak- 
 able. The pouch, when distended, holds two gallons 
 
 •- 
 
 >s^**St{£ 
 
 COMMON CORMORANT 
 
 of water, but the bird has the. power of contracting it 
 so that it can scarcely be discerned. 
 
 The pouch serves as a net in which to scoop up the 
 fish on which the Pelican feeds. 
 
 Another most important use of the pouch is to con- 
 vey food to the young. The parent Pelican presses 
 
190 
 
 WOOD S NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 the pouch against its breast, in order to enable the 
 young to obtain the fish ; which action, in all proba- 
 
 EUROPEAN PELICAN 
 
 bility, gave rise to the fable of the Pelican feeding 
 its young with its own blood. The red tip of the bill 
 probably aided the deception. 
 
wood's natural history , 191 
 
 Although a web-footed bird, the Pelican, like the 
 cormorant, can perch on trees, although it prefers sit- 
 ting on rocks. Its color is a pure white, with a very 
 slight tinge of rose color, and the pouch is yellow, 
 Its length is nearly six feet.