From Midsummer to Martinmas. A West Cumberland Idyl ... With ... illustrations by the author

Front matter

FROM MIDSUMMER TO MARTINMAS. 1_5aflant£ne &**& BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO- EDINBURGH AND LONDON THE KITCHEN-D0OK. Page 113. FROM Midsummer to Martinmas. 21 Meet CumberlanE. 35bI. BY CUTHBERT RIGBY. WITH THIRTY-THREE ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR GEORGE ALLEN, LONDON AND ORPINGTON. 1891. [AU rights reserved.} Two explanatory Avords of preface may be allowed to a neAv voice straining for a hearing amid the din that assails the English reader's ears ; two words — which like fists raised in self-defence may (unwillingly) seem to strike an attitude of bragging attack. First, of the dialect ; — Something too much of this, friendly critics say ; unfortunately, many of the Cumber land folk knoAv no other tongue, and a faithful historian has no choice ; translation into correct English AA'Ould often mean mere misrepresentation — at best, a loss of flavour as sad as that suffered by fresh fruit in its trans portation from its native bush to the London market.

The conventional spelling has been rejected for another form, which better expresses the actual sound, Avhile differing as little as may be in appearance from ordinary English. Second, of the general aim of the following pages ; — that has been to furnish a simple record of the events related therein. Little attempt has been made to cover sheets and to usurp the reader's function by explaining the motives of the actors. It is only by their words and deeds that men ever reveal themselves ; and their fellows judge them accordingly. What says Yorick — the sober- ) suited, not the wearer of motley ? " If it's a dirty action — without more ado, the man's a dirty fellow." So Ave read men's hearts— each onlooker, it may happen, perusing a different page ; for " the eye sees only what it has a capacity for seeing."

Give us — may not a reader say ? — give us hard facts ; tell us what a man does and how he looks ; let us hear his talk and, if need be, by eavesdropping listen to his self-communing — and we shall need no subtle dissection of his motives to explain his character. And the demand will be a Avise one : for is not the former direct method of telling a story as much better than the latter involved one as Walter Scott is greater than George Eliot, and as the splendour of the throne Avhere Shakespeare sits transcends the state of all other Englishmen ? Kendal, Martinmas day, 1891. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. TOM CHAFFERS'S TURN I II. "IT WAS A LOVER AND HIS LASS". . 13 III. YEW-TREE FARM 22 IV. THE GARDEN-SEAT 3- V. AN ARRIVAL 44 VI. THE PARSONAGE 5& VII. THE GARDEN-STILE 7° VIII. VALEDICTORY ADVICE So IX.

Chapter I. Tom Chaffers's Turn

RAW up, draw up, draw O ho ! O ho-o-h ! " A startling cry, as it pierced the still sultry air ! — a cry which, had it fallen unexpectedly on the ears of any one unused to Cumbrian customs would doubtless have awakened memories of those Avild tales of Indian Avarfare Avhich in our green and growing days we have all read ; for the sound Avas like a Avarwhoop, being uttered in tones of extraordinary fierceness by a man who, though only of medium height and A build, seemed by some means to have become possessed of a voice many sizes too large for him. Instead of paint and feathers, however, he Avore the more comfortable dress of a North-country farmer ; AA'hich calling, if it were his, Avas combined Avith the more important and just now more obvious one of auctioneer. He Avas about to com mence a sale of cottage furniture ; and having loitered about till nearly an hour beyond the advertised time, to alloAv laggards an opportunity of arriving, he noAV plunged with sudden energy into business, startling into instant attention all Avho were Avithin hearing.

"No..-, ladies," he cried, "time's up, so let's mak a beginnin'. Come out here ! " — to a knot of gossips in the kitchen — " here's a man shoutin' on ye ; it's a fine day, an' ah mun hev ye aw in front of me ; for it's my turn now ; ye can finish yer crack 1 Avhen I's deun. Noav our conditions is ready money ; the highest bidder to be the purchaser ; if there's any dispute the lot must be put up again and resold." This latter sentence AA*as spoken in a rapid sing-song tone — that of a school-boy repeating a Avell-learned lesson — it being the formula prescribed for the occasion. The auctioneer continued : " We've a nice lot of good useful articles to sell, an' if you'll bid cheerfully I'll not keep you long. T' first lot's a basket an' contents ; mebbe tAvo dozen bottles of all shaps an' sizes, an' I'll start them at a penny.

A penny ! A penny ! Nobody say tuppence ? Come, t' basket's Avorth more'n that. Anybody say a penny? GiA*e us summat else, Isaac, to mak it intul a pennyworth. Here's a good sound jar ; just the thing to salt a feAv herrin', or a lahl 2 bit o' mutton ; now, Avho'll gi' me threepence for t' lot ? T time's comin' on for puttin' doAvn yer butther, an' jell want aw yer jars. Thank ye, threepence — fourpence — fippence — fippence ? Are ye aAv deun ? Gone to Mrs. Hodgin for fivepence. Here, Isaac, ha'Avay Avith 'em to Mrs. Hodgin ; see, she's gettin' her purse out, so thou'lt get t' brass for 'em. Now ye needn't be hidin' that purse so far down in yer pocket, 1 Talk* - Little. Mrs. Hodgin, for we'll be Avantin' it out agean varra seun. " Here' another good jar ; yan o' t' ahld fashion, Avid a pair o' good lugs 1 to hod by.

A penny for't ! Who'll say tuppence ? " Receiving a nod from a short stout red-faced old AA*oman he AA'ent on : " Tuppence for you, Betty. Ha, ha ! it's a real good an, yan o' t' rare ahldfashioned mak, like me an' you, Betty. I think there's nobbut us tAvo left o' t' ahld lang-eared breed." " An' two on ye's ower many, ah wad say," says a looker-on. " Betty shall hev it for tuppence," says the auctioneer, ignoring the depreciatory remark. " She's a good payer, an' that's a girt 2 matter Avhen AA*e're amang sec big prices. " Now here' a nice lot o' poddish basins — one, two, three, four, five, six on' em — an' I'll start them at sixpence. Sixpence ? Is there nobody in at a penny apiece ? What ! they're just what ye'll be Avantin' seiin, for thear' a lock 3 on ye 'at '11 hev ta sup a gay bit o' poddish yit afore t' bad times is deun AA*id !

Sixpence ? sevenpence ; eightpence for you ; goin' at eightpence ! — Miss Sim, Galesyke — eightpence. " A lot o' drinkin' mugs —threepence for t' lot ; there's five on 'em — an' here' t' lahl an. Ha, ha! just t' ahld woman's size for a drop o' gin at bedtime. Ay, ye may laugh, but don't ye know this is what they ca' Midsummer day, t' tAventy-fourth o' June ? an' let me tell ye 'at t' days'll begin to shorten fast noAA*, an' git cahlder, too ; an' ye'll Avant a drop ta comfort ye. Threepence — fourpence — fippence — sixpence. Ha, ha ! I thowt ye'd knah Avhen ye Avere suitit. Sixpence ! — They're yours, Mrs. Armstrong ; an' I'll come an' hev a drop wid ye, some time when John's out o' t' gate." While these trifles are being disposed of, let us take a look around. A two-storied Avhitewashed house stands sideways to the road ; in front is a small garden mostly laid down in grass, Avith a few evergreens here and there 1 Ears. ' Great. 3 Lot. which seem to have wandered from the narroAv flower-bed that surrounds the grass-plot, and to have hopelessly lost their Avay.

Among them are ranged rows of chairs and forms, occupied by Avomen Avho have gathered together from various distances ; some to supply various household AA-ants Avith the honest service of well-tried pots and pans, and others drawn by the sweet scent of good pennyworths, or the pleasant sound of gossip in the air — for all the neighbours who are like-minded, and love to give or receive neAvs, are here. In front of them, on a bench against the wall, stands the auctioneer, with a round table before him, on Avhich he gives a fair view of the lots as he receives them from a young man to whom they are handed at the door by the cottager and his .vise, AA'ho are running to and fro inside. To the right the auctioneer can see a small group of Avomen standing outside the garden-gate, and can look over their heads towards the barn on the opposite side of the road, buttressing AA'hich, hands in pockets, stand or lean the feAv men Avho are present ; while round about are set the more stolid unaccommodating pieces of furniture Avhich refuse to be hustled about through doorways or lifted up to view on small tables.

But we mustn't pass over the little group at the gate Avith such slight notice, for is not that Esther Whindruth among them — Esther, the best Avoman in all Scardale parish ? Pleasant it is to hear her kind voice and to see her kind face ; the more so that it is not often Ave meet her a .vay from home, unless it be among " badly folk ; " for wherever there is sickness or other trouble, there is she a Avilling and a AA-elcome visitor. She has a remedy to pro pose for every ailment ; usually a simple and often a help ful one : and A\*here it is othenvise and of the nature of a charm — requiring in the sufferer an exercise of faith, and calling forth laughter from the modern unbeliever — still it will do no harm, Avhile her presence is sure to do good. There is Betty Whindruth, too — her daughter ; on whom, be sure, the younger ones among the living buttresses of the barn Avail are bestowing far more attention than on Tom Chaffers, the auctioneer.

Strange though it may seem, however, one dare hardly venture to affirm that she is conscious of their attention. She is looking do .vn the road, fixing brown earnest eyes thoughtfully on the dis tance, Avhere, miles aAvay, a silver line on the horizon indicates the sea, to whose murmur she seems almost to be listening. The sun, shining full in front, stamps in light the firm oval outline of her face, which — But a sudden outburst from the auctioneer makes us all turn tOAvards him again. " Ho ho ! ho ho ! " he shouts, as a large and a small teapot are handed up to him, "here' ahld Betty an' yung Betty ! — Nay, we've aw t' family now" — as a third appears, and he ranges them all in front of him. " Here' t' fadther, mudther, an' dowter. This is t' fadther; he hes a lahl bit o' colour about t' neb on him ; t' girt black an's t' mudther, an' this is t' doAvter, slim an' sma' in t' Avaist.

Noav how much for them ? " These disposed of, he goes on : — " Now here' a pair o' copper scales ; three an' sixpence for them ? See hoAv true they hang ! Noav I durst bet there's nut above hayf a-dozen amang us as honest as them is ; there's nut hoAv iver — an' I know who's yan o' t' hays-dozen ; ye can sattle t' other five amang ye ! Three an' six ! three an' nine — three an' nine ! Come, be quick ! Nay, I'll not wait ; " and down goes the hammer. " I'll take some on ye in, ye'll see, if ye don't bid quicker," he says grimly. A sound of Avheels and horse's feet claims our attention noAv. We look up the road and see a dogcart approach ing, Avhich stops at the garden gate : AA*here a young man Avith a joiner's bag on his shoulder jumps do\\n from the back seat, and a blooming girl alights from beside the driver — awkwardly enough, with the consciousness of eyes watching from the barn wall.

One of the buttresses, however, has stepped forward to help her, and is revealed as a tall, strong young fellow, with a clean-shaven fine featured face ; an Apollo in slouched felt hat, rough loose clothes, and hob-nails. His action, too, reveals some thing godlike in his nature— a sublime indifference to the opinion of the meaner mortals around ; for it is a bold deed he has done, in thus openly offering courteous attentions to the smiling Hebe of the dogcart; but he does it carelessly, and shoAvs no shamefacedness. "A fine day, Noble," she says. "Yes," he ansAvers. " Glad to see you looking so well. You wouldn't look at me this morning, Bell, Avhen I passed the Half-moon." " You were too eaily ; I Avas in clogs and curl-papers," is the plain meaning of the toss of the head Avith AA'hich she dismisses him to his former obscurity in the narroAV ing shadow of the barn wall, while she Avalks round to the other side of the dogcart, Avhere the driver is exchanging greetings Avith the group at the gate.

" And hoAV did you leave the mistress, James ? " asks Mrs. Whindruth ; " I hear she A\*as doing nicely last night." " Why, she's gettin' impident, Eysther," is the reply. "Ay, poor thing ! then she'll mebbe be doAvnstairs to-day ? " " She'd getten hays-way down this mornin', but she AA'as forced to give it up an' turn back. A lang spell she's hed, but she's pickin' up noAv ; an' she's letikin' to seem' you to-day. Hev ye AA'alked doAvn?" "Nay," says Esther, "we drove. He was going to Kirkgeat this afternoon, an' he set Betty an' me doA\-n at t' lane end." The he refers to her husband ; for the Cumberland dales-people usually speak of their matrimonial partners as he and she, without any previous mention of their names, unless indeed they use the time-honoured form of T maisther and /' misthress, or, less often, our folks.

Mrs. Whindruth, however, has in her last sentence laid herself open to a suspicion of "talking finer" than her neighbours, in saying Betty an' me, instead of me an' Betty; for a genuine North-countryman has sufficient egotism (or honesty) to give himself the first place, and says openly, me an' you. "Than we'll mannish finely," says the man in the TOM CHAFFER S'S TURN. 7 dogcart. " Ps aAvay noAv to Jobby Postleth'et's to see if I can light of a lock o' hay " — here, by a playful flick of the whip, he draAvs his horse's attention to the sub ject of his talk, who, from a sleepy AA-ondering at the idle buzzing of men and AA'omen — Avhich comes not near enough to fret or sting — AA'akes to the thought and fancied taste of sweet hay, and tosses his head, impatient of the hot sun. " I hear he's sellin' ; an' as he'll know he's seas to git his brass, Ave sudn't be lang comin' to terrms ; an' I'll happen be back afore t' seal's OA\*er — Tom Chaffers is of a gen'ral AA'ay too full of his breks l to finish his job OAver suddent — an' than I'll drive ye heam.

We shall just full t' dogcart ; there's me an' you an' Miss Betty an' Bell ; I nobbut gev Jacob Slinkirk a lift on t' road ; he'll nut be gahn' back. Than ye can hev a drink o' tea, an' a crack wid t' misthress. " " Mother will, I daresay, Mr. Matterson," ans\A-ers Betty ; " but you'll have to let me go right on home, and I'll come another day to see you all. You know I only came home from Scarborough on Saturday, and father will like me to be about in the evenings, after I've been so long away." " It's reet ; an' I dar say thear'll be a lad or two, as well as your fadther, as'll be glad to see you about agean." Here James Matterson looks towards the barn, where the whole conversation is being overheard. " Now, Tom ! " he shouts, turning to the auctioneer, who is dis playing a blanket which stands at four-and-ninepence, " a penny ! git that blanket knocked off, an' don't keep folk waitin' aw day."

" Five shillin'. It's yours ! " and Tom whirls the blanket deftly over the intervening heads to the dogcart, where its unexpected folds envelop James Matter son's head. " Ha'way an' git t' brass, Isaac, or he'll be drivin' off," says Tom. " He's deun ma this time," says James to the pleased crowd, as he emerges into cool daylight again, and can 1 fokes. breathe sweet air once more ; " but a hap x mear or less is nowt in our house," and cheerfully paying the money, he drives away, while the auctioneer goes on — " Here' another blanket, an' a good heavy an ; I mun hev a betther price for this. Who'll say five shillin' to begin with ? This is t' Avedther to git blankets cheap ; but I see in Old Moore's Almanac that we're gahn' to hev a six-week frost in September, an' than t' Avind'll be in t' east till next May, or mebbe a month or two langer ; an' ye'll Avant aw your haps, Ps awar'nt ye !

Five-an' three — five-an'-six. Goin' at five-an'-six. Gone, to— mun I say you, or your Avife, Mattha' ? " " Nay, it maks nea odds ; t' blanket'll sarra - beath on us," says Mattha' . "Ay, an' t' next barn3 as weel," says Tom, A\ho likes the last word. " Now, here' a patchAvork quilt, an' a real nice pattern, an' a good linin' — it's like me, faced aw round — somebody'll say seven-an'-six ; seven-an'-six ? It's Avorth double t money. Come, ye all knoAv t' vally o' such things. What ! we hed six ahld Avomen in our house every day for a fortneth, piecin' an' quiltin' yan o' t' seam mak ; an' what Avid them an' t' missis an' t' lasses — sec crackin' an' fratchin' — t' house rings AA'id it yit. Seven-an'-six ? — an' I hed t' takkin' of 'em heam at neets — sec a piece of Avark ! — an' t' quilt nut finished efther aAv !

" This being sold, out comes another quilt — a grimy, tattered specimen. "We're gettin' amang our betther things noA\-," remarks the unblushing Tom Chaffers ; " I see what ye've aAv been hangin' back for. Noav only one bid at a time, please ! Come, it's Avorth eighteenpence for an underquilt, or to throw ower a badly coav or horse." And the sale goes briskly on. The invariable bid, unless made by a nod, is a cry of "a penny," which the auctioneer interprets as the customary increase on the last bid, according to a well known if rather elastic scale. He knows every member of his audience, and keeps them in rare good humour » Covering. - Serve. a child by a seasoning of rough jokes and personal allusions, for Avhich, to give them extra piquancy, he reserves the salt of his broadest dialect. The shadow has left the side of the barn, on Avhich the sun is beginning to strike, lighting up its supporters ; among whom the young joiner, Jacob Slinkirk, having left his basket in the house, takes his place.

" Now, Jacob, what fettle ? " asks his nearest neighbour. " Fus'-rate ; how's thysell ? " " Ps fus'-rate. Thou's gitten a job here, hest'a? Wark mun be scarce i' Scardale parish 'at thou's com't aAv t' AA'ay here." " Nay, ah don't knah as ah've owt sa much ta dea answers Jacob. " Wey, man, AA'hat's t' use o' bein' so sly about it? I knah thou's nobbut gahn' ta tak down beds an' cubberts, an' sec like." "Ay, ah darsay they'll be Avantin' a few jobs deun. An' Avhat sec a seal ? " " O fairish ; Tom's i' gay fettle for t' job to-day, but he taks a bit o' time." "What's Noble Hartley here for, ah wonder?" asks Jacob, lowering his tone lest Noble should hear. " Hes he been biddin' ? " If he hasn't been bidding before, he begins noAV — at a lady's work-table of an old fashion, the top of Avhich turns round and shows rows of neat little divisions for holding reels, buttons, or other small articles, Avhile a slide can be pulled out for Avriting on.

It is his for half-a-guinea ; and the auctioneer calls out, " Thou's a mind to be weddit, I see, Noble." " Ay, I mean to be Aveddit — afore I die." Many of the bystanders glance in the direction of the garden gate, Avhere stand Betty Whindruth and Bell Matterson ; and they see the latter turn her handsome rosy face towards Noble Hartley with a saucy smile ; but a few of the more knowing ones please themselves by thinking that the warm tones of Betty's brown cheeks show an added glow. But now a general move is made. The auctioneer descends from his stand and comes into the road, where he is folIoAved by most of his audience, and where the larger articles of furniture are sold. The last lot here is a well-kept specimen of Chippendale Avork, a mahogany secretaire surmounted by a small-paned glassfronted bookcase ; which, after a lively competition (for there are those here who kno.v good Avork) falls to Noble Hartley for five pounds.

Again the auctioneer attacks him Avith — " I suppose Ave may soon Avish tha happiness ? " "Ay, suerly, that can deu me nea hurt." " Weel, I hope thou's chosen weel, Noble ; some nice lahl body, as'll mak tha a good wife, an' mannish for tha." " Ay, I dar say she'll be match to mak a sup o' poddish." " I see thou'll tell nowt," says Tom. " Noaa-, ladies, we'll go inside an' sell t' long clock, t' corner cubbert an' t' bedsteads, an' then finish outside with a feAv odds an' ends ; " and aA\-ay he goes, accompanied by as many as can get into the kitchen. " Thear' many a slip 'twixt cup an' t' lip," mutters Jacob, Avith his eyes on Noble, who has got help to move his purchases into the barn. "Why, Avha's he for?" asks his companion. "Is he for Bell at t' Hayf-meun ? " Receiving no reply, he continues : " He'd light of a lock o' brass wid her, I AA-ad think, an' that's nea bad thing."

" Nay, that wad suit him Aveel anetif, but it's tAvo 'at maks a bargain." " An' isn't he good aneiif for sec as her ? His fadther's a statesman, an' Avhen t' ahld man dees t' farm'll likely be his, for t' other sons is a.v deuin' weel at their oan jobs." " Ay, bit them 'at he fancies mayn't fancy him," says Jacob. '■ What, thou knahs nowt. I darsay. He's a gay fine young fella, an' nut likely to miss t' yan 'at he's set his mind on. But mebbe thee an' him's nut friendly ; he hes a varra maistherful way wid him." " Ah mind nowt about his ways, nut ah ! " is Jacob's reply ; and as the subject of their conversation now takes his old position, they say no more. Fortunately the stability of the barn does not depend on Noble Hartley's support, for he has become uneasy, and continually leans forward to look down the road ; but he sees nothing in motion except the air, which quivers beneath the sun.

And now the auctioneer emerges from his temporary eclipse, Avith his satellites (the writer, the cottager, and his son) and his ring (of bidders), and again mounts his chair. "Now, Isaac, what have Ave left? Here's a lot of books ; let's see what they are : — ' Reverence due both to Church and State, asserted in a sermon preached at the Cathedral Church of St Paul's ; ' here's another — ' The Excellency and Advantages of Religion, a com fortable discourse — ' Ay, ay ! an' these are mear o' t' seam sort. Now who'll start them for me ? Real good stuff. I tell ye yan 'ud be betther off sittin' by t' fire this back-end Avid yan o' these in front o' yan, as groanin' a mile or two ta t' church through six inches o' snah. Nay, an' in t' church yan cannot hev a pipe in yan's mouth, nor a glass set just till yah side on t' teable !

Sixpence ! Sixpence ! " By-and-by comes out an empty picture-frame, Avhich he puts up at a shilling, but bids not being forthcoming, he holds it before his face and makes a grimace through it at his audience. "Ye may laugh," says he, "but ye'll hev ta letik at me a gay bit afore I'll start it at less than a shillin'. A shillin' ! — an' tA\*o — an' tA\*o — an' four. One-an'-four ? It's yours at one-an'-four, Mary." "Nay," says Mary, a smiling, toothless old body; "I wasn't biddin'." "What Avere ye dean', than? I thowt ye gave me a wink," says Tom, Avith serious face. " Ye mustn't wink at me, ye know ; it's business now, Mary ; Avinkin' comes eftherwards." Still Noble Hartley keeps watch down the road, which lies straight and white for half-a-mile or more ; until at last a cloud of dust appears, and he can distinguish a single figure in a dogcart draAvn by a white-faced horse.

James Matterson is returning ; but Noble is evidently not expecting a lift, for he at once turns in the opposite direction and Avalks off. The sale is just reaching its conclusion, for he hears the words — " Come, give me another bid, ladies ; there's a good stiff glass of grog for t' buyer o' t' last lot ; noAv don't all shout at once ! — What ! ye niver tak it, Jane ? Than ye may just hand it ower ta me ; an' I'll knock ye off a cheap lot — ye're t' varra woman I've been laitin'1 ! " — and the laugh that follows is the last Noble hears of the sale. 1 Seeking.

Chapter II

"IT WAS A LOVER AND HIS LASS." FALLING into a long rapid stride Noble walks steadily on for half-an-hour or thereabouts, seeming to be bent on overtaking his shadow, Avhich moves along the dusty road before him. He never slackens his pace, even at the steepest bits of road, till he reaches the top of Stag brow-, and sees beloAV him the Half-moon Inn, a few hundred yards away. Further on, Bleathwaite, a small cluster of dwellings on the southern side of Scar dale valley, lies basking in the warm June air ; the only token of life visible being where, among the shadows of the trees overhanging the farm-house on its outskirts floats a faint blue haze of peat smoke. But in a couple of hours more, hunger and the business of supper will rouse it into energy ; and every cottage chimney will send ■a forth hot breath ; for then the quarrymen will return, who, after working for others all day long, will want to sit or lounge idle and see others, though only their wives and mothers, working for them.

Here and there, if sought for heedfully, a grey purple line may be seen winding among the fields, Avhere the river— Scardale Beck — seems to lie lethargic, its faint breathing reaching the ear intermittently. Beyond all, faint and motionless under a droAvsy sultry haze, the hills sleep ; their height seeming lessened and their ruggedness disappearing in the broad quiet afternoon sunshine — no dream of cloud-shadow disturbing their rest. But there are no signs of sleep in the eyes of Noble Hartley as, turning his back on the hills, he looks keenly sunwards along the glaring road by which he has come ; and yet he is dreaming with all his might — or indeed Avith all his heart ; a wonderful series of dreams ; but we dare not say impossible of fulfilment ; for see ! the first little link in the chain is even now becoming a reality ; there is the dogcart full in sight Avith its quadruple load ; and Noble, turning again, Avalks leisurely down the hill, and is overtaken exactly at the right spot, just where James Matterson begins to draw rein near his OAvn door — that of the Half-moon Inn.

The inn stands Avhere four roads meet ; a AA'hitewashed house Avith faun buildings behind, looking like any other farm-house in the neighbourhood except for the sign board over the door. Noble proves useful in helping the women down, and then leading the horse and convey ance into the yard, Avhere he leaves them in charge of a boy, and returns to the door. " Noble's just here in time to Avalk heam wid ye, Betty," says James ; whereat Bell smiles mischievously, as having knowledge of the wheels, springs, and secret workings whereby such accidental meetings reach their due striking-point. " But if ye'll beath come in," the innkeeper continues, " an' sit a bit, an' hev a mouthful ta eat an' sup, ye needn't miss yer walk." " I'd rather get home now, thank you," answers Betty ; "IT WAS A LOVER AND HIS LASS." 15 "but I'll come again soon— may-be Wednesday.