Page:What will he do with it.djvu/652

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page needs to be proofread.


has come to that ! The Heavens are just, Sir, and of our pleas- ant vices. Sir, make instruments that — that — "

" Scourge us," prompted the Hag, severely.

Losely rang the bell , the maid-servant appeared, " My horse and bill. Well, Mr, Rugge, I must quit your agreeable society, I am not overflowing with wealth at this moment, or I would request your acceptance of — "

"The smallest trifle," interrupted the Hag, with her habitual solemnity of aspect,

Losely, who, in his small way, had all the liberality of a Cat- iline — alieni appdens, siii profusus — drew forth the few silver coins yet remaining to him ; and though he must have calculated that, after paying his bill, there could scarcely be three shillings left, he chucked two of them toward the Hag, who, clutching them with a profound courtesy, then handed them to the fallen monarch by her side, with a loyal tear and a quick sob that might have touched the most cynical republican.

In a few minutes more Losely was again on horseback ; and as he rode toward Ouzelford, Rugge and his dusty Faithful shambled on in the opposite direction — shambled on, foot-sore and limping, along the wide, waste, wintry thoroughfare — van- ished from the eye, as their fates henceforth from this story. There they go by the white hard mile-stone ; farther on, by the trunk of the hedge-row tree, which lies lopped and leafless — ■ cumbering the wayside, till the time come to cast it off to the thronged, dull stackyard ; farther yet, where the ditch widens into yon stagnant pool, with the great dung-heap by its side. There the road turns aslant ; the dung-heap hides them. Gone ! and not a speck on the Immemorial, Universal Thoroughfare.


No wind so cutting as that which sets in the quarter from which the sun rises.

The town to which I lend the disguising name of Ouzelford, which in years bygone was represented by Guy Darrell, and which in years to come may preserv^e in its municipal hall his effigies in canvas or stone, is one of the handsomest in England. As you approach its suburbs from the London Road, it rises clear and wide upon your eye, crowning the elevated table-land upon which it is built ; a noble range of prospect on either side, rich with hedge-rows not yet sacrificed to the stern demands of

�� �