Evening at Home 65

Evening at Home 65

“I was now again a ruined man, and, what was worse, I had three partners

in my ruin. My wife and I looked at one another, and then at our little

ones, and wept. Neither of us had a word of comfort to say. At last,

thought I, this country is not Morocco, however. Here are good souls

that will pity our case, and perhaps relieve us. Then I have a

character, and a pair of hands. Things are bad but they might have been

worse. I took my wife by the hand, and knelt down. She did the same. I

thanked God for his mercy in saving our lives, and prayed that he would

continue to protect us. We rose up with lightened hearts, and were able

to talk calmly about our condition. It was my desire to return to my

former master, the nurseryman; but how to convey my family so far

without money was the difficulty. Indeed I was much worse than nothing,

for I owed a good deal to my landlord. He came down upon the news of the

misfortune, and though his own losses were heavy, he not only forgave my

debt and released me from all obligations, but made me a small present.

Some charitable neighbours did the like; but I was most of all affected

by the kindness of our late maid-servant, who insisted upon our

accepting of a crown which she had saved out of her wages. Poor soul! we

had always treated her like one of ourselves, and she felt for us like

one.

 

“As soon as we had got some necessaries, and the weather was tolerable,

we set out on our long march. My wife carried her infant in her arms. I

took the bigger child on my back, and a bundle of clothes in my hand. We

could walk but a few miles a day, but we now and then got a lift in an

empty wagon or cart, which was a great help to us. One day we met with a

farmer returning with his team from market, who let me ride, and entered

into conversation with me. I told him of my adventures, by which he

seemed much interested; and learning that I was skilled in managing

trees, he acquainted me that a nobleman in his neighbourhood was making

great plantations, and would very likely be glad to engage me; and he

offered to carry us to the place. As all I was seeking was a living by

my labour, I thought the sooner I got it the better; so I thankfully

accepted his offer. He took us to the nobleman’s steward, and made known

our case. The steward wrote to my old master for a character; and

receiving a favourable one, he hired me as a principal manager of a new

plantation, and settled me and my family in a snug cottage near it. He

advanced us somewhat for furniture and present subsistence, and we had

once more a _home_. O sir! how many blessings are contained in that word

to those who have known the want of it!

 

“I entered upon my new employment with as much satisfaction as if I was

taking possession of an estate. My wife had enough to do in taking care

of the house and children; so it lay with me to provide for all, and I

may say that I was not idle. Besides my weekly pay from the steward, I

contrived to make a little money at leisure times by pruning and

dressing gentlemen’s fruit-trees. I was allowed a piece of waste ground

behind the house for a garden, and I spent a good deal of labour in

bringing it into order. My old master sent me down for a present some

choice young trees and flower-roots, which I planted, and they throve

wonderfully. Things went on almost as well as I could desire. The

situation being dry and healthy, my wife recovered her lost bloom, and

the children sprung up like my plants. I began to hope that I was almost

out of the reach of further misfortune; but it was not so ordered.

 

“I had been three years in this situation, and increased my family with

another child, when my lord died. He was succeeded by a very dissipated

young man, deep in debt, who presently put a stop to the planting and

improving of the estate, and sent orders to turn off all the workmen.

This was a great blow to me; however, I still hoped to be allowed to

keep my little house and garden, and I thought I could then maintain

myself as a nurseryman and gardener. But a new steward was sent down,

with directions to rack the tenants to the utmost. He asked me as much

rent for the place as if I had found the garden ready made to my hands;

and when I told him it was impossible for me to pay it, he gave me

notice to quit immediately. He would neither suffer me to take away my

trees and plants, nor allow me anything for them. His view, I found, was

to put in a favourite of his own, and set him up at my expense. I

remonstrated against this cruel injustice, but could obtain nothing but

hard words. As I saw it would be the ruin of me to be turned out in that

manner, I determined, rather hastily, to go up to London, and plead my

cause with my new lord. I took a sorrowful leave of my family, and

walking to the next market-town, I got a place on the outside of the

stage-coach. When we were within thirty or forty miles of London, the

coachman overturned the carriage, and I pitched directly on my head, and

was taken up senseless. Nobody knew anything about me; so I was carried

to the next village, where the overseer had me taken to the parish

workhouse. Here I lay a fortnight, much neglected, before I came to my

senses. As soon as I became sensible of my condition, I was almost

distracted in thinking of the distress of my poor wife, who was near

lying-in, must be under on my account, not hearing anything of me. I lay

another fortnight before I was fit to travel, for besides the hurt on my

head, I had a broken collarbone, and several bruises.

 

“My money had somehow all got out of my pocket, and I had no other means

of getting away than by being passed to my own parish. I returned in sad

plight, indeed, and found my wife very ill in bed. My children were

crying about her, and almost starving. We should now have been quite

lost, had I not raised a little money by selling our furniture; for I

was yet unable to work. As soon as my wife was somewhat recovered, we

were forced to quit our house. I cried like a child on leaving my

blooming garden and flourishing plantations, and was almost tempted to

demolish them, rather than that another should unjustly reap the fruit

of my labours. But I checked myself and I am glad that I did. We took

lodgings in a neighbouring village, and I went round among the gentlemen

of the country to see if I could get a little employment. In the

meantime, the former steward came down to settle accounts with his

successor, and was much concerned to find me in such a situation. He was

a very able and honest man, and had been engaged by another nobleman to

superintend a large improvable estate, in a distant part of the kingdom.

He told me, if I would try my fortune with him once more he would

endeavour to procure me a new settlement. I had nothing to lose, and,

therefore, was willing enough to run any hazard, but I was destitute of

means to convey my family to such a distance. My good friend, who was

much provoked at the injustice of the new steward, said so much to him,

that he brought him to make me an allowance for my garden; and with that

I was enabled to make another removal. It was to the place I now

inhabit.

 

“When I came here, sir, all this farm was a naked common like that you

crossed in coming. My lord got an enclosure-bill for his part of it, and

the steward divided it into different farms, and let it on improving

leases to several tenants. A dreary spot to be sure it looked at first,

enough to sink a man’s heart to sit down upon it. I had a little

unfinished cottage given me to live in; and as I had nothing to stock a

farm, I was for some years employed as head labourer and planter about

the new enclosures. By very hard working and saving, together with a

little help, I was at length enabled to take a small part of the ground

I now occupy. I had various discouragements, from bad seasons and other

accidents. One year the distemper carried off four out of seven cows

that I kept; another year I lost two of my best horses. A high wind once

almost entirely destroyed an orchard I had just planted, and blew down

my biggest barn. But I was too much used to misfortunes to be easily

disheartened, and my way always was to set about repairing them in the

best manner I could, and leave the rest to Heaven. This method seems to

have answered at last. I have now gone on many years in a course of

continued prosperity, adding field to field, increasing my stock, and

bringing up a numerous family with credit. My dear wife, who was my

faithful partner through so much distress, continues to share my

prosperous state; and few couples in the kingdom, I believe, have more

cause to be thankful for their lot. This, sir, is my history. You see it

contains nothing very extraordinary; but if it impresses on the mind of

this young gentleman the maxim that patience and perseverance will

scarcely fail of a good issue in the end, the time you have spent in

listening to it will not entirely be lost.”

 

Mr. Carleton thanked the good farmer very heartily for the amusement and

instruction he had afforded them, and took leave with many __EXPRESSION__s

of regard. Theodore and he walked home, talking by the way of what they

had heard.

 

Next morning, Mr. C. looking out of the window, saw Theodore hard at

work in his garden. He was carefully disinterring his buried flowers,

trimming and cleaning them, and planting them anew. He had got the

gardener to cut a slip of the broken rose-tree, and set it in the middle

to give it a chance of growing. By noon everything was laid smooth and

neat, and the bed was well filled. All its splendour, indeed, was gone

for the present, but it seemed in a hopeful way to revive again.

Theodore looked with pleasure over his work; but his father felt more

pleasure in witnessing the first-fruits of Farmer Hardman’s story.

 

 

 

 

THE GOLDFINCH AND LINNET.

 

 

A gaudy goldfinch, pert and gay,

Hopping blythe from spray to spray,

Full of frolic, full of spring,

With head well plumed and burnished wing,

Spied a sober linnet-hen,

Sitting all alone,

And bowed and chirped, and bowed again;

And with familiar tone

He thus the dame addressed

As to her side he closely pressed:—

 

“I hope, my dear, I don’t intrude,

By breaking on your solitude?

But it has always been my passion

To forward pleasant conversation;

And I should be a stupid bird

To pass the fair without a word;

I, who have been for ever noted

To be the sex’s most devoted.

Besides, a damsel unattended,

Left unnoticed and unfriended,

Appears (excuse me) so forlorn,

That I can scarce suppose,