TH^. 
 
 mmti'' ■ ' ^j» 
 
 f&'/i 
 
 W' 
 
 w. 
 
 , , 
 
 
 
 BY' 
 
 CHARLES DICKENS 
 
JAMESG.COMMIN. 
 
 Bookseller. 
 230.H.gh Street, EXETER. 
 
 / 
 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 BEQUEST 
 
 OF 
 
 ANITA D. S. BLAKE 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2008 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cricketonhearthfOOdickrich 
 
THE 
 
 CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 

Bradbury & Evans. 90, Fleet Screet, & Whitefriars. 
 1&46. 
 
THE 
 
 CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 FAIRY TALE OF HOME. 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES DICKENS, 
 
 ELEVENTH EDITION. 
 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR^ 
 
 BY BRADBURY AND EVANS, 90, FLEET STREET, 
 AND WHITE FRIARS. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 BKADBURY A.\n >.VA!NS, PRIXTKIU, V, K ITK HUAKS. 
 
LORD JEFFREY 
 
 THIS LITTLE STORY IS INSCRIBED, 
 
 THE AFFECTION AND ATTACHMENT OF HIS FRIEND, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 JDecember, 1S45. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 Title .... 
 
 Chirp the First 
 
 The Carrier's Cart 
 
 John's Arrival 
 
 John and Dot 
 
 Chirp the Second 
 
 Caleb at Work 
 
 Boxer .... 
 
 Tilly Slowboy 
 
 Mrs. Fielding's Lecture 
 
 Chirp the Third . 
 
 John's Reverie 
 
 The Dance 
 
 Engraver. 
 Thompson. 
 
 G. Dalziel. 
 
 G. Dalziel. 
 
 T. Williams. 
 
 E, Dalziel. 
 
 Swain. 
 
 E. Dalziel. 
 
 G. Dalziel. 
 
 T. Williams. 
 
 Groves. 
 
 E. Dalziel. 
 
 T. Williams. 
 
 Groves. 
 
 Swain. 
 
 Artist. 
 D. Maclise, R.A 
 
 D. Maclise, R.A. 
 
 R. DOYLK. 
 
 C. SlANFIKLD, R.A. 
 
 J. Leech, 
 J. Leech. 
 R. Doyle. 
 J. Leech. 
 
 E. Landsekr, R.A. 
 J. Leech. 
 
 J. Leech. 
 R. Doyle, 
 J. Leech. 
 J. Leech. 
 
2 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 Mrs. 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 Kettle 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 
 convulsive little Haymaker at the top of it, jerking 
 away right and left with a scythe in front of a 
 Moorish Palace, 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 opinion of Mrs. Peerybingle, unless I were quite 
 sure, on any account whatever. Nothing should induce 
 me. But this is a question of fact. And the fact 
 is, that the Kettle began it, at least ^ve minutes 
 before the Cricket gave any sign of being in exist- 
 ence. Contradict me : and I '11 say ten. 
 
 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 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 6 
 
 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, or 
 trial of skill, you must understand, between the 
 Kettle and the Cricket. And this is what led to it, 
 and how it came about, 
 
 Mrs. Peerybingle going out into the raw twilight, 
 and clicking over the wet stones in a pair of pattens 
 that worked innumerable rough impressions of the 
 first proposition in Euclid all about the yard — Mrs. 
 Peerybingle filled the Kettle at the water butt. 
 Presently returning, less the pattens : and a good 
 deal less, for they were tall and Mrs. Peerybingle 
 was but short : she set the Kettle on the fire. In 
 doing which she lost her temper, or mislaid it for an 
 instant ; for the water — being uncomfortably cold, and 
 in that slippy, slushy, sleety sort of state wherein it 
 seems to penetrate through every kind of substance, 
 patten rings included — had laid hold of Mrs. Peery- 
 bingle's toes, and even splashed her legs. And 
 when we rather plume ourselves (with reason too) 
 upon our legs, and keep ourselves particularly neat 
 B 2 
 
4 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 in point of stockings, we find this, for the moment, 
 hard to bear. 
 
 Besides, the Kettle was aggravating and 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 quarrelsome ; and hissed and 
 spluttered morosely at the fire. To sum up aU, the 
 lid, resisting Mrs. Peerybingle's fingers, first of all 
 turned topsy-turvy, and then, with an ingenious per- 
 tinacity deserving of a better cause, dived sideways 
 in — down to the very bottom of the Kettle. And the 
 hull of the Royal George has never made half the 
 monstrous 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 bpil. Nothing 
 shall induce me ! " 
 
 But Mrs. Peerybingle, with restored good humour, 
 
CHIRP THE FIllST. 5 
 
 dusted her chubby little hands against each other, 
 and sat down before the Kettle: laughing. Mean- 
 time, the jolly blaze uprose and fell, flashing and 
 gleaming on the httle Haymaker at the top of the 
 Dutch clock, imtil one might have thought he stood 
 stock still before the Moorish 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 
 sufferings 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. 
 
 It was not until a violent commotion and a whir- 
 ring noise among the weights and ropes below hirW 
 had quite subsided, that this terrified Haymaker be- 
 came himself again. Nor was he startled without 
 reason ; for these rattling, bony skeletons of clocks are 
 very disconcerting in their operation, and I wonder 
 very much how any set of men, but most of all how 
 Dutchmen, can have had a liking to invent them. 
 For there is a popular belief that Dutchmen love 
 
6 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 broad cases and much clothing for their own lower 
 selves ; and they might know better than to leaye 
 their clocks so very lank and unprotected, surely. 
 
 Now it was, you observe, that the Kettle began to 
 spend the evening. Now it was, that the Kettle, 
 growing mellow and musical, began to have irrepres- 
 sible 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 com- 
 pany. 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 hilarious, as never maudhn nightin- 
 gale yet formed the least idea, of. 
 
 So plain, too ! Bless you, you might have under- 
 stood it like a book — better than some books you and 
 I could name, perhaps. With its warm breath gush- 
 ing forth in a light cloud which merrily and gracefully 
 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 Hd — such is the 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 7 
 
 influence of a bright example — 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 invi- 
 tation and welcome to somebody out of doors ; to 
 somebody at that moment coming on, towards 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 there 's only one 
 relief in all the sad and murky air ; and I don't know 
 that it is one, for it 's nothing but a glare, of deep 
 and angry crimson, where the sun and wind together, 
 set a brand upon the clouds for being guilty of such 
 weather ; 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 ! 
 
 And here, if you like, the Cricket did chime in ! 
 
8 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 with a Chirrup, Chirrup, Chirrup of such magnitude, 
 by way of chorus ; with a voice, so astoundingly dis- 
 proportionate to its size, as compared with the Ket- 
 tle ; (size ! you couldn't See it !) 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, for which it had 
 expressly laboured. 
 
 The Kettle had had the last of its solo performance. 
 It persevered with undiminished ardour ; but the 
 Cricket took first fiddle and kept it. Good Heaven, 
 how it chirped! Its shriU, sharp, piercing voice 
 resounded through the house, and seemed to twinkle 
 in the outer darkness like a Star. There was an 
 indescribable 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 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 9 
 
 — though something of what is called the dumpling 
 shape ; but I don't myself object to that — 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 my opinion is (and so 
 would your's have been), that 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. The Kettle's 
 weak side clearly being that he didn't know when he 
 was beat. 
 
 There was all the excitement of a race about it. 
 Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket a mile ahead. Hum, 
 hum, hima — 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 I Cricket going in 
 
10 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 to finish him. Hum, hmn, hmn — m — m ! Kettle 
 not to be finished. Until at last, they got so jum- 
 bled together, in the hurry-skurry, helter-skelter, of 
 the match, 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 your s or mine 
 to have decided with anything Hke certainty. But of 
 this, there is no doubt : that the Kettle and the 
 Cricket, at one and the same moment, and by some 
 power of amalgamation best known to themselves, 
 sent, each, his fireside song of comfort streaming into 
 a ray of the candle that shone out through the win- 
 dow ; and a long way down the lane. And this light, 
 bursting on a certain person who, on the instant, 
 approached towards it through the gloom, expressed 
 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. Peery- 
 bingle then went running to the door, where, what 
 with the wheels of a cart, the tramp of a horse, the 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 
 
 voice of a man, the 
 tearing in and out 
 of an excited dog, 
 and the surprising and 
 mysterious appear- 
 ance 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, / don't know. But a 
 live Baby there was, in Mrs. Peerybingle's arms ; and 
 
12 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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. But she was worth the trouble. Six foot 
 six, with the lumbago, might have done it. 
 
 ** 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 
 like candied thaw ; 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 it," said Mrs. Peerybingle : pouting in a way 
 that clearly showed she did like it, very much. 
 
 ** Why what else are you ? " returned John, look- 
 ing 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 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 13 
 
 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 ! 
 Oh Mother Nature, give thy children the true Poetry 
 of Heart that hid itself in this poor Carrier's breast 
 — he was but a Carrier by the way — and we can bear 
 to have them talking Prose, and leading lives of 
 Prose ; and bear to bless Thee for their company ! 
 
 It was pleasant to see Dot, with her little figure 
 and her Baby in her arms : a very doll of a Baby : 
 glancing with a coquettish thoughtfulness at the fire, 
 and inclining 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, 
 endeavouring to adapt his rude support to her slight 
 need, and make his burly middle-age a leaning-stafi* 
 
14 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 not inappropriate to her blooming youth. It was 
 pleasant to observe how Tilly Slowboy, waiting in the 
 background for the Baby, took special cognizance 
 (though in her earliest teens) of this grouping ; and 
 stood with her mouth and eyes wide open, and her 
 head thrust forward, taking it in as if it were air. 
 Nor was it less agreeable to observe how John the 
 Carrier, reference being made by Dot to the afore- 
 said 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 dis- 
 tance, with a kind of puzzled pride : such as an 
 amiable mastiff might be supposed 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 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 15 
 
 way! " said the astonished Carrier, "is it? See 
 how he 's winking with hoth of 'em at once ! and 
 look at his mouth ! why he 's gasping Hke a gold and 
 silver fish ! " 
 
 ** You don't deserve to he a father, you don't," 
 said Dot, with all the dignity of an experienced 
 matron. ** But how should you know what httle 
 complaints children are troubled with, John ! You 
 wouldn't so much as know their names, you stupid 
 fellow." And when she had turned the Baby over 
 on her left arm, and had slapped its back as a resto- 
 rative, she pinched her husband's ear, laughing. 
 
 ** No," said John, pulling off his outer coat. ** It 's 
 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 north-east, 
 straight into the cart, the whole way home." 
 
 "Poor old man, so it has!" cried Mrs. Peery- 
 bingle, instantly becoming very active. ** Here ! 
 Take the precious darling, TiUy, 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 ; 
 
16 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 and then I '11 help you with the parcels, like a busy 
 bee. * fiow 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 ; who 
 was fatter than you would quite believe, if I gave you 
 his measure, and so old that his birthday was lost 
 in the mists of antiquity. Boxer, feeling that his 
 attentions were due to the family in general, and 
 must be impartially distributed, dashed in and out 
 with bewildering inconstancy : now describing a circle 
 of short barks round the horse, where he was being 
 rubbed down at the stable-door ; now feigning to 
 make savage rushes at his mistress, and facetiously 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 17 
 
 : • ,, bringing himself to sudden 
 
 ",,u^,' .'A' *j>^\.* '" , stops ; now eliciting 
 
 ''^'^■^^^l4^^^S^i//\"i '' i a shriek from Tilly 
 
 
 Slowboy, in the 
 
 near the fire, by 
 
 J^ the unexpected 
 
 ' application of his 
 
18 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 moist nose to her countenance ; now exhibiting an 
 obtrusive interest in the Baby ; now going round and 
 round upon the hearth, and lying down as if he had 
 estabUshedhimself for the night ; now getting up again, 
 and taking that nothing of a fag-end of a tail of his, 
 out into the weather, as if he had just remembered 
 an appointment, and was off, at a round trot, to keep it. 
 
 ** There ! There 's the teapot, ready on the hob ! " 
 said Dot ; as briskly busy as a child at play at keep- 
 ing house. " 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 
 rejecting 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 peculiarly her own. She 
 was of a spare and straight shape, this young lady, 
 insomuch that her garments appeared to be in con- 
 stant danger of sHding off those sharp pegs, her 
 
CHIRP THE FIKST. 19 
 
 shoulders, on which they were loosely hung. Her 
 costume was remarkahle for the partial development 
 on all possible occasions of some flannel vestment of 
 a singular structure ; also for affording glimpses, in 
 the region of the back, of a corset, or pair of stays, 
 in colour a dead-green. Being always in a state of ga- 
 ping admiration at everything, and absorbed, besides, 
 in the perpetual contemplation of her mistress's per- 
 fections and the Baby's, Miss Slowboy, in her little 
 errors of judgment, may be said to have done equal 
 honour to her head and to her heart ; and though 
 these did less honour 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 astonishment at 
 finding herself so kindly treated, and installed 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 Foundling; which 
 word, though only difibring from Fondling by one 
 vowel's length, is very different in meaning, and 
 expresses quite another thing, 
 c 2 
 
20 THE CRICKET ON TIIE HEARTH, 
 
 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 recol- 
 lect, John ?'* 
 
 Oh yes. John remembered. I should think so ! 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 21 
 
 ** 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 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 content to take them as they were. And 
 really he had reason. They were very comely. 
 
 *' It spoke the truth, John, when it seemed to say 
 so : for you have ever been, I am sure, the best, the 
 most considerate, the most affectionate of husbands 
 to me. 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. 
 Sometimes, in the twilight, when I have felt a little 
 solitary and down-hearted, John — ^before Baby was 
 here, to keep me company and make the house 
 
22 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 gay ; when I have thought how lonely you would he 
 if I should die ; how lonely I should he, if I could 
 know that you had lost me, dear ; its Chirp, Chirp, 
 Chirp upon the hearth, has seemed to tell me of 
 another little voice, so sweet, so very dear to me, 
 before whose coming sound, my trouble vanished like 
 a dream. 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 hus- 
 band : 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, Chii'p, has 
 cheered me up again, and filled me with new trust 
 and confidence. 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 ! " 
 
 She laid her hand, an instant, on his arm, and 
 looked up at him with an agitated face, as if she 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 23 
 
 would have told him something. Next moment, she 
 was down upon her knees before the basket ; speak- 
 ing 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 
 hundredweights ! " cried Dot, making a great 
 demonstration of trying to lift it. " Whose is it, 
 John ? Where is it going ? " 
 
24 THE CRICKET QN THE HEARTH. 
 
 ** Read 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 floor and shaking her head at him, **that it's 
 Gruff and Tackleton the toy maker ! " 
 
 John nodded. 
 
 Mrs. Peeryhingle nodded also, fifty times at least. 
 Not in assent : in dumb and pitying amazement ; 
 screwing up her lips, the while, with all their little 
 force (they were never made for screwing up ; I am 
 clear of that), and looking the good Carrier through 
 and through, in her abstraction. Miss Slowboy, in 
 the mean time, who had a mechanical 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, enquired aloud of that young creature, Was 
 it Gruffs 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. 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 25 
 
 ** Why, she and I were girls at school together, 
 John." 
 
 He might have been thinking of her : or nearly 
 thinking of her, perhaps : as she was in that same 
 school time. He looked upon her with a thoughtful 
 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- 
 humouredly, 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." 
 
 Even this ; his usual sentiment at meal times ; one 
 of his innocent delusions (for his appetite was always 
 obstinate, and flatly contradicted him) ; 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, though her eyes 
 were cast down too, upon the dainty shoe she generally 
 was so mindful of. Absorbed in thought, she stood 
 
26 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 there, heedless alike of the tea and John (although he 
 called to her, and rapped the tahle 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 negli- 
 gence. 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. Nothing like it. 
 
 ** So, these are all the parcels, are they, John? " 
 she said : breaking a long silence, which the honest 
 Carrier had devoted to the practical illustration of one 
 part of his favourite sentiment — certainly enjoying 
 what he ate, if it couldn't be admitted that he ate 
 but little. ** So these are all the parcels ; are they, 
 John ? '' 
 
 ** 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 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 27 
 
 he went out of my head again. Halloa ! Yahip there ! 
 rouse up ! That 's my hearty ! " 
 
 John said these latter words, outside the door, 
 whither he had hurried with the candle in his hand. 
 
 Miss Slowhoy, conscious of some mysterious refer- 
 ence to The Old Gentleman, and connecting in her mys- 
 tified imagination certain associations of a religious 
 nature with the phrase, was so disturbed, that hastily 
 rising from the low chair by the fire to seek protection 
 near the skirts of her mistress, and coming into contact 
 as she crossed the doorway with an ancient Stranger, 
 she instinctively made a charge or butt at him with 
 the only ofi'ensive instrument within her reach. This 
 instrument happening to be the Baby, great commo- 
 tion 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 imdeniable good sleeper. Sir,'* 
 
28 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 said John when tranquillity was restored ; in the 
 mean time the old gentleman had stood, bare-headed 
 and motionless, in the centre of the room ; " that I 
 have half a mind to 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 inchning 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 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 road- 
 side ! upright as a milestone. And almost as deaf." 
 
 ** Sitting in the open air, John ! " 
 
 **In the open air," replied the Carrier, "just at 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 29 
 
 dusk. * 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 he 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 hook from another ; and 
 leisurely hegan to read. Making no more of Boxer 
 than if he had heen a house lamh ! 
 
 The Carrier and his wife exchanged a look of per- 
 plexity. 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 
 interrupted himself, to say : 
 
 ** Baby, yours? " • 
 
so THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 John gave him a gigantic nod ; equivalent to an 
 answer in the afiirmative, delivered through a speak- 
 ing-trumpet. 
 
 " 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 ago-o ! Took very fine-ly ! Considered, by 
 the doctor, a remarkably beautiful chi-ild ! Equal to 
 the general run of children at ^ve 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 ; 
 while Tilly Slowboy, with a melodious cry of Ketcher, 
 Ketcher — which sounded like some unknown words, 
 adapted to a popular Sneeze — performed some cow- 
 like gambols round that all unconscious Innocent. 
 
 ** Hark ! He 's called for, sure enough, ' ' said John. 
 ** There 's somebody at the door. Open it, Tilly." 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 31 
 
 Before she could reach it, however, it was opened 
 from without ; heing a primitive sort of door, with a 
 latch, that any one could lift if he chose — and a good 
 many people did choose, I can tell you ; for all kinds 
 of neighhours liked to have a cheerful word or two 
 with the Carrier, though he was no great talker for 
 the matter of that. 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 ; for when he 
 turned to shut the door, and keep the weather out, 
 he disclosed upon the back of that garment, the in- 
 scription G <fc 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. 
 
32 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 He didn't look at her though ; for he had a 
 wandering and thoughtful eye which seemed to be 
 always projecting 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 
 distraught air of a man who was casting about for 
 the Philosopher's stone, at least. ** Pretty much so. 
 There's rather a run on Xoah'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 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 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 33 
 
 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. ** Very dear at 
 this season." 
 
 " Never mind that. It would be cheap to me, 
 whatever it cost," returned the little man. "Any- 
 thing else, John? " 
 
 ** A small box," replied the Carrier. ** Here you 
 are I 
 
 ** * For Caleb Plummer/ " said the little man, spell- 
 ing 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 ? " 
 
 **0h! To be sure!" said Caleb. "It's aU 
 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. / know, of course. * Caleb Plummer. With 
 care.' Yes, yes, it 's all right. It 's a box of dolls' 
 
 D 
 
84 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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 ; and them a staring at her, so bold, all day 
 long ! That 's where it cuts. What 's the damage, 
 John?" 
 
 " I *11 damage you," said John, "if you inquire. 
 Dot! Very near?" 
 
 " 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 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 86 
 
 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 bye. — 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 I " 
 
 *' 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 convenient season, shouldered the 
 round box, and took a hurried leave. He might 
 have spared himself the trouble, for he met the 
 visitor upon the threshold. 
 
 *' Oh I You are here, are you ? Wait a bit. I '11 
 take you home. John Peerybingle, my service to 
 you. More of my service to your pretty wife. Hand- 
 somer every day ! Better too, if possible ! And 
 D 2 
 
SH THE CRICKET ON THE HEAKTH. 
 
 younger," mused the speaker, in a low voice ; 
 ** that 's the Devil of it." 
 
 "I should he astonished at your paying compli- 
 ments, Mr. Tackleton," said Dot, not with the best 
 grace in the world ; *' hut 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 as Gruj9P and Tackleton — for that was the firm, 
 though Gruff had been bought out long ago ; only 
 leaving his name, and as some said his nature, ac- 
 cording to its Dictionary meaning, in the business — 
 Tackleton the Toy merchant, was a man whose voca- 
 tion had been quite misunderstood by his Parents 
 and Guardians. If they had made him a Money- 
 Lender, or a sharp Attorney, or a Sheriff's Officer, 
 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 
 
CHraP THE FIRST. 37 
 
 and novelty. 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 implacable enemy. He despised all 
 toys ; wouldn't have bought one for the world ; de- 
 lighted, in his malice, to insinuate grim expressions 
 into the faces of brown-paper farmers who drove 
 pigs to market, bellmen who advertised lost lawyers' 
 consciences, moveable old ladies who darned stockings 
 or carved pies ; and other like samples of his stock 
 in trade. In appalling masks ; hideous, hairy, red- 
 eyed Jacks in Boxes ; Vampire Kites ; demoniacal 
 Tumblers who wouldn't lie down, and were perpetually 
 flying forward, to stare infants out of countenance ; 
 his soul perfectly reveDed. They were his only 
 relief, and safety-valve. He was great in such in- 
 ventions. Anything suggestive of a Pony-nightmare, 
 was delicious to him. He had even lost money (and 
 he took to that toy very kindly) by getting up GobHn 
 slides for magic lanterns, whereon the Powers of 
 Darkness were depicted as a sort of supernatural 
 shell-fish, with human faces. In intensifying the por- 
 traiture of Giants, he had sunk quite a little capital ; 
 
38 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 and, though no painter himself, he could indicate, for 
 the instruction of his artists, with a piece of chalk, 
 a certain furtive leer for the countenances of those 
 monsters, that was safe to destroy the peace of mind 
 of any young gentleman hetween the ages of six 
 and eleven, for the whole Christmas or Midsummer 
 Vacation. 
 
 What he was in toys, he was (as most men are) 
 in all other things. You may easily suppose, there- 
 fore, that within the great green cape, which 
 reached down to the calves of his legs, there was 
 huttoned 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 mahogany- 
 colored tops. 
 
 Still, Tackleton, the Toy-merchant, was going to 
 be married. In spite of all this, he 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 a screw in his body, and his hat jerked 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 39 
 
 over the bridge of his nose, and his hands stuck down 
 into the bottoms of his pockets, and his whole sar- 
 castic 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. Next Thursday. The last 
 day of the first month in the year. That 's my wed- 
 ding-day," said Tackleton. 
 
 Did I mention that he had always one eye wide 
 open, and one eye nearly shut ; and that the one 
 eye nearly shut, was always the expressive eye ? I 
 don't think I did. 
 
 "That's my wedding-day!" said Tackleton, 
 rattling his money. 
 
 ** Why, it 's our wedding-day too," exclaimed the 
 Carrier. 
 
 *' Ha ha ! " laughed Tackleton. '' Odd ! You 're 
 just such another couple. Just !" 
 
 The indignation of Dot at this presumptuous asser- 
 tion is not to be described. What next? His 
 imagination would compass the possibility of just 
 such another Baby, perhaps. The man was mad. 
 
40 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 *' I say ! A word with you," murmured Tackleton, 
 nudging the Gamer with his elbow, and taking him a 
 little apart. ** You '11 come to the wedding ? We 're 
 in the same boat, you know.*' 
 
 ** How in the same boat ?" inquired the Carrier. 
 
 **A little disparity, you know;" said Tackleton, 
 with another nudge. " Come and spend an evening 
 with us, beforehand." 
 
 ** Why ?" demanded John, astonished at this press- 
 ing 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 to- 
 gether : you and your wife. We know better, you 
 know, but — " 
 
 **No, we don't know better," interposed John. 
 " What are you talking about ?" 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 41 
 
 "Well! We dont know better then," said 
 Tackleton. ** We '11 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 favorable effect on Mrs. Tackleton that will 
 be. And though I don't think your good lady 's very 
 friendly to me, in this matter, still she can't help her- 
 self from falling into my views, for there 's a compact- 
 ness and cosiness of appearance about her that always 
 tells, even in an indifferent case. You '11 say you '11 
 come?" 
 
 ** We have arranged to keep our Wedding-Day (as 
 far as that goes) at home," said John. ** We have 
 made the promise to ourselves 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 ; 
 /would ! I always do. I hate their noise.) There 
 are four walls and a ceiling at my house. Come 
 tome!" 
 
 ** You kill your Crickets, eh ?" said John. 
 
 '* Scrunch 'em, sir," returned the other, setting his 
 heel heavily on the floor. ** You'll say you'l] come ? 
 
42 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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 he hotter off. I 
 know their way. Whatever one woman says, another 
 woman is determined to clinch, always. There 's 
 that spirit of emulation among 'em. Sir, that if 
 your wife says to my wife, * I 'm the happiest 
 woman in the world, and mine 's the host hushand 
 in the world, and I dote on him,' my wife will 
 say the same to your's, or more, and half helieve 
 it." 
 
 ** Do you mean to say she don't, then ? " asked 
 the Carrier. 
 
 " Don't ! " cried Tackleton, v/ith 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 he doted on, that he substituted, "that 
 she don't believe it ? " 
 
 ** Ah you dog ! you 're joking," said Tackleton. 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 43 
 
 But the Carrier, though slow to ur.derstand 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 humour, " said Taekleton : holding up 
 the fingers of his left hand, and tapping the fore- 
 finger, to imply * there I am, Taekleton to wit :' ** I 
 have the humour. 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 
 humour 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, and then at her, and 
 then at him again. 
 
 ** She honors and obeys, no doubt, you know," 
 said Taekleton ; " and that, as I am not a man 
 of sentiment, is quite enough for me. But do you 
 think there 's anything more in it ? " 
 
 ** I think," observed the Carrier, " that I should 
 
44 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 chuck any man out of 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 uncom- 
 fortable and uncertain, in spite of himself. He 
 couldn't help showing it, in his manner. 
 
 ** Good night, my dear friend! " said Tackleton, 
 compassionately. "I'm off. We 're exactly alike, in 
 reality, I see. You won 't give us to-morrow evening ? 
 Well ! Next day you go out visiting, I know. I '11 
 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, hke 
 a glass vessel. She had risen from her seat, and 
 stood like one transfixed by terror and surprise. The 
 Stranger had advanced towards the fire, to warm 
 himself, and stood within a short stride of her 
 chair. But quite still. 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 45 
 
 *' Dot ! " cried the Carrier. ** Mary ! Darling ! 
 what's the matter ? " 
 
 They were all about her in a moment. Caleb, who 
 had been dozing on the cake-box, in the first imper- 
 fect recovery of his suspended presence of mind 
 seized Miss Slowboy by the hair of her head ; but 
 immediately apologised. 
 
 ** Mary ! " exclaimed the Carrier, supporting her in 
 his arms. " 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 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. 
 
 ** 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 towards the strange old gentle- 
 man, as if addressing him ! Was her brain wan- 
 dering ? 
 
46 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 '' Only a fancy, John dear — a kind of shock — a 
 somethhig 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, turn- 
 ing 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 grey 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'ards for 
 the light ; and what a firebox for a gentleman's 
 mantel-shelf, just as he stands ! " 
 
 " Not half ugly enough," said Tackleton. *' No- 
 thing 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 !" 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 47 
 
 "Good night," said Tackleton. "Good night, 
 John Peerybingle ! Take care how you carry that 
 box, Caleb. Let it fall, and I '11 mui'der 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. 
 
 "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 gentle- 
 man, advancing to him ; '* the more so, as I fear your 
 wife has not been well ; but the Attendant whom my 
 infirmity," he touched his ears and shook his head, 
 " renders almost indispensable, not having arrived, 
 I fear there must be some mistake. The bad night 
 which made the shelter of your comfortable cart 
 (may I never have a worse ! ) so acceptable, is still as 
 
48 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 bad as ever. 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. **WellI I don't object; but still 
 I 'm not quite sure that — " 
 
 " Hush ! " she interrupted. ** Dear John ! " 
 "Why, he 's stone deaf," urged John, 
 *'I know he is, but — Yes Sir, certainly. Yes! 
 certainly ! I '11 make him up a bed, directly, John." 
 As she hurried off to do it, the flutter of her spirits, 
 and the agitation of her manner, were so strange, that 
 the Carrier stood looking after her, quite confounded. 
 " Did its mothers make it up a Beds then ! " cried 
 Miss Slowboy to the Baby ; " and did its hair grow 
 brown and curly, when its caps was lifted off, and 
 frighten it, a precious Pets, a sitting by the fires ! " 
 
 With that unaccountable attraction of the mind to 
 trifles, which is often incidental to a state of doubt 
 and confusion, the Carrier, as he walked slowly 
 to and fro, found himself mentally repeating even 
 these absurd words, many times. So many times 
 that he got them by heart, and was still conning 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 49 
 
 them over, and over, like a lesson, when Tilly, after 
 administering as much friction to the little bald head 
 with her hand as she thought wholesome (according 
 to the practice of nurses), had once more tied the 
 Baby's cap on. 
 
 " And frighten it a Precious Pets, a sitting by the 
 fire. 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 inten- 
 tion in his mind of linking anything that Tackleton 
 had said, with the unusual conduct of his wife ; but 
 the two subjects of reflection came into his mind 
 together, and he could not keep them asunder. 
 
 The bed was soon made ready ; and the visitor, 
 declining all refreshment but a cup of tea, retired. 
 Then Dot : quite well again, she said : quite well 
 again : arranged the great chair in the chimney corner 
 for her husband ; filled his pipe and gave it him ; 
 
50 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 and took her usual little stool beside liim 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, wheedHng, 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, afi*ect to think that there was 
 really something in the tube, and blow a dozen times, 
 and hold it to her eye like a telescope, with a most 
 provoking twist in her capital 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 I The little Mower on the clock, in 
 his imheeded work, acknowledged it ! The Carrier, 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 
 
 51 
 
 in his smoothing forehead and expanding face, ac- 
 knowledged it, the readiest of all. 
 
 And as he so- 
 berly and thought- 
 fully puffed at his 
 
 old pipe ; and as the Dutch clock ticked ; and as the 
 
 red fire gleamed ; and as the Cricket chirped ; that 
 
 E 2 
 
52 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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 grand-childi'en ; withered Dots, who leaned on 
 sticks, and tottered as they crept along. Old Carriers 
 too, appeared, with blind old Boxers lying at their 
 feet; and newer carts with younger drivers (*'Peery- 
 bingle 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 
 
CHIRP THE FIRST. 53 
 
 he thanked his Household Gods with all his might, 
 and cared no more for Gruff and Tackleton than 
 you do. 
 
 But what was that young figure of a man, which 
 the same Fairy Cricket set so near Her stool, and 
 which remained there, singly and alone ? Why did 
 it Hnger still, so near her, with its arm upon the 
 chimney-piece, ever repeating " Married ! and not 
 to me ! " 
 
 Oh Dot ! Oh failing Dot ! There is no place for it 
 in all your husband's visions ; why has its shadow 
 fallen on his hearth ! 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 55 
 
 themselves, as the Story-Books say — and my bless- 
 ing, with yours to back it I hope, on the Story- 
 books, for saying anything in tliis workaday world ! 
 — Caleb Plummer and his Blind 'Daughter lived 
 all alone by themselves, in a little cracked nut- 
 shell of a wooden house, which was, in truth, 
 no better than a pimple on the prominent red-brick 
 nose of Gruff and Tackleton. The premises of Gruff 
 and Tackleton were the great feature of the street ; 
 but you might have knocked down Caleb Plummer 's 
 dwelling with a hammer or two, and carried off the 
 pieces in a cart. 
 
 If any one had done the dwelling-house of Caleb 
 Plummer the honour to miss it after such an inroad, 
 it would have been, no doubt, to commend its demoli- 
 tion as a vast improvement. It stuck to the premises 
 of Gruff and Tackleton, like a barnacle to a ship's 
 keel, or a snail to a door, or a little bunch of toad- 
 stools to the stem of a tree. But it was the germ 
 from which the full-grown trunk of Gruff and Tackle- 
 ton had sprung ; and under its crazy roof, the Gruff 
 before last, had, in a small way, made toys for a 
 generation of old boys and girls, who had played 
 
56 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 with them, and found them out, and broken them, 
 and gone to sleep. 
 
 I have said that Caleb and liis poor Blind Daughter 
 lived here ; but I should have said that Caleb lived 
 here, and his poor Blind Daughter somewhere else ; 
 in an enchanted 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. 
 The BHnd Girl never knew that ceilings were dis- 
 coloured ; 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 iron was rusting, 
 wood rotting, paper peehng off ; the very size, and 
 shape, and true proportion of the dwelling, withering 
 away. The Blind Girl never knew that ugly shapes 
 of delf and earthenware were on the board ; that 
 sorrow and faint-heartedness were in the house ; that 
 Caleb's scanty hairs were turning greyer and more 
 grey before her sightless face. The Blind Girl never 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 57 
 
 knew thej had a master, cold, exacting and unin- 
 terested : never knew that Tackleton was Tackleton 
 in short ; but lived in the belief of an eccentric 
 humourist 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 ; all the doing of her 
 simple father ! But he too had a Cricket on his 
 Hearth ; and listening sadly to its music when the 
 motherless BHnd Child was very young, that Spirit 
 had inspired him with the thought that even her great 
 deprivation 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 (which is frequently the case) ; and there are not 
 in the Unseen World, Voices more gentle and more 
 true ; that may be so implicitly relied on, or that are 
 so certain to give none but tenderest counsel ; as the 
 Voices in which the Spirits of the Fireside and the 
 Hearth, address themselves to human kind. 
 
 Caleb and his daughter were at work together in 
 their usual working-room> which served them for 
 
58 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 their ordinary 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 ; titchens 
 and single apartments for Dolls of the lower classes ; 
 capital town residences for Dolls of high estate. 
 Some of these establishments were already furnished 
 according to estimate, with a view to the conveni- 
 ence 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 accommodation 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 (which experience shows 
 to be lamentably difficult in real life), the makers 
 of these DoUs had far improved on Nature, who is 
 often froward and perverse ; 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 mistake. Thus, the Doll-lady of 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 59 
 
 Distinction had wax limbs of perfect symmetry ; but 
 only she and her compeers ; the next grade in the 
 social scale being made of leather ; and the next of 
 coarse linen stuff. As to the common-people, they 
 had just so many matches out of tinder-boxes for 
 their arms and legs, and there they were — esta- 
 blished in their sphere at once, beyond the possi- 
 bility 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. By a 
 bold poetical license, most of these Noah's Arks had 
 knockers on the doors ; inconsistent appendages 
 perhaps, as suggestive of morning callers and a Post- 
 man, yet a pleasant finish to the outside of the build- 
 ing. There were scores of melancholy little carts 
 which, when the wheels went round, performed most 
 doleful music. Many small fiddles, drums, and other 
 instruments of torture ; no end of cannon, shields, 
 swords, spears, and guns. There were little tumblers 
 
60 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 in red breeches, incessantly swarming up high obstacles 
 of red-tape, and coming down, head first, upon the 
 other side ; and there were innumerable old gentle- 
 men of respectable, not to say venerable appearance, 
 insanely flying over horizontal pegs, inserted, for the 
 purpose, in their own street doors. There were beasts 
 of all sorts ; horses, in particular, of every breed ; from 
 the spotted barrel on four pegs, with a small tippet 
 for a mane, to the thoroughbred rocker on his highest 
 mettle. As it would have been hard to count the dozens 
 upon dozens of grotesque figures that were ever 
 ready to commit all sorts of absurdities, on the 
 turning of a handle ; so it would have been no easy 
 task to mention any hmnan folly, vice, or weakness, 
 that had not its type, immediate or remote, in Caleb 
 Plummer's room. And not in an exaggerated form ; 
 for very little handles will move men and women to as 
 strange performances, as any Toy was ever made to 
 undertake. 
 
 In the midst of all these objects, Caleb and his 
 daughter sat at work. The Blind Girl busy as a 
 Doll's dressmaker ; and Caleb painting and glazing 
 the four-pair front of a desirable family mansion. 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 
 
 61 
 
 The care imprinted in 
 the lines of Caleb's face, 
 and his absorb- 
 ed and dreamy 
 ,^y manner, 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. But trivial things, invented and 
 
62 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 pursued for bread, become very serious niatters of 
 fact ; and, apart from this consideration, I am not at 
 all prepared to say, myself, that if Caleb had been a 
 Lord Chamberlain, or a Member of Parliament, or a 
 lawyer, or even a great speculator, he would have 
 dealt in toys one whit less whimsical ; while I have 
 a very great doubt whether they would have been as 
 harmless. 
 
 ** 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 towards a clothes-line in the room, 
 on which the sackcloth 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 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 63 
 
 Caleb, watching the effect of what he said, upon her 
 brightening face ; ** upon my word. When I hear 
 the boys and people 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 common man, said * No, your 
 Honor I 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 BHnd Girl ! How meny she was, in her 
 exultation ! 
 
 ** 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" — 
 
 " Bright blue," said Caleb. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! Bright blue ! " exclaimed the girl, 
 turning up her radiant face ; " the colour 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 meiTy eye, your smihng face, your free 
 
64 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 step, and your dark hair: looking so young and 
 handsome ! " 
 
 " HaUoa ! Halloa ! " said Caleb. " I shaU be 
 vain, presently." 
 
 ** / 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. 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 counterfeited for her 
 ear ; and never had he, when his heart was heaviest, 
 forgotten the light tread that was to render hers so 
 cheerful and courageous ! 
 
 Heaven knows ! But I think Caleb's vague bewil- 
 derment of manner may have half originated in his 
 having confused himself about himself and everything 
 around him, for the love of his Blind Daughter. How 
 could the little man be otherwise than bewildered, 
 ^ after labouring for so many years to destroy^ his own 
 identity, and that of all the objects that had any 
 bearing on it ! 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 66 
 
 ** 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 hal^ence 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 regular doors to the rooms to go in at ! 
 But that's the worst of my calling, Tm always de- 
 luding myself, and swindling myself." 
 
 " You are speaking quite softly. You are not tired 
 father ? " 
 
 ** Tired," echoed Caleb, with a great burst of ani- 
 mation, " what should tire me. Bertha ? / was never 
 tired. What does it mean ? " 
 
 To give the greater force to his words, he checked 
 himself in an involuntary imitation of two half length 
 stretching and yawning figures on the mantel-shelf, 
 who were represented as in one eternal state of weari- 
 ness from the waist upwards ; and hummed a fragment 
 of a song. It was a Bacchanalian song, something 
 about a Sparkling Bowl ; and he sang it with an 
 assumption of a Devil-may-care voice, that made 
 his face a thousand times more meagre and more 
 thoughtful than ever. 
 
66 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 " What I you're singing, are you V^ said Tackleton, 
 putting his head in, at the door. "Go it! /can't 
 sing/' 
 
 Nobody woidd have suspected him of it. He hadn't 
 what is generally termed a singing face, by any means. 
 
 ** I can't afford to sing, " said Tackleton. ** 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 think, if you didn't know him, he was 
 in earnest — wouldn't you now ?" 
 
 The Blind Girl smiled, and nodded. 
 
 ** The bird that can sing and won't sing, must be 
 made to sing, they say, ' ' grumbled Tackleton. * * What 
 about the owl that can't sing, and oughtn't to sing, 
 and will sing ; is there anything that he should be 
 made to do ?" 
 
 ** The extent to which he's winking at this 
 moment !" whispered Caleb to his daughter. " Oh, 
 my gracious !" 
 
 " Always merry and light-hearted with us !" cried 
 the smiUng Bertha. 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 67 
 
 ** Oh ! you're there, are you ?" answered Tackleton. 
 ** Poor Idiot!'' 
 
 He really did believe she was an Idiot ; and he 
 founded the belief, I can't say whether .consciously or 
 not, upon her being fond of him. 
 
 ** Well ! and being there, — how are you ? " said 
 Tackleton ; in his grudging way. 
 
 " 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 ; held it 
 for a moment in her own two hands ; and laid her 
 cheek against it tenderly, before releasing 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 ? " 
 
 1 F 2 
 
68 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 ** Red in the mornings and the evenings, Bertha," 
 said poor Caleh, with a woeful glance at his employer, 
 
 ** When it rose, and the hright light I almost fear 
 to strike myself against in walking, came into the 
 room, I turned the little tree towards it, and hlessed 
 Heaven for making things so precious, and blessed 
 you for sending them to cheer me ! " 
 
 " Bedlam broke loose ! " said Tacldeton under his 
 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 (I believe he was) whe- 
 ther Tackleton had done anything to deserve her 
 thanks, or not. If he could have been a perfectly 
 free agent, at that moment, required, on pain of death, 
 to kick the Toy merchant, or fall at his feet, according 
 to his merits, I believe it would have been an even 
 chance which course he would have taken. 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 shoidd help to keep her from suspecting how 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 69 
 
 much, how very much, he every day denied himself, 
 that she might be the happier. 
 
 <*Bertha!'* said Tackleton, assuming, for the 
 nonce, a httle cordiality. ** Come here." 
 
 **0h! I can come straight to you! You needn't 
 guide me !" she rejoined. 
 
 " 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 Girl 
 in an ecstacy. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I hear it," murmured Caleb, with the 
 fixed look of a sleep-walker ; *' but I don't believe 
 it. It 's one of my lies, I Ve no doubt." 
 
70 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 " You see I — I want to bring the Peerjbingles a 
 little more into company with May Fielding," said 
 Tackleton. ** I am going to be 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 compre- 
 hend me. Ah, Bertha ! Married ! Church, parson, 
 clerk, beadle, glass-coach, bells, breakfast, bride-cake, 
 favours, 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?" muttered Tacldeton. "It 's more 
 than I expected. " Well ! on that account I want to 
 join the party, and to bring May and her mother. 
 I '11 send in a little something or other, before the 
 afternoon. A cold leg of mutton, or some comfort- 
 able trifle of that sort. You '11 expect me ?" 
 
 "Yes," she answered. 
 
 She had drooped her head, and turned away ; and 
 so stood, with her hands crossed, musing. 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 71 
 
 ** I don't think you will/' muttered Tackleton, 
 looking at her ; "for you seem to have forgotten all 
 about it, already. Caleb ! " 
 
 "I may venture to say I'm here, I suppose," 
 thought Caleb. "Sir!" 
 
 " Take care she don't forget what I 've been saying 
 to her." 
 
 " She never forgets," returned Caleb. " It 's one 
 of the few things she an't clever in." 
 
 "Every man thinks his own geese, swans," ob- 
 served the Toy merchant, with a shrug. " Poor 
 devil!" 
 
 Having delivered himself of which remark, with 
 infinite contempt, old Gruff and Tackleton withdrew. 
 
 Bertha remained where he had left her, lost in 
 meditation. The gaiety had vanished from her down- 
 cast 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 waggon by the 
 summary process of naiUng the harness to the vital 
 
72 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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 your's 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 cheerfulness 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 
 cheerfulness and neatness possible, in the old crazy 
 shed which Caleb's fancy so transformed. 
 
 " You have your working dress on, and are not so 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 73 
 
 gallant as when you wear the handsome coat ? *' said 
 Bertha, touchmg him. 
 
 ** Not quite so gallant," answered Caleb. " Pretty 
 brisk though.** 
 
 "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 ; 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 Sparkhng 
 Bowl ; his infallible resource in all such difficulties. 
 
74 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH, 
 
 ** Our friend, father ; our benefactor. I am never 
 tired you know of hearing ahout him. — Now was I, 
 ever? '* she said, hastily. 
 
 ** Of course not,*' answered Caleb. ** And with 
 reason.'' 
 
 ** Ah ! With how much reason ! " cried the Blind 
 Girl. With such fervency, that Caleb, though his 
 motives were so pure, could not endure to meet her 
 face ; but dropped his eyes, as if she could have read 
 in them his innocent deceit. 
 
 ** 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 
 aU favours with a show of roughness and unwilling- 
 ness, beats in its every look and glance." 
 
 *' And makes it noble," added Caleb in his 
 quiet desperation. 
 
 ** 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 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 75 
 
 in infirmity and age ; to be his gentle nurse in sick- 
 ness, and liis constant friend in suffering and sorrow ; 
 to know no weariness in working for his sake ; to 
 watch him, tend him ; sit beside his bed, and talk to 
 him, awake ; and pray for him asleep ; what privi- 
 leges these would be ! What opportunities for prov- 
 ing all her truth and her devotion to him ! Would 
 she do all this, dear father ? " 
 
 " No doubt of it," said Caleb. 
 
 ** I love 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 
 commotion at John Peerybingle's ; for little Mrs. 
 Peerybingle naturally couldn't think of going any- 
 where without the Baby ; and to get the Baby under 
 weigh, took time. Not that there was much of the 
 Baby : speaking of it as a thing of weight and 
 measure : but there was a vast deal to do about and 
 about it, and it all had to be done by easy stages. 
 For instance : when the Baby was got, by hook and 
 
76 TIIE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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 (so to speak) between two blankets 
 for the best part of an hour. From this state of 
 inaction he was then recalled, shining very much and 
 roaring violently, to partake of — well ! I would rather 
 say, if you 11 permit me to speak generally — of a 
 sHght repast. After which, he went to sleep again. 
 Mrs. Peerybingle took advantage of this interval, to 
 make herself as smart in a small way as ever you saw 
 anybody in all your life ; and during the same short 
 truce, Miss Slowboy insinuated herself into a spencer 
 of a fashion so surprising and ingenious, that it had 
 no connection with herself or anything else in the 
 universe, but was a shrunken, dog's-eared, independ- 
 ent fact, pursuing its lonely course without the least 
 regard to anybody. By this time, the Baby, being 
 all alive again, was invested, by the united efforts of 
 Mrs. Peerybingle and Miss Slowboy, with a cream- 
 coloured mantle for its body, and a sort of nankeen 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 77 
 
 raised-pie for its head ; and so in course of time they 
 all three got down to the door, where the old horse 
 had already taken more than the full value of his 
 day's toll out of the Turnpike Trust, hy tearing up 
 the road with his impatient autographs — and whence 
 Boxer might he 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 neces- 
 sary. 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 ! '' 
 
 If I might he allowed to mention a young lady's 
 legs, on any terms, I would observe of Miss Slowboy's 
 that there was a fatality about them which rendered 
 them singularly liable to be grazed ; and that she 
 never effected the smallest ascent or descent, without 
 recording the circiunstance upon them with a notch, 
 as Robinson Crusoe marked the days upon his wooden 
 calendar. But as this might be considered ungenteel, 
 I '11 think of it. 
 
78 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 ** John? You 've got the basket with the Veal 
 and Ham- Pie and things ; and the bottles of Beer ? " 
 said Dot. ** 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 Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and the bottles 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 79 
 
 of Beer, for any money. Regularly once a fortnight 
 ever since we have been married, John, have we made 
 our little Pic-Nic 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 honour you for it, little woman." 
 
 **My dear John," replied Dot, turning very red. 
 ** Don't talk about honouring me. Good Gracious !" 
 
 " 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 aU. 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." 
 
80 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 ** 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 rehed 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 informa- 
 tion 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, * when I thought you'd 
 be coming in an exactly opposite direction. That's 
 capital. I may trouble you for another lift perhaps, 
 but I'll engage not to fall so sound asleep again.' He 
 was sound asleep, sure-ly ! — Dot ! what are you think- 
 ing of?" 
 
 ** Thinking of, John ? I — I was listening to you." 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 81 
 
 *' Oh ! That's all right ! " said the honest Carrier. 
 ** I was afraid, from the look of your face, that I had 
 gone ramhhng on so long, as to set you thinking 
 about something else. I was very near it. Til 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 Peerybingle's cart, for everybody on 
 the road had something to say ; and though it might 
 only be ** How are you!" and indeed it was very 
 often nothing 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 
 recognitions of and by the Carrier, than half a dozen 
 Christians could have done ! Everybody knew him, 
 all along the road, especially the fowls and pigs, who 
 when they saw him approaching, with his body all on 
 one side, and his ears pricked up inquisitively, and that 
 
82 
 
 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 knob of a tail making the most of itself in the air, 
 immediately withdrew into remote back settlements, 
 without waiting for the honor of a nearer acquaintance. 
 He had business everywhere ; going down all the 
 turnings, looking into all the wells, bolting in and out 
 of all the cottages, dashing into the midst of all the 
 Dame- Schools, fluttering all the pigeons, magnifying 
 the tails of all the cats, and trotting into the public 
 houses like a regular customer. Wherever he went, 
 somebody or other might have been heard to cry, 
 * Halloa ! Here's Boxer I " 
 
 and out came that somebody forthwith, accompanied 
 by at least two or three other somebodies, to give 
 John Peerybingle and his pretty wife, Good Day. 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 83 
 
 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. Some people 
 were so full of expectation about their parcels, and 
 other people were so fuU of wonder about their 
 parcels, and other people were so full of inexhaustible 
 directions about their parcels, and John had such a 
 lively interest in aU the parcels, that it was as good 
 as a play. 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 : a charm- . 
 ing little portrait framed to admiration by the tilt : 
 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, 
 G 2 
 
84 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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 '11 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, oh a great deal ! It 's 
 astonishing how much you may see, in a thicker fog 
 than that, if you will only take the trouble to look for 
 it. Why, even to sit watching 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 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 85 
 
 again. The hedges were tangled and hare, and 
 waved a multitude of hlighted garlands in the wind ; 
 hut there was no discouragement in this. It was 
 agreeahle to contemplate ; for it made the fireside 
 warmer in possession, and the summer greener in 
 expectancy. The river looked chilly ; hut it was in 
 motion, and moving at a good pace ; which was a 
 great point. The canal was rather slow and torpid ; 
 that must he admitted. Never mind. It would 
 freeze the sooner when the frost set fairly in, and 
 then there would he skating, and sliding ; and the 
 heavy old harges, frozen up somewhere, near a wharf, 
 would smoke their rusty iron chimney-pipes all day, 
 and have a lazy time of it. 
 
 In one place, there was a great mound of weeds or 
 stuhhle hurning ; and they watched the fire, so white 
 in the day time, flaring through the fog, with only 
 here and there a dash of red in it, until, in con- 
 sequence as she ohserved of the smoke ** getting 
 up her nose," Miss Slowhoy choked — she could do 
 anything of that sort, on the smallest provocation — 
 and woke the Bahy, who wouldn't go to sleep again. 
 But Boxer, who was in advance some quarter of a mile 
 
86 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 or SO, had already passed the outposts of the town, and 
 gained the corner of the street where Caleh 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, which 
 persuade 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, invariably. What experience he could ever have 
 had of blind people or blind dogs, I don't know. He 
 had never lived with a blind master ; nor had Mr. 
 Boxer the elder, nor Mrs. Boxer, nor any of his 
 respectable family on either side, ever been visited 
 with blindness, that I am aware of. He may have 
 found it out for himself, perhaps, but he had got hold 
 of it somehow ; and therefore he had hold of Bertha 
 too, by the skirt, and kept hold, imtil Mrs. Peery- 
 bingle 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 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 87 
 
 peevish face, who, in right of having preserved a 
 waist like a bedpost, was supposed to be' a most 
 transcendant figure ; and who, in consequence of 
 having once been better off, or of labouring under 
 an impression that she might have been, if something 
 had happened which never did happen, and seemed 
 to have never been particularly likely to come to pass — 
 but it 's all the same — was very genteel and patron- 
 ising indeed. Gruff and Tackleton was also there, 
 doing the agreeable ; with the evident sensation of 
 being as perfectly at home, and as unquestionably in 
 his own element, as a fresh young salmon on the top 
 of the Great Pyramid. 
 
 ** May ! My dear old friend ! " cried Dot, running 
 up to meet her. " What a happiness to see you ! " 
 
 Her old friend was, to the full, as hearty and as glad 
 as she ; and it really was, if you '11 beHeve me, quite 
 a pleasant sight to see them embrace. Tackleton 
 was a man of taste, beyond all question. May was 
 very pretty. 
 
 You know sometimes, when you are used to a pretty 
 face, how, when it comes into contact and compari- 
 son with another pretty face, it seems for the moment 
 
88 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 to be homely and faded, and hardly to deserve the high 
 opinion you have had of it. Now, this was not at all 
 the ease, either with Dot or May ; for May's face 
 set off Dot's, and Dot's face set off May's, so 
 naturally and agreeably, that, as John Peerybingle 
 was very near saying when he came into the room, 
 they ought to have been born sisters : which was the 
 only improvement you could have suggested. 
 
 Tackleton had brought his leg of mutton, and, 
 wonderful to relate, a tart besides — but we don't mind 
 a little dissipation when our brides are in the case ; 
 we don't get married every day — 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 (he was pro- 
 hibited, by solemn compact, from producing any other 
 viands), Tackleton led his intended mother-in-law to 
 the Post of Honour. For the better gracing of this 
 place at the high Festival, the majestic old Soul had 
 adorned herself with a cap, calculated to inspire the 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 89 
 
 thoughtless with sentiments of awe. She also wore 
 her gloves. But let us be genteel, or die ! 
 
 Caleb sat next his daughter ; Dot and her old 
 schoolfellow 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 vene- 
 rable old gentlemen at the street doors (who were all 
 in full action) showed especial interest in the party : 
 pausing occasionally before leaping, as if they were 
 
90 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 listening to the conversation : and then plunging 
 wildly over and over, a great many times, without 
 halting for hreath, — as in a frantic state of delight 
 with the whole proceedings. 
 
 Certainly, if these old gentlemen were inclined to 
 have a fiendish joy in the contemplation of Tackle- 
 ton's discomfiture, they had good reason to be 
 satisfied. Tackleton couldn't get on at aU ; and the 
 more cheerful his intended Bride became in Dot's 
 society, the less he Hked it, though he had brought 
 them together for that purpose. For he was a 
 regular Dog in the Manger, was Tackleton ; and when 
 they laughed, and he couldn't, he took it into his 
 head, immediately, that they must be laughing at him. 
 
 ** Ah May!" said Dot. "Dear dear, what 
 changes ! To talk of those merry school-days makes 
 one young again." 
 
 "Why, you ant particularly old, at any time ; are 
 you ?" said Tackleton. 
 
 " Look at my sober, plodding husband there," 
 returned Dot. ** He adds Twenty years to my age 
 at least. Don't you John ? " 
 
 " Forty," John replied. 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 91 
 
 ** How many you 11 add to May's, I am sm-e 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 have twisted Dot's neck : comfortably. 
 
 " Dear dear ! " said Dot. " Only to remember how 
 we used to talk, at school, about the husbands we 
 would choose. I don't know how young, and how 
 handsome, and how gay, and 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 ? " 
 
92 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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 
 bridegrooms 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 !" 
 
 **Why, Dot!" exclaimed the Carrier. ** Little 
 woman !" 
 
 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 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 93 
 
 Tackleton; but it proved effectual, for she stopped, 
 and said no more. There was an uncommon agita- 
 tion, even in her silence, which the wary Tackleton, 
 who had brought his half-shut eye to. bear upon her, 
 noted closely ; and remembered to some purpose too, 
 as you wiU see. 
 
 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 interposed : observing, in the first instance, 
 that girls were girls, and byegones byegones, and 
 that so long as young people were young and thought- 
 less, they would probably conduct themselves like young 
 and thoughtless persons: with two or three other 
 positions of a no less sound and incontrovertible cha- 
 racter. She then remarked, in a devout spirit, that 
 she thanked Heaven she had always found in her 
 daughter May, a dutiful and obedient child ; for which 
 she took no credit to herself, though she had every 
 reason to believe it was entirely owing to herself. 
 With regard to Mr. Tackleton she said. That he was 
 in a moral point of view an undeniable individual ; and 
 That he was in an eligible point of view a son-in-law 
 
94 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 to be desired, no one in their senses could doubt. 
 (She was very emphatic here). With regard to 
 the family into which he was so soon about, after 
 some soHcitation, to be admitted, she believed Mr. 
 Tackleton knew that, although reduced in purse, it 
 had some pretensions to gentihty ; and that if certain 
 circumstances, not wholly unconnected, she would go so 
 far as to say, with the Indigo Trade, but to which she 
 would not more particularly refer, had happened dif- 
 ferently, it might perhaps have been in possession of 
 Wealth. 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 bhss 
 — ^not rapturous bliss; but the solid, steady-going 
 article — ^from the approaching nuptials. She con- 
 cluded by informing the company that to-morrow 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 95 
 
 was the day she had lived for, expressly ; and that 
 when it was over, she would desire nothing hetter 
 than to he packed up and disposed of, in any genteel 
 place of hurial. 
 
 As these remarks were quite unanswerable : which 
 is the happy property of all remarks that are suffi- 
 ciently wide of the purpose : they changed the current 
 of the conversation, and diverted the general attention 
 to the Veal and Ham-Pie, the cold mutton, the pota- 
 toes, and the tart. In order that the bottled beer might 
 not be slighted, John Peerybingle proposed To-mor- 
 row : 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 evening, 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 
 and bridegroom elect, who did but indifferent honour 
 to the toast. One of these was Dot, too flushed and 
 
96 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 discomposed to adapt herself to any small occurrence 
 of the moment ; the other Bertha, who rose up 
 hurriedly, before the rest, and left the table. 
 
 ** 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. 
 
 He seemed to say it by rote, and to wave his hand 
 in the same unconscious manner ; for he stood ob- 
 serving 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 11 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 ?" 
 
CmRP THE SECOND. 97 
 
 ** I quite forgot the pipe, John." 
 
 Forgot the Pipe ! Was such a wonder ever 
 heard of ! She ! Forgot the Pipe ! 
 
 " I 'll__I '11 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 ; hut her hand shook so, that she 
 entangled it (and yet her hand was small enough to 
 have come out easily, I am sure), and hungled terribly. 
 The filling of the Pipe and lighting it ; those little 
 offices in which I have commended her discretion, if 
 you recollect ; were vilely done, from first to last. 
 During the whole process, Tackleton stood looking 
 on maliciously with the half-closed eye ; which, when- 
 ever it met her's — or caught it, for it can hardly be 
 said to have ever met another eye : rather being a 
 kind of trap to snatch it up — augmented her confusion 
 in a most remarkable degree. 
 
 " Why, what a clumsy Dot you are, this afternoon ! " 
 said John. **I could have done it better myself, I 
 verily believe !" 
 
 With these good-natured words, he strode away -; 
 
98 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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, 
 watching his Blind Daughter, with the same expres- 
 sion on his face. 
 
 ** Bertha!" said Caleb, softly. *^What has hap- 
 pened ? How changed you are, my Darling, in a few 
 hours — since this morning. You silent and dull all 
 day! What is it ? Tell me ! 
 
 ** Oh father, father !" cried the Blind Girl, burst- 
 ing into tears. ** Oh my hard, hard Fate ! " 
 
 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," 
 he faultered, ** 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 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 99 
 
 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 her hreast, ** and hold 
 here ! That I might he sure I have it right ! And 
 sometimes (hut 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 
 he the true resemhlance 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 Caleh. 
 
 ** But father! Oh my good, gentle father, hear 
 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 hut 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 ! " 
 
 H 2 
 
100 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 May heard the mention of her name, and coming 
 quietly towards her, touched her on the arm. The 
 Blind Girl turned immediately, and held her hy hoth 
 hands. 
 
 *' Look into my face, Dear heart. Sweet heart !'* 
 said Bertha. ** Read it with your heautiful eyes, and 
 tell me if the Truth is written on it." 
 
 "Dear Bertha, Yes !" 
 
 The Blind Girl still, upturning the hlank sightless 
 face, down which the tears were coursing fast, ad- 
 dressed her in these words : 
 
 ** There is not, in my Soul, a wish or thought 
 that is not for your good, bright May ! There is 
 not, in my Soul, a grateful recollection stronger than 
 the deep remembrance 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 ! Not the less, my dear May ;" and she 
 drew tow;ards her, in a closer grasp ; "not the less, 
 my Bird, because, to-day, the knowledge that you 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 101 
 
 are to be His wife has wrung my heart ahnost 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 
 mingled supphcation and love. Sinking lower and 
 lower down, as she proceeded in her strange confes- 
 sion, 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 — for such she was, whatever 
 faults she had ; however you may learn to hate her, 
 in good time — it was well for all of them, I say, that 
 she was there : or where this would have ended, it 
 were hard to tell. But Dot, recovering her self- 
 
102 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 possession, interposed, before May could reply, or 
 Caleb say another word. 
 
 ** Come come, dear Bertba ! 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 forehead. ** 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, — the saying 
 is, as fresh as any daisy ; / say fresher — to mount 
 guard over that bridling little piece of consequence in 
 the cap and gloves, and prevent the dear old creature 
 from making discoveries. 
 
 ** 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 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 
 
 103 
 
 twenty points wliere I 'm as wrong as can be. Won't 
 you, Mrs. Fielding ? " 
 
 Not even the Welsh Giant, who, according to the 
 popular expression, was so ** slow" as to perform a 
 
104 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 fatal surgical operation upon himself, in emulation of 
 a juggling- trick achieved by his arch-enemy at break- 
 fast-time ; not even he 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, leav- 
 ing her to her own resources ; was quite enough to 
 have put her on her dignity, and the bewailment of 
 that mysterious convulsion in the Indigo trade, for 
 four-and-twenty hours. But this becoming deference 
 to her experience, on the part of the young mother, 
 was so irresistible, 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 (if acted on) have utterly destroyed and done 
 up 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 ; how ever she contrived it, / don't know — 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 105 
 
 then did a little nursing ; then a little more needle- 
 work ; then had a little whispering chat with May, 
 while the old lady dozed ; and so in little hits of 
 bustle, which was quite her manner always, found it 
 a very short afternoon. Then, as it grew dark, and 
 as it was a solemn part of this Institution of the Pic- 
 Nic that she should perform all Bertha's household 
 tasks, she trimmed the fire, and swept the hearth, 
 and set the tea-hoard out, and drew the cm-tain, 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 Uttle 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 Caleb had sat down to his afternoon's work. 
 But he couldn't settle to it, poor fellow, being anxious 
 and remorseful for his daughter. It was touching to 
 see him sitting idle on his working-stool, regarding 
 her so wistfully ; and always saying in his face. 
 
106 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 ** have I deceived her from her cradle, hut to hreak 
 her heart !'V 
 
 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 — for I must come to it, and there 
 is no use in putting it off — when the time drew nigh 
 for expecting the Carrier's return in every sound of 
 distant wheels ; her manner changed again ; her 
 colour came and went ; and she was very restless. 
 Not as good wives are, when listening for their hus- 
 hands. No, no, no. It was another sort of restless- 
 ness from that. 
 
 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 face 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, 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 107 
 
 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 honour." 
 
 ** 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 
 limgs, 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 
 
108 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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 some- 
 how. See yonder, 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 especially. 
 
 " 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 ^re ! My 
 humble service, Misti^ss. A game at cribbage, you 
 and I ? That *s hearty. The cards and board, Dot. 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 109 
 
 And a glass of beer here, if there 's any left, small 
 wife ! " 
 
 His challenge was addressed to the old lady, who 
 accepting it with gracious readiness, they were soon 
 engaged 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 occa- 
 sional 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 
 Tackleton. 
 
 " I am soiTy 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. 
 
110 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 ** Hush ! John Peerybingle/' said Tackleton. ** I 
 am 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 fright- 
 ened aspect. 
 
 ** Hush ! 1 11 show you, if you '11 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 ? " 
 
 << Why not?" returned the Carrier. 
 
 "A moment more," said Tackleton. ** Don't 
 commit any violence. It 's of no use. It 's danger- 
 ous 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 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. Ill 
 
 Step as if he had been struck. In one stride he was 
 at the window, and he saw — 
 
 Oh Shadow on the Hearth ! Oh truthful Cricket ! 
 Oh perfidious Wife ! 
 
 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 desolate 
 and miserable home. He saw her listening to him, 
 as he bent his head to whisper in her ear ; and suffer- 
 ing him to clasp her round the waist, as they moved 
 slowly down the dim wooden gallery towards the 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 im- 
 mediately again, he spread it out before the eyes of 
 Tackleton (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 
 
112 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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 he hlithe and 
 cheerful in her parting ? Could she venture to reveal 
 her face to them without a blush ? Yes. Tackleton 
 observed her closely ; and she did all this. 
 
 Tilly was hushing the Baby; and she crossed 
 and re-crossed Tackleton, a dozen times, repeating 
 drowsily : 
 
 ** Did the knowledge that it was to be its wifes, 
 then, wring its hearts almost to breaking ; and did 
 its fathers deceive it from its cradles but to break 
 its hearts at last !" 
 
 *' 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 
 
CHIRP THE SECOND. 113 
 
 moved off. Boxer, the unconscious Boxer, running on 
 before, running back, running round and round the 
 cart, and barking 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 contem- 
 plation 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 
 agitated rocking-horses with distended eyes and nos- 
 trils ; 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 beino- false, 
 or Tackleton beloved, under any combination of cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
rrC ^^-^ 
 
 HE Dutch clock in the corner ( 
 struck Ten, when the Carrier 
 sat down hy his fireside. So W 
 troubled and grief-worn, that 
 he seemed to scare the Cuckoo, 
 who, having 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 115 
 
 melodious announcements as sjiort as possible, plunged 
 back into the Moorish Palace again, and clapped his 
 little door behind him, as if the unwonted spectacle 
 were too much for his feehngs. 
 
 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 
 remembrance, spun from the daily working of her 
 many qualities 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 
 I 2 
 
116 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 might do Murder before you know it," Tackleton had 
 said. How could it be Murder, if he gave the Villain 
 time to grapple with hini 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 place which lonely travellers 
 would dread to pass by night ; and where the timid 
 would see 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. 
 Oh agony to think of it ! 
 
 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 — ^in the 
 turning of the rack of his great misery, he lost all 
 other sounds — and put her little stool at his feet. He 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. Il7 
 
 only knew it, when lie 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 enquiring 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. 
 
 Though the power of Omnipotence had been his 
 to wield at that moment, he had too much of its Di- 
 viner property of Mercy in his breast, to have turned 
 one feather's weight of it against her. But 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. 
 
118 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 The more he felt this, and the more he knew he 
 could have better borne to see her lying prematurely 
 dead before him with their little child upon her breast, 
 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 towards 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 complete possession of him, casting out all 
 milder thoughts and setting up its undivided empire. 
 
 That phrase is wrong. * Not casting out his milder 
 thoughts, but artfully transforming them. Changing 
 them into scourges to drive him on. Turning water 
 into blood. Love into hate, Gentleness into bhnd 
 ferocity. Her image, sorrowing, humbled, but still 
 pleading to his tenderness and mercy with resistless 
 power, never left his mind ; but staying there, it urged 
 him to the door ; raised the weapon to his shoulder ; 
 fitted and nerved his finger to the trigger ; and cried 
 **KiUhim! In his Bed! " 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 119 
 
 He reversed the Gun to beat the stock upon the 
 door ; he already held it lifted in the air ; some 
 indistinct design was in his thoughts of calling out to 
 him to fly, for God's sake, by the window — 
 
 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 her's ; 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 pleasant voice — 
 oh what a voice it was, for making household music 
 at the fireside of an honest man ! — 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. 
 
120 
 
 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 The Cricket on the Hearth came out into the room, 
 and stood in Fairy shape before him. 
 
 ** * 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.' *' 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 121 
 
 ** 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 Car- 
 rier. ** She made it happy, always, — until now." 
 
 ** So gracefully sweet-tempered ; so domestic, joy- 
 ful, 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 controul, 
 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 blighted," interposed the 
 Carrier. 
 
 ** The hearth she has — how often ! — blessed and 
 brightened," said the Cricket : "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 
 
122 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 sacrificed some petty passion, selfislmess, or care, and 
 offered up the homage of a tranquil mind, a trusting 
 nature, and an overflowing heart ; so that the smoke 
 from this poor chimney has gone upward with a better 
 fragrance than the richest incense that is burnt before 
 the richest shrines in all the gaudy Temples of this 
 World ! — Upon your own hearth ; in its quiet sanc- 
 tuary ; surrounded by its gentle influences and asso- 
 ciations ; hear her ! Hear me ! Hear everything 
 that speaks the language of your hearth and home ! " 
 
 ** And pleads for her ? " enquired the Carrier. 
 
 " 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 Picture. It was not a solitary Presence, 
 From the hearthstone, 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 house- 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 123 
 
 Hold implements ; from every thing and every place 
 with which she had ever been familiar, and with which 
 she had ever entwined one recollection of herself in 
 her unhappy husband's mind ; Fairies came trooping 
 forth. Not to stand beside him as the Cricket did, but 
 to busy and bestir 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 em- 
 brace 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 fond of it and loved it ; and that 
 there was not one ugly, wicked, or accusatory creature 
 to claim knowledge of it — none but their playful and 
 approving selves. 
 
 His thoughts were constant to her Image. It was 
 always 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 consent, with one prodigious concentrated 
 stare ; and seemed to say " Is this the light wife you 
 are mourning for ! " 
 
 There were sounds of gaiety outside : musical in- 
 
124 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 struments, p.nd 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, enough to 
 make them go and drown themselves immediately if 
 they were her admirers — and they must have been so, 
 more or less ; they couldn't help it. And yet in- 
 difference was not her character. Oh no ! For pre- 
 sently, 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 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 125 
 
 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 fairies worked like Bees to clear it off 
 again ; and Dot again was there. Still bright and 
 beautiful. 
 
 Rocking her little Baby in its cradle ; singing to 
 it softly ; and resting her head upon a shoulder which 
 had 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 Carrier'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 inter- 
 vals 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 consternation, and plied their little arms 
 and legs, with inconceivable activity, to rub it out. 
 And whenever they got at Dot again, and showed her 
 
12G THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 to liim once more, bright and beautiful, they cheered 
 in the most inspiring manner. 
 
 They never showed her, otherwise than beautiful 
 and bright, for they were Household Spirits to whom 
 Falsehood 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 bud of a little woman — to convey the idea of 
 having abjured 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 merrily 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 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 127 
 
 carried cheerfulness and animation with her, whereso- 
 ever 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 grati- 
 tude to her ; her own good busy way of setting 
 Bertha's thanks aside ; her dexterous 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 arriv- 
 ing at the door, and taking leave ; the wonderful 
 expression in her whole self, from her neat foot to the 
 crown of her head, of being a part of the establish- 
 ment — a something necessary to it, which it couldn't 
 be without ; all this the Fairies revelled in, and loved 
 her for. And once again they looked upon him all 
 at once, appeaUngly ; and seemed to say, while 
 some among them nestled in her dress and fondled 
 her, " Is this the Wife who has betrayed your confi- 
 dence ! " 
 
 More than once, or twice, or thrice, in the long 
 thoughtful night, they showed her to him sitting on 
 
128 THE CRICKET ON TUE HEARTH. 
 
 her favourite seat, with her bent head, her hands 
 clasped on her brow, her falling hair. As he had seen 
 her last. And 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 cus- 
 tomary 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 
 
CHIRr THE THIRD. 129 
 
 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 hefore his own door, many minutes, 
 when he saw the Toy Merchant coming in his chaise 
 along the road. As the chaise drew nearer, he per- 
 ceived that Tackleton was dressed out sprucely, for 
 his marriage : and had decorated his horse's head 
 with flowers and favors. 
 
 The horse looked much more like a Bridegroom 
 than Tackleton : whose half-closed eye was more dis- 
 agreeably expressive than ever. But the Carrier took 
 little heed of this. His thoughts had other occupation. 
 
 ** John Peeryhingle !" said Tackleton, with an air 
 of condolence. ** My good fellow, how do you find 
 yourself this morning ?" 
 
 ** 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 ?" 
 
130 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 *' I came on purpose," returned Tackleton, alight- 
 ing. *' 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 hrought it from his stahle and 
 set it hefore him, they turned into the house. 
 
 ** You are not married hefore noon?" he said, 
 ** I think?" 
 
 *'No," answered Tackleton. "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 mistress cried) was at the keyhole ; and she was 
 knocking very loud ; and seemed frightened. 
 
 ** 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 !" 
 
 This philanthropic wish. Miss Slowboy emphasied 
 with various new raps and kicks at the door ; which 
 led to no result whatever. 
 
 ** Shall I go ?" said Tackleton. '' It 's curious." 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 131 
 
 The Carrier who had turned his face from the door, 
 signed to him to go if he would. 
 
 So Tackleton went to Tilly Slowhoy's rehef ; and 
 he too 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, 
 looked in, went in ; and soon came running out again. 
 
 *' John Peeryhingle," said Tackleton, in his ear. 
 ** I hope there has heen nothing — nothing rash in the 
 night." 
 . The Carrier turned upon him quickly. 
 
 ** Because he 's gone I " 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?'' 
 
 He nearly shut up the expressive eye, altogether ; 
 he looked at him so hard. And he gave his eye, and 
 his face, and his whole person, a sharp twist. As if 
 he would have screwed the truth out of him. 
 
 "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. 
 K 2 
 
132 THE CRICKET ON TIIE HEARTH. 
 
 He is away of his own free will. I *d go out gladly at 
 that door, and heg my bread from house to house, 
 for life, if I could so change the past that he had 
 never come. But 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 — " 
 
 " And tenderly," insinuated Tackleton. 
 
 ** Conniving at that man's disguise, and giving him 
 opportunities of meeting her alone. I think there 's 
 no sight I wouldn't have rather seen than that. I 
 think there 's no man in the world I wouldn't have 
 rather had to show it me." 
 
 **I confess to having had my suspicions always,'* 
 said Tackleton. ** And that has made me objection- 
 able here, I know." 
 
 *' But as you did show it me," pursued the Carrier, 
 not minding him ; ** and as you saw her ; my wife ; 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 133 
 
 my wife that I love " — his voice, and eye, and hand, 
 grew steadier and firmer as he repeated these words : 
 evidently in pursuance of a stedfast 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 hreast, and know what my mind is, upon the sub- 
 ject. For it 's settled," 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 
 companion. Plain and unpolished as it was, it had a 
 something 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 and years. There 's many men I can't 
 
lo4 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 compare with, who never could have loved my little 
 Dot like me, 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.'* 
 
 ** HahT' said Tackleton, with a significant shake of 
 his head. 
 
 ** I had studied myself ; I had had experience of 
 myself; 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, frivo- 
 lity, fickleness, love of admiration ! Not considered ! 
 AU 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 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 135 
 
 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 her 
 young companions, and the many scenes of which she 
 was the ornament ; in which she was the brightest 
 little star that ever shone ; to shut her up from day 
 to day in my dull house, and keep my tedious com- 
 pany ? Did I consider how little suited I was to her 
 sprightly humour, and how wearisome a plodding man 
 like me must be, to one of her quick spirit ? 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 hopeful 
 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 
 cheerftd constancy with which she has tried to keep 
 
136 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 the knowledge of this from me I And Heaven help 
 me, that, in my slow mind, I have not found it out 
 before ! Poor child ! Poor Dot ! I not to find it 
 out, who have seen her eyes fill with tears, when such 
 a marriage as our own was spoken of ! I, who have 
 seen the secret trembling on her lips a hundred times, 
 and never suspected it, till last night ! Poor girl ! 
 That I could ever hope she would be fond of me ! 
 That I could ever believe she was !'* 
 
 ** 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 oihim. 
 
 '' 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 happiness I have known 
 under this roof *^bear witness ! It will be some help 
 and comfort to me, when I am here alone.*' 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 137 
 
 ** Here alone ? '* said Tackleton. " Oh ! Then 
 you do mean to take some notice of this ? " 
 
 ** I mean," returned the Carrier, **to do her the 
 greatest 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, 
 twisting 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," 
 exclaimed 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 
 
138 THE CRICKET ON TIIE HEARTH. 
 
 her dear self, in its every passage, in review before 
 me. And upon my soul slie is innocent, if tliere is 
 One to judge the innocent and guilty ! " 
 
 Staunch Cricket on the Hearth ! Loyal household 
 Fairies I 
 
 ** Passion and distrust have left me ! " said the 
 Carrier ; " and nothing but my grief remains. In an 
 unhappy moment some old lover, better suited to her 
 tastes and years than I ; forsaken, perhaps, for me, 
 against her will ; returned. In an unhappy moment : 
 taken by surprise, and wanting time to think of what 
 she did : she made herself a party to his treachery, by 
 concealing it. Last night she saw him, in the inter- 
 view 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 '11 never hate me. She 'U learn to like 
 me better, when I 'm not a drag upon her, and she 
 wears the chain I have rivetted, more lightly. This 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 139 
 
 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 trouhle 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 anywhere. 
 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 '11 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 not steal away, pretending to be ignorant of 
 what has afi'ected me with such 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 
 
140 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 earnestness, slie went no nearer to him even then. 
 How different in 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 11 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 '11 remember what I have said ? " 
 
 « Why, if you compel me to make the observation,'* 
 said Tackleton ; previously taking the precaution of 
 getting into his chaise ; "I must say that it was so 
 very unexpected, that I 'm far from being likely to 
 forget it." 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 141 
 
 ** The better for us both," returned the Carrier. 
 ** Good bye. I give you joy ! " 
 
 ** I wish I could give it to j/om," 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 
 favours near at hand ; and then, with a deep sigh, 
 went strolling like a restless, broken man, among 
 some neighbouring 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 
 enough to dead and bury the Baby, so it is if 
 you please." 
 
142 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 " Will you bring him sometimes, to see his father, 
 Tilly," enquired her mistress ; drying her eyes ; 
 " when I can't hve 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 soft-hearted Slowboy trailed off at this junc- 
 ture, into such a deplorable howl : the more tremen- 
 dous from its long suppression : that she must 
 infallibly have awakened the Baby, and frightened 
 him into something serious (probably convulsions), if 
 her eyes had not encountered Caleb Plummer, leading 
 in his daughter. This spectacle restoring her to a 
 sense of the proprieties, she stood for some few mo- 
 ments silent, with her mouth wide open : and then, 
 posting off to the bed on which the Baby lay asleep, 
 danced in a Weird, Saint Vitus manner on the 
 floor, and at the same time rummaged with her 
 face and head among the bedclothes : apparently 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 143 
 
 deriving much relief from those extraordinary opera- 
 tions. 
 
 " Mary ! " said Bertha. " Not at the marriage T' 
 
 "I told her you would not he there Mum, "whispered 
 Caleb. " I heard as much last night. But bless 
 you," said the little man, taking her tenderly by both 
 hands, ** / don't care for what they say ; / 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 
 have 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 '11 stay with me. Mum, the while, tell her the 
 truth. You '11 stay with me the while ? " he enquired, 
 
144 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 trembling from head to foot. ** I don't know what 
 effect it may have upon her ; I don't know what she '11 
 think of me ; I don't know that she '11 ever care for 
 her poor father afterwards. But 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 ! " she pressed the hand between her 
 own, and the soft cheek against her face. " No ! I 
 am not so Blind as that." 
 
 Her father went on one side of her, while Dot 
 remained 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, 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 145 
 
 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 ! '* 
 
 ** Bertha, my dear ! '* said Caleb, " I have some- 
 thing 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, 
 my child," said Caleb, with a pitiable expression in 
 his bewildered face. ** I have wandered from the 
 Truth, intending to be kind to you ; and have been 
 cruel.'* 
 
 She turned her wonder-stricken face towards him, 
 and repeated ** Cruel ! " 
 
 *' He accuses himself too strongly. Bertha," said 
 Dot. ** You 11 say so, presently. You 'U be the first 
 to tell him so." 
 
 ** He cruel to me ! " cried Bertha, with a smile of 
 incredulity. 
 
 ** Not meaning it, my child," said Caleb. " But 
 I have been ; though I never suspected it, 'till yester- 
 
146 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 day. 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 heen false to you.** 
 
 She turned her wonder-stricken face towards 
 him still ; hut drew hack, and clung closer to her 
 friend. 
 
 ** Yom' road in life was rough, my poor one,*' said 
 Caleh, ** and I meant to smooth it for you. I have 
 altered objects, changed the characters of people, 
 invented many things that never have heen, to make 
 you happier. I have had concealments from you, 
 put deceptions on you, God forgive me ! and sur- 
 rounded you with fancies.** 
 
 *'But living people are not fancies?" she said 
 hurriedly, and turning very pale, and still retiring 
 from him. '' You can't change them." 
 
 ** I have done so. Bertha,*' pleaded Caleb. *' There 
 is one person that you know, my Dove — " 
 
 *' Oh father! why do you say, I know?" she 
 answered, in a tone of keen reproach. " What and 
 whom do / know ! I who have no leader I I so 
 miserably blind ! *' 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 147 
 
 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 her 
 face. 
 
 ** The marriage that takes place to-day," said 
 Caleh, **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. UnHke what I have painted him to you in 
 everything, my child. In everything." 
 
 ** Oh why," cried the Blind Girl, tortured, as it 
 seemed, almost heyond endm-ance, " 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 
 ohjects of my love ! Oh Heaven, how blind I am ! 
 How helpless and alone ! " 
 
 Her afflicted father hung his head, and offered no 
 reply hut in his penitence and sorrow. 
 
 She had been but a short time in this passion of 
 regret, 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 >vhen the Presence 
 L 2 
 
148 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 which had 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 
 indeed. 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, q,nd 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 ? Did you send them ?" 
 
 *' No." 
 
 ** Who then?" 
 
 Dot saw she knew, already ; and was silent. The 
 
CHIRr THE THIRD. 149 
 
 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 were 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. Goon." 
 
 ** He is an old man, worn with care and work. 
 He is a spare, dejected, thoughtful, grey-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 1 honor his 
 grey head, and bless him ! " 
 
150 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 The Blind Girl broke away from her; and throwing 
 herself upon her knees before him, took the grey head 
 to her breast. 
 
 " It is my sight restored. It is my sight ! " she 
 cried. ** 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 
 devotedly, as this ! The greyer, 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 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 ! " 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 151 
 
 ** The fresh smart father in the hlue coat, Bertha," 
 said 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 reverence and love, because he had such 
 sympathy for me ; All are here in you. Nothing is 
 dead to me. The Soul of all that was most dear to 
 me is here — ^here, with the worn face, and the grey 
 head. And I am not blind, father, any longer ! " 
 
 Dot's whole attention had been concentrated, during 
 this discourse, upon the father and daughter ; but 
 looking, now, towards the little Haymaker in the 
 Moorish meadow, she saw that the clock was within 
 a few minutes 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 
 anything of lier that was not true ? " 
 
 ** I should have done it my dear, I am afraid," 
 returned Caleb, **if I could have made her better 
 
152 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 / 
 
 than she was. But I must have changed her for the 
 worse, if I had 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 1 " 
 
 ** Yes. Coming very fast." 
 
 ** I — I — I know you have a quick ear," said Dot, 
 placing her hand upon her heart, and evidently talk- 
 ing on, as fast as she could, to hide its palpitating 
 state, " because 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 
 
- CHIRP THE THIRD. 158 
 
 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 that 
 she spoke to him, no less than to his daughter. He 
 saw her, with astonishment, so fluttered and dis- 
 tressed that she could 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 ?" 
 
154 TIIE CRICKET ON TIIE HEARTH. 
 
 - 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 ecstacy ; ** 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 
 heartiness with which she met the sunburnt Sailor- 
 fellow, with his dark streaming hair, half way, and 
 never turned her 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 
 bursting out of the trap-door in the Moorish Palace 
 like a housebreaker, and hiccoughing twelve times on 
 the assembled company, as if he had got drunk for 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 155 
 
 The Carrier, enteriDg, 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 yourself ; him that you were always such a 
 friend to ! " 
 
 The Carrier advanced to seize him by the hand ; 
 but recoiHng, as some feature in his face awakened a 
 remembrance of the Deaf Man in the Cart, said : 
 
 " Edward ! Was it you ? '' 
 
 " Now tell him all ! " cried Dot. ** Tell him all, 
 Edward ; 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 
 
156 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 man, unheard. You were he. So I am certain you 
 will hear me now." 
 
 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 !" 
 
 ** Indeed I had," returned the other. *' And she 
 returned 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 returning, 
 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 forgotten 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 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 167 
 
 be3^ond 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 ; ob- 
 serving freely for myself, and judging for myself, 
 without obstruction on the one hand, or presenting 
 my own influence (if I had any) before her, on the 
 other ; 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." 
 
 ** 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 much too 
 open in his nature, and too clumsy in all artifice — 
 being a clumsy man in general," said Dot, half 
 laughing and half crying — ** to keep it for him. And 
 when she — that's me, John," sobbed the little 
 
158 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 woman — ** 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 married (though close upon it), 
 and that it would be nothing but a sacrifice if 
 it went on, for there was no love on her side ; 
 and 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 what she — me again, John — said 
 and thought was right. And it was right, John ! 
 And they were brought together, 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 
 anything to the purpose ; and never so completely 
 irresistible as in her present transports. There never 
 were congratulations so endearing and delicious, as 
 those she lavished on herself and on the Bride. 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 159 
 
 Amid the tumult of emotions in his breast, the 
 honest Carrier had stood, confounded. Flying, now, 
 towards her, Dot stretched out her hand to stop him, 
 and retreated as before. 
 
 " No John, no I Hear all ! Den'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 woiddn't let him. 
 
 " Don't love me yet, please John ! Not for a long 
 time yet ! When I was sad about this intended 
 marriage, dear, it was because I remembered May 
 and Edward such young lovers ; and knew that hei- 
 heart was far away from Tackleton. You believe that, 
 now. Don't you John ? " 
 
360 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 John was going to make another rush at this 
 appeal ; hut 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 vigour. 
 ** My opinion 1" 
 
 *' And when I speak of people being middle-aged, 
 and steady, John, and pretend that we are a hum- 
 drum couple, going on in a jog-trot sort of way, it 's 
 only because 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 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 161 
 
 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, 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 ! That 's my home, John ; 
 and never, never think of sending me to any other !" 
 
 You never will derive so much delight from seeing 
 a glorious little woman in the arms of a third party, 
 as you would have felt if you had seen Dot run into 
 the Carrier's embrace. It was the most complete, 
 unmitigated, soul-fraught little piece of earnestness 
 that ever you beheld in all your days. 
 
 You may be sure the Carrier was in a state of 
 perfect rapture ; and you may be sure Dot was like- 
 wise ; and you may be sure they all were, inclusive 
 
162 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 of Miss Slowboy, who cried copiously for joy, 
 and, wishing to include her young charge in the 
 general interchange of congratulations, handed round 
 the Baby to everybody in succession, as if it were 
 something to drink. 
 
 But now the sound of wheels was heard again out- 
 side the door ; and somebody exclaimed that Gruff 
 and Tackleton was coming back. Speedily that 
 worthy gentleman appeared : looking warm and 
 flustered. 
 
 ** Why, what the Devil's this, John Peerybingle !" 
 said Tackleton. ** There 's some mistake. I ap- 
 pointed 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 favour to spare this young lady, she 
 has rather a particular engagement this morning." 
 
 *' But I can't spare her," returned Edward. " 1 
 couldn't think of it." 
 
 " What do you mean, you vagabond ? " said 
 Tackleton. 
 
 ** I mean, that as I can make allowance for your 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 163 
 
 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." 
 
 The look that Tackleton bestowed upon him, and 
 the start he gave ! 
 
 ** 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 '11 
 excuse her." 
 
 Tackleton looked hard at the third finger ; and 
 took a little piece of silver-paper, apparently contain- 
 ing 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 en- 
 gagement : that prevented my wife from keeping her 
 appointment with you, I assure you," said Edward. 
 
 ** Mr. Tackleton will do me the justice to acknow- 
 ledge that I revealed it to him faithfully ; and that 
 I told him, many times, I never could forget it," said 
 May, blushing. 
 
 M 2 
 
164 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 " 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 
 Tackleton : scrutinizing his face narrowly, and making 
 a low bow. " I give you joy Sir !" 
 
 ** Thank'ee." 
 
 ** Mrs. Peerybingle," said Tackleton, turning sud- 
 denly 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 animal 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 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. J 65 
 
 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 pro- 
 duce such an entertainment, as should reflect undying 
 honour 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 neighbourhood, as on a point of Hfe 
 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. Tilly never 
 came out in such force before. Her ubiquity was the 
 theme of general admiration. She was a stumbling- 
 block in the passage at five and twenty minutes past 
 two ; a man-trap in the kitchen at half-past two 
 precisely ; and a pitfall in the garret at five and 
 twenty minutes to three. The Baby's head was, as it 
 
166 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 were, a test and touchstone for every description of 
 matter, animal, vegetable, and mineral. Nothing 
 was in use that day that didn't come, at some time or 
 other, into close acquaintance with it. 
 
 Then, there was a great Expedition set on foot to go 
 and find out 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, but said, an unspeakable 
 number of times, that ever she should have Uved 
 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 calmness, and observed, that when 
 that unfortunate train of circumstances had occurred 
 in the Indigo Trade, she had foreseen that she would 
 be exposed, during her whole life, to every species of 
 insult and contumely ; and that she was glad to find 
 it was the case ; and begged they wouldn't trouble 
 themselves about her, — for what was she ? oh, dear ! 
 a nobody ! — ^but would forget that such a being lived. 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 167 
 
 and would take their course in life without her. 
 From this hitterly sarcastic mood, she passed into 
 an angry one, in which she gave vent to the remark- 
 ahle expression that the worm would turn if trodden 
 on ; and after that, she yielded to a soft regret, 
 and said, if they had only given her their con- 
 fidence, what might she not have had it in her 
 power to suggest ! Taking advantage of this crisis 
 in her feelings, the Expedition embraced her ; and 
 she very soon had her gloves on, and was on her 
 way to John Peerybingle's in a state of unimpeach- 
 able gentility ; with a paper parcel at her side con- 
 taining 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 fears were entertained ; and there was 
 much looking out for them down the road ; and Mrs. 
 Fielding always would look in the wrong and morally 
 impossible direction ; and being apprised thereof, 
 hoped she might take the liberty of looking where 
 she pleased. At last they came : a chubby little 
 couple, jogging along in a snug and comfortable little 
 
168 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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. 
 
 Then, Dot*s mother had to renew her acquaintance 
 with May's mother ; and May's mother always 
 stood on her gentility ; and Dot's mother never stood 
 on anything but her active little feet. And old Dot : 
 so to call Dot's father ; I forgot it wasn't his right 
 name, but never mind : took liberties, and shook 
 hands at first sight, and seemed to think a cap but so 
 much starch and muslin, and didn t defer himself at 
 all to the Indigo trade, but said there was no help 
 for it now ; and, in Mrs. Fielding's summing up, 
 was a good-natured kind of man — but coarse, my 
 dear. 
 
 I wouldn't have missed Dot, doing the honors in 
 her wedding-gown : my benison on her bright face ! 
 for any money. No ! nor the good Carrier, 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 and as stout a meal 
 as man need eat ; and to have missed the overflowing 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 169 
 
 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 ! As I m a living man : hoping to 
 keep so, for a year or two : he sang it through. 
 
 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 
 staggering in, without saying with your leave, or by 
 your leave, with something heavy on his head. 
 Setting this down in the middle of the table, sym- 
 metrically 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. Mrs. Fielding, being a lady 
 of infinite discernment, suggested that the cake 
 was poisoned ; and related a narrative of a 
 cake, which, within her knowledge, had turned a 
 seminary for young ladies, blue. But she was over- 
 ruled by acclamation ; and the cake was cut by May, 
 with much ceremony and rejoicing. 
 
170 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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. 
 
 The whole party would have experienced great 
 difficulty in finding words for their astonishment, even 
 if they had had ample 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 Tackleton himself walked in. 
 
 "Mrs. Peerybingle ! " 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 sweetened, more or less, 
 by coming face to face with such 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 
 
CHIRP THE THIRD. 171 
 
 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 all away. Be gracious 
 to me ; 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 V whispered Dot. 
 
 He had been very near it though ! 
 
 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 endeavours 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 lingering about the stable for some 
 little time, vainly attempting to incite the old horse 
 
172 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 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 aban- 
 doned, he had got up again, turned tail and come home. 
 
 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 uncommon 
 figure. It was formed in an odd way ; in this way. 
 
 Edward, that sailor-fellow — a good free dashing sort 
 of fellow he was — had been telling them various marvels 
 concerning parrots, and mines, and Mexicans, and gold 
 dust, when all at once he took it in 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 aflPectation 
 when she chose) said her dancing days were over ; / 
 think because 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. 
 
alone ; and Bertha plays her liveliest tune. 
 
 Well ! if you'll believe me, they have not been dancing 
 
174 THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. 
 
 ^ve 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 won- 
 derfully. 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 ; Miss Slowboy, firm in the belief 
 that diving hotly in among the other couples, and 
 effecting any number of concussions with them, is your 
 only principle of footing it. 
 
 Hark ! how the Cricket joins the music with its 
 
 Chirp, Chirp, Chirp ; and how the kettle hums ! 
 ***** 
 But what is this ! Even as I listen to them, blithely, 
 and turn towards Dot, for one last glimpse of a httle 
 figure very pleasant to me, she and the rest have 
 vanished 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. 
 
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