OSES AND THISTLES SAMUEL MORTON / ROSES AND THISTLES. THE HORSEWHIP WHISTLED ROUND HIS HEAD AND CAME WITH A VICIOUS CUT ACROSS HIS SHOULDERS. Chap. 13. JflOl. OC CALIF- LHMK. LOS ** ROSES AND THISTLES BY SAM. HORTON, Author of " For King and Parliament," " Her Bonnie Pit Laddie," "Prince Charlie of the Canongate," "The Charm of the Cross," "Rags and Velvet," "Lilliath," Etc., Etc. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY ERNEST PRATER. LONDON : W. A. HAMMOND, HOLBORN HALL, CLERKENWELL ROAD, E.C. TO SIR GEORGE GREEN, (GLASGOW), WHOSE FRIENDSHIP I GREATLY PRIZE, AND WHO HAS ALWAYS SHOWN A CONSPICUOUS INTEREST IN EVERY MOVEMENT THAT AIMS AT BENEFITTING HUMANITY. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. AMONG THE ROSES 7 II. OVER THE GARDEN WALL 18 III. A NONCONFORMIST BISHOP ... 33 IV. THE COMING OF THE CHILD ... 42 V. A GOOD SHEPHERD 49 VI. THE LAND AND THE LADY ... 60 VII. THE RED ACRES 70 VIII. HE THAT REMEMBERETH THE POOR 81 IX. THE HEARTACHE OF THE RICH ... 91 X. Two SERMONS 100 XI. AND HE SPAKE IN PARABLES ... 114 XII. MANY HAPPY RETURNS 127 XIII. A SNAKE AMIDST THE FLOWERS ... 141 XIV. CALLED TO BE A MINISTER ... 153 XV. THE GUILE OF A HUMOURIST ... 168 XVI. A RACE 181 XVII. SHE SANG OF HOME 205 XVIII. LADY WINCANTON'S PARTY ... 214 XIX. THE RETURN OF A WANDERER ... 222 XX. FOR RICHER, FOR POORER ... 239 XXI. HE WENT ABOUT DOING GOOD ... 247 XXII. THE PLOTTING OF THE WICKED ... 259 XXIII. THE DEEP WATERS 269 XXIV. THE TRIAL OF INNOCENCY.^ ... 279 XXV. LOVE IN THE MIRE 290 XXVI. THE BLINDING OF JUSTICE ... 298 XXVII. THE HAND OF THE POLICE ... 313 XXVIII. VENGEANCE is MINE 321 XXIX. A STRANGE CONFESSION 330 XXX. NEMESIS 338 R < ROSES AND THISTLES. CHAPTER I. AMONG THE ROSES. " A man must have beautiful roses in his heart before he can have beautiful roses in his garden." DEAN HOLE. " COME here, missis. That's what I call a picter. It would take some lickin' in the 'Cademy. I guess the angels binna far away, having a private view, and smilin' reet down to the bottom of their wings. She's rare and bonnie, and fits into that framework of roses as though she'd been made for it. Roses and young lassies are just the two sweetest things God has made, at least that I know anything aboot and when, you get 'em both together it's like honey on currant cake." It was, indeed, a pretty sight to which Rufus Wentworth called the attention of his wife. In a rustic arbour, covered with roses, white and red, with here and there a spray of honey- suckle intermingling, sat a young girl, fast asleep. A book she had been reading lay at her feet, having fallen from her hand, and the tresses of her long chestnut hair hung in be- wildering confusion around her shoulders. The features were perfectly oval, the forehead arched and prominent, the lips rich and full, while a saucy little dimple gave character to her white chin. The cheeks were like a peach kissed by the morning sun. 8 ROSES AND THISTLES. " Poor girl, she is weary," said Mrs. Went- worth. " She has been working hard at her music, for she is determined to get her certificate this year." " She'll do it, too," replied Rufus, " sure as the yolks of eggs is yallow. She's real grit, from crown to heel. Some young folks have got brains but no backbone, and they generally turn out wastrils ; others have backbone and no brains, and they are simpletons ; but she has both, and goodness, which is best of all. She weighs sixteen ounces to every pound, and the best quality at that. I dunno wonder the young fellows lose their heads over her. If I was young again, and thou wasn't in the way, I believe I'd be as bad as any one of 'em. But she's got summat you never had, and that's a bit of temper. Sakes alive, how she does rumple up ! " " You should not tease her, Rufus," said his wife. " You really are too bad for any- thing." Rufus chuckled. " Guess," he said, " I do make her rufne. She jumps like a chestnut in the fire. I just said this morning, ' I fear, Gwen, you're going to be left on the shelf after all. Why, you haven't had an offer for a whole month now. The young men binna as hot as they were, and I donno hear of ony more promising to drown themselves because you have sent them a hard- hearted refusal on a sheet of scented notepaper with a pansy in the corner. You'll be an old maid yet, and have nobody to talk to but a cat, and maybe a poll parrot, when you get old/ AMONG THE ROSES. 9 And then she flew at me like a mad canary, and says : ' You are a nasty old man. You want to get rid of me, but I won't marry, no, never, just to spite you.' La ! she is pratty to look at when she's riled, and has her feathers up, like a peacock with his tail spread." 11 I call it downright wicked," replied his wife, whose sense of humour was so small that Rufus sometimes said " she ought to have been put in a world where laughing was for- bidden, because it would be so easy for her to keep the law." " You carry your teasing to improper lengths. I like a bit of fun as well as anybody, but I do think there should be moderation in it. I am sure Gwen's very patient with you. ' I often wonder she does not get annoyed long before she does. Just fancy you telling her yesterday, in the presence of the minister, that Billy Bowden, that poor witless fellow, had been hanging round the greenhouses for weeks, wanting to marry her." "Well," said Rufus. " It's the truth. He was there every day sure enough. So, having a kind of inkling from what quarter the wind was blowing, I says, ' Billy, when bin you goin' to git married ? " ' When Miss Gwen's ready,' he says, pat as a pound of butter. ' Oh ! it's Miss Gwen ye are hankering after,' I answers, ' is it ? I'm afraid you are a flirt, Billy. Last time I mentioned the subject I remember it was Jennie Baxter you were in love with.' ' She wouldna have me. She said my legs were crooked, and that I was lazy.' ' Well, Billy,' I said, ' that was about your size, wasn't it ? ' * Nay,' he replied, ' my legs binna crooked. io ROSES AND THISTLES. They are only turned in a bit at the knees. I can straighten them when I like. And I'm not lazy neither, Mr. Wentworth. I held a horse last week for a gentleman, and I fetched a bucket of water the week before.' ' No wonder you are so thin, Billy, if you work like that. But,' said I, ' you have not asked my permission, you know.' ' It's not thee I want,' says Billy, ' it's Miss Gwen. You tell her, Mr. Wentworth, will you ? ' Well, now, with such an offer for her, how could I keep it to myself ? I thought I had better tell her when the minister was present so if she thought of accepting she could make arrangements for the wedding at once." " You are incorrigible," exclaimed his wife, who, having been a schoolmistress, had a com- mand of language which at times fairly staggered her husband. " Which ? " replied her husband. That was his stock word when he did not understand her. " Dictionaries, bin you calling about," he said once to a man seeking an order for the Royal Dictionary. " I have one five feet five inches tall, and eight stones weight, and I wouldna exchange it for any other in the market." " But this," said the agent, " has five thousand more words than any other, and is thoroughly up to date and reliable." " Dunno know how many words mine has in it," replied Rufus, " cos I've never had time to stop and count, but there binna one word I want but it's there wi'oot waiting. As to being up-to-date, I'll warrant it to be the latest fashion, and it's as reliable as the clock in the church steeple, which hanna lost five minutes AMONG THE ROSES. 11 for forty years." Rufus was proud of his wife, but liked to tease her. " You are a frivolous old man," she rejoined. " Ay," said Rufus, " I am a living example of the truth of Scripture, ' Evil communica- tions corrupt good manners.' Living with you and Gwen kind of makes a man light-headed, and feel ashamed of getting old. Now, if you had only lived up to your privileges, and been naggin' and snarlin' as wives ought to be, who want their husbands to grow up old in decent time, and Gwen had been a bother and a heart- ache instead of a blessin', I might have had a chance and come out like a pocket edition of Job. Why, there are times when I feel like jumping five-barred gates as I did when I was a lad. I just enjoy a day's bird's-nesting as much as any boy in the National school. Bless me, there are men at my age who are round- shouldered and they are weak on their pins, and they canna eat anything but slops, and rice puddin', for fear of dyspepsy or jaundice, and here I'm as straight as a gatepost, and can digest anything that isn't as hard as tenpenny nails. No, you hanno given me a chance. It's down right scandalous that a man nigh seventy should be able to walk five miles before breakfast and ten miles after his tea, and do a day's work between. But I canna help it," he continued, with a comical expression on his face. ' ' It's all your fault, and Gwen's. You've a lot to answer for, sure as pickle cabbage donno grow on raspberry bushes. I'm what they scientists call ' the product of my 'vironment.' ' His wife smiled as she looked into his good- 12 ROSES AND THISTLES- humoured face, in which there twinkled a pair of eyes as bright as stars. " There you are," he said, " smilin' like a May day, and as good lookin' as when I married you, twenty-four years, three months, twelve days, and three hours since, and you niver once said that you were sorry you ever yoked into harness with me. And you've never made a pie crust that I had to use the hatchet to get through, nor cooked a steak so that I had to fetch the saw to divide it up. I tell you, you haven't a decent notion of how to make a husband grow old, with your pastry that melts in the mouth, and cookin' that's fit for a king. It binna fair on the doctor, not one little bit. You should live and let live. I've never had a bottle of medicine in forty years. I says to him the other day, ' Dr. Gilmour, I'm kind of shamed to meet you in the street.' ' How's that, Rufus ? ' says he. ' Well," I answers, ' I like to be neighbourly, and for forty-five years I've never bought as much as a penn'orth of parygoric, or a ha'porth of stickin' plaster of you.' I says, ' I'm not likely to want any, as things are, in your line ; but if you like to make up a few quart bottles of medicine that will cure all sorts of complaints, and will keep, I don't mind stocking them, since you are a good customer of mine. They might come in handy when you are dead and gone, because our Lucy donno mean letting you have a chance while you're living." "You didn't," exclaimed his wife. "The doctor will think you are a queer man." " It's true, as white roses binna black," said AMONG THE ROSES. 13 Rufus. " Do you think I'm going to have the blame of goin' about like a lad of twenty at nearly three-score and ten, put on my shoulders ? Not I. I tell you I'm just a walkin' certificate wherever I go that I've got a wife at home that wonna let me get old like other folks decently, and in the order of nature." " And what did the doctor say ? " asked his wife. " He said he'd walk round and have a talk with you some day, and see if he couldn't get you to give him a look in. But he declared I owed him nothing since I took to growing kow- cumbers, and givin' them away in the village. Said he : ' There's dyspepsia a foot long hangin' in every kowcumber in your glasshouse.' And so that relieved my conscience so far as the doctor was concerned." Rufus went off laughing down the garden walk lined on each side with flower beds which were a sight to see. When he neared the harbour in which the girl slept, he broke a spray of lad's love from a bush, and stepping quickly behind her, began to tickle her nose. At first she mechanically brushed it away with her hand, but when the tickling continued she opened her eyes, and suddenly springing to her feet she turned round smartly and boxed his ears, at which, putting up both hands, he ran till he reached one of the greenhouses, while she pelted him with leaves and flowers. Shutting himself up and locking the door, he first made faces at her through the glass, and then sat down on the bench and laughed till he was purple in the face. i 4 ROSES AND THISTLES. " Upon my word, he gets worse every day," she said, as she joined Mrs. Wentworth. " That is just what I have been telling him. For a man of his years and a local preacher to carry on as he does is positively outrageous. I don't know whatever the village will think of him. He acts just like a schoolboy in his holidays." " I believe life is just a long holiday to dad," said Gwen. " He seems to enjoy everything so, and it is a positive treat to hear him laugh. He sees the best side of everybody. I some- times wish I were more like him. But come, mother, it is time we were getting tea ready ; and we will make him a raisin cake." " There you are, Gwen, finding fault with him one moment and petting and pampering him the next. That's the way you spoil him." " Spoil him," replied Gwen, lifting her eye- brows. " I wonder who it is gets up at five o'clock and makes him a cup of tea, and takes it to bed to him every morning ? And who is it that is always plotting and planning how to surprise him with all sorts of sweetmeats ? If the dear old boy could have been spoiled he would have been spoilt twenty years ago. But I do like to see his face when a raisin cake comes on the table. He looks like an incarnate bene- diction, and he eats it as though it were manna sent from heaven. While the women were busy with the tea cups, Rufus came out of the greenhouse, and commenced making a nosegay of lovely rose- buds. With great deftness he cut and arranged them, and when he had finished they formed AMONG THE ROSES. 15 as perfect a bouquet as it is possible to conceive. Rufus described himself as a market gardener, but the dav had long since gone by when he needed to grow for the market, and now, although he sent a consignment of flowers to Manchester twice a week, it was only what he called his surplus stock. He grew flowers for his own pleasure, and to give away. Once an American traveller, who had wan- dered in the village asked a boy if there was anything in the place worth seeing. " Ay ! " said the lad, " there is Mr. Went- worth's garden." * ' And what is there in the garden ? " he inquired. " Roses." * ' And what else." " More roses." " Well, are there any great men living about here ? " " There's nobut Mister Wentworth," he replied. ' 'And what is he ? Member of Parliament, eh ?" " No," said the lad, " he grows roses." And the stranger went to look at the garden, and he was astonished, for he saw three acres of roses, and a little man with a big head and a boy's face wheeling manure along the walk. ' ' Can you tell me where I can see the boss ? " he asked. Rufus, for it was he, dropped the handles of the barrow, and with a twinkle in his eye, said, " Guess, if you go to that door yonder, and knock, and ask for Gwen, you'll have your curiosity satisfied." 16 ROSES AND THISTLES. He went, and when, radiant in a print dress, there came a young lady with magnificent eyes, and a sweet smile, to the door, he was taken aback. " I beg your pardon, miss," he said, " but a man in the garden said if I came here I should find the boss." " If you mean my dad, he's yonder," she said, pointing to the little man sitting on his barrow, and peeping down the border of rose bushes, watching developments. " Why, that's the gard that is the man who sent me here to ask for Gwen." " I must apologise, sir," she said, blushing to the roots of her hair. " It's just one of my dad's jokes. When an hour afterwards the stranger left, with a rose in his coat, he acknowledged he had seen three things which had surprised him. The most beautiful girl he had ever set eyes on, the most lovely garden, and the most entertain- ing old man." When Rufus had finished his bouquet, he sat and wrote a label and fastened it on : " For Miss Madeline, from Uncle Rufus. ' Sorrow may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." This was one of Rufus's pastimes, to send bouquets to the sick, and with the flowers a favourite text. Just when he had completed his task, Gwen came to the door and shouted Tea." ' ' Shouldn't wonder," said he, ' ' if that means raisin cake. These women are always temptin' us poor male mortals through the stummack. That is how the trouble first began. AMONG THE ROSES. 17 But "<, said he, screwing up his face in a kind of knot, " I'm notj quite sure whether it has not bin worth while. Anyhow, we like it, and raisin cake is good." CHAPTER II. OVER THE GARDEN WALL. " And learn the luxury of doing good." GOLDSMITH. RUFUS WENTWORTH'S garden ran parallel with the street, and was separated from it by a grey stone wall. When Rufus first rented the place this wall was so high that nobody could see over it from the street. He applied for permission from his landlord to lower it, but this was refused. " Can't see why you want to lower it," said Lord Forrester. " If you are going to grow flowers and fruit it will be the best protection you can have against thieves." " It's not high walls, nor thick-set hedges that will keep out dishonest folks, my Lord," said Rufus. " I've been told the poachers have bin among your lordship's pheasants in the park, and the hedges are high enough and thick enough to keep out any but those who are determined to be in. I'm not afraid of anybody taking my stuff." " But it is such a strange request. Why do you want it down ? " " Well, you see, my lord, I've a horror of high walls and tall hedges. Seems like as OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 19 though we want to rail off a bit of God's earth for our own benefit, and wouldna so much as let a fellow creature have a glint at it. Seein' dunno do any harm, and if there's a beautiful bit of landscape, or a natural waterfall, why should we deny our fellow creatures havin' the sight of it ? I'm not sure, my lord, if we've any reet to do it, and I dunno know that any amount of money can give us the reet. I know we claim it, but some things the law courts of earth giv' us the title deeds to, wunno stand in the law court of heaven. It appears to me, my lord, if you will excuse me sayin' so, that rich men who shut out the common folk from the beauti- ful scenery and the flowers, wunno be likely to get the front seats and best views in the other world ; for, as far as I read, we shall have done to us pretty much what we do to others." But his lordship had old-fashioned views as to the rights of property, .and refused to yield. But when he had one of his periodical losses on the turf a few years after, he was obliged to sell part of the estate. Rufus bought his own house, and a few days later the two top courses of the wall came off, so that to every passer-by there was open a vision of beauty. And none in the summer passed without stopping to look at the roses, and many a tired woman and weary child carried with them a rose to cheer them on their way. And Rufus would come and chat over the garden wall to his neighbours, and at eventide two or three of his particular cronies came and sat on the top, and smoked their pipes, and debated national politics, or discussed local news. 20 ROSES AND THISTLES. And so it came to pass, in the course of time, that the garden wall was the recognised meeting place of the elders of the village, and many a grave subject was thrashed out there, from the value of guano as manure, to the policy of the German Emperor. And it was a pleasant thing on a summer evening to see five or six of these village elders sitting in a row like so many sparrows on a telegraph wire, all except Rufus puffing away at a long churchwarden and gravely putting Church and State right ; and between times talking about the weedy condition of Houchin's wurzles, or the need of Nelson's sow having a ring through her nose to prevent her from " rooting." In that assembly, Rufus, by right of fitness, was a kind of leader, for all tacitly acknowledged his superiority in thought and speech. Dudman, the miller, came next. He was a little withered man, lame on one leg. He was at constant war with the lads who would make his mill windows the mark of their catapults, and he was always declaring " a worse set of scoundrels never existed." But he owned his mill, and was supposed to know a lot about politics, because he got the * * Times," two days old, from his son in London. He was a fine, crusted old Tory, as was becoming a man of property and a reader of the leading journal. Crickmore, the tailor, generally sat next a good man, who all his life had battled with a quick temper and a weak stomach, and did kindly acts on the sly, and whose word at any time was as good as ready money. Billy Brunton, a picturesque old fellow, who had been twice round the world, and who OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 21 was supposed to know a lot, but whose con- tribution to the debates consisted of "Hum" and " Ah," and, when he was feeling strongly, ' ' Bosh " was the third. A retired farmer named Jenkins was the fourth, and the fifth Levi Morris, a man who had read more books than the vicar, wrote poetry for his own amuse- ment and then burnt it, and was as much afraid of women as a rabbit is of a weazel. It was this little parliament that really decided the long vexed question of the settlement of a pastor for the Congregational church. For months the congregation had been ministered to by " supplies, with a view to a settlement," but none of them suited one-half of the congregation, and the other half would have been content with any one of the candidates. One read his sermons, another shouted, and the third had what Crickmore termed " the jerks." A fourth was so boldly heterodox that his sermon was more debated than any other that had been preached in the village for years. But at length the choice lay between three candidates, and Crickmore, who was senior deacon, laid the case before the Witenagemot. " There's Pearson, he is a staid man, married, and nine children. He preached on the woman with seven stars. Everybody admits it was a wonderful sermon, full of poetry and illustra- tions. Then Jebson, he's a young man who has had five churches in three years, and that makes against him, I'll admit ; but he is a marvellous preacher, and, according to his own account, a good visitor. You see he stayed with me, and my wife and daughter were taken with 22 ROSES AND THISTLES. him. The account he gave of his own work was remarkable. The other is Chesterton. He is very young, and has not had a charge yet, and so is untried ; but he impressed me as being modest and earnest, although he is not the preacher either of the others are by a long way. But the young folks have fallen in love with him, and if it went by THEIR vote, it would soon be settled. But I'm for Pearson myself, if for no other reason than that his family will help to fill the chapel." " And I," said Dudman (who always differed from Crickmore), " am for Jebson. He can preach Pearson's head off." " He can talk about nothing but himself," said Crickmore. " He had a solid three hours, telling us about his own doings after supper, and would have gone on till four o'clock in the morning if I had not sent him to bed." For three weeks this momentous question was discussed without coming any nearer to an agreement, until Rufus settled it by suggest- ing that as Crickmore wanted Pearson and Dudman wanted Jebson, they should agree to invite neither, but fix on Chesterton, which they did, and to him was given the call. Rufus, one afternoon, was busy in his garden syringing some rose trees. Far down the street he could see a big, awkward lad shambling along, carrying a quart pot in his hand. Every now and then he stuck a finger into the middle of the pot, and then, drawing it forth, quickly inserted it in his mouth and sucked it. Between times he was whistling a Sunday-school hymn. When he got alongside the wall, Rufus stopped OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 23 him. " Hallo ! Billy. Treacle in that jug, eh ? " " Yes, Mr. Wentworth." * ' And what's that you're whistling ? " " Want to be an angel," replied the lad, shamefacedly. " That's a strange kind of mixture, Billy. Want to be an angel, and stealing your mother's treacle. You won't grow wings that way, my lad." ' ' I wonno' stealin', Mister Wentworth. Deed, I wonno ! " ' ' No," replied Rufus, ' * you were taking it and sayin' nothin' ! Well, there isn't much difference, I guess, in the police-courts. But look here, lad, let me give you a bit of advice. * Keep your ringers out of other folks' treacle jars. And tell the truth, lad. Fibbin' and stealin' have sent many a man to the gallows. Did thou ever hear, Billy, that the devil is a fool ? ' " "No, Mr. Wentworth." " Well, he is. The biggest fool going. Why, now, look at this. First he tempts you to stick your finger into the treacle pot, and he tells you nobody 'ull know. Then he leads you to lie about it, but he hadn't gumpshun to warn you to rub the stains from round the corners of your mouth. Why, anybody with eyes can tell you have been tastin' the sweets of sin, lad." Bill took his sleeve, and, wiping his mouth, said, ' ' Well, I didn't take much." " Six licks between here and the corner of the street," replied Rufus. " And all the treacle in the pot binna' worth the lie you told. Here's a penny, lad. Go to Molly Hinton's and 24 ROSES AND THISTLES. buy some mint humbugs. They'll taste as good as treacle and last a bonnie sight longer. I knaw the devil is apt to take you youngsters as a fisherman does a trout, by puttin' his hook in your mouth. But remember this Billy, there are some things sweet to the palate and bitter in the stomach." Rufus returned to his employment, and the lad went on down the street. By and by a man came along the street with a pig in a donkey cart. Rufus hailed him, and again went to the wall. This time with three roses in his hand. ' "Well, John," he said, "and how's the missus ? " " She's very whammy, Rufus," he replied. " It's her back now, and if it binna her back it's her legs, and if it binna her legs it's her arms, and sumtimes it's all on 'um at once. There's only one thing it don't touch, and thet's her tongue." 1 1 Ah ! " replied Rufus, ' ' it's hard for you both, but you mon be patient, John. Patience is a fine thing. Just suffering with your mouth shut. You knaw it's harder far for Martha than it is for you." "Why, aye!" said John dubiously, "I wouldna mind if it was only in the day time, but it's all the neet as well. No sooner do I shut my eyes than she's groanin' and nudgin' my elbow to make her a cup o' tay, or git her medicin, or summat. But it conna last long, that's a comfort." ' Well, John, just take her these roses with my compliments, and tell her to read the verse I've fastened to them. It's a fine, comfortin' OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 25 bit o' scripture thet, c Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you.' And here's a bit of silver to buy a chicken for her." " Thank you," said John. " It's very kind of you. I'm sure. There binna many that ever trubbles to ax if she's got a mouth. And I'm just takin' the pig to sell to pay the rent." " And a fine pig she is. How much are you askin' for her." ' 1 Well, she's worth seven pounds of onybody's money, but Mr. Bailey, the butcher, he knaws that I'm fast, so he says he'll only give me five pund ten, and I mun take it or leave it. It binna near her worth as you can see wi' your own eyes. But the agent won't wait any longer. He says he has had his orders from her Ladyship. The time is out, and nobody's wanted that don't pay. The meal and taters that pig has eaten would nearly fill a coal-pit. It's very hard. The butcher is a tight un. He'd skin a flea fur its hide. But I mun let her go, I reckon, or be turned into the road, and the wife's frettin' her inside to fiddle-strings about it." " Well," said Rufus, " have you promised him the pig at his price." " Not yet, but " Well, then," Rufus went on, " you can tell Bailey that you've an offer for the pig at six pound fifteen, and if he dunno care to take her you bring her back. But if I knaw bacon when I see it he'll take it." " You dunno mean " began John. " Ay," said Rufus ; "I dunno want an animal like that any more than I want a hippo- potamus, but I knaw the value of a pig, and 26 ROSES AND THISTLES. I know Bailey. If lie wunno take her, I'll see what I can do." An hour later John called round to say that the butcher had bought the pig at seven pounds. " I thought he would," chuckled Rufus. 1 'What did he say ?" 11 He said that if you had your finger in the pie it was spoiled for his eatin'. But he will be square wi' you before he's done." " Yes," replied Rufus, " Bailey is one of those sharp men that cuts himself. He's so keen makin' money that he forgets there is a line between honest and dishonest profit. The pig was worth seven pounds, and he knew it." Shortly after John was gone, an open carriage, drawn by a splendid pair of bays came along, in which there sat an elderly lady and a young man. When the carriage was opposite the garden the lady exclaimed, ' ' Oh ! how lovely. Do stop, John, a moment, and let me look at the roses." Rufus guessed aright that this was Lady Wincanton, who had lately purchased Lord Forrester's estate, and that the young man was her son, just returned from service in Egypt. When the carriage stopped, Rufus quickly snapped off a number of roses, and fastening one of the tags to them on which was the text, " Behold I come quickly and My reward is with Me, to give every man according as his work shall be," he approached the wall with a bow. '* Would your ladyship kindly accept a small bouquet ? " he asked. " I've cut the best before, for this is one of the market days, but there are worse roses than these." OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 27 "Oh! thank you," said the lady, smiling, 11 I think they are perfect." " I'll not say that, but they are the nighest things to perfection there is on earth. But they have their thorns to remind us that even beauty may sometimes be dangerous." " Who owns this wonderful garden ? " asked the lady, not accustomed to such moralising as Rufus indulged in. " Why, God Almighty owns it," he replied, " and I'm his under steward. To tell you the truth, ma'am, I never like to hear folks talk about owning anything, but specially sich things as land, and trees and flowers. The very last time I was up at the Hall, Lord Forrester talked about HIS park, and HIS deer, and HIS farmers, and HIS keepers and labourers, as if the earth and the very souls and bodies of men belonged to him. I said to him, ' My Lord, why don't you run a chalk line round the moon and the stars, and say they are yours as well ? ' He laughed, for he knew me, and brought some money out of his breeches' pocket, and said, 1 Money, Wentworth ; money will do many things, but it won't buy the stars.' And I says, 1 No, my lord, nor what's above the stars. Neither will it buy more than one hundred years' tenancy of what is on earth, or in the earth.' And a fortnight after he died, and, like the rest of us, he went away open-handed. I saw Jenny Kerwood makin' his shroud, and I advised her to put some big pockets in it. ' But,' she said, ' it would be no use, except to put his title deeds in, and the lawyers and his creditors wudno' let him take even them to the grave.' And 28 ROSES AND THISTLES. now your Ladyship has bought the place, I hope that you'll remember not to be hard with the poor or oppress the hireling in his wages." Lady Wincanton winced, for she had pur- chased the estate cheap, with the idea of her son settling down as a county magnate, but she was not prepared for spending money on im- proving the property or advancing the wages of the men. Already she had been approached by the agent on the subject of many much- needed repairs and improvements, and had most peremptorily told him her mind. Lord Forrester's rule had been one of iron, but Lady Wincanton's was likely to prove one of steel. Rufus had some inkling as to how matters stood, and hence his plain speaking. During this conversation her son sat twisting the ends of his moustache, seemingly taking no interest in what was going forward. He hated the country, and could not think why his mother had been induced to buy Stourbridge Hall, which, he declared, was fifty miles from every- where. But his mother had her reasons, some of which she gave, but the most important of which she withheld. He, after a fortnight's suffering from ennui, was longing to be back in London, where he had in three months spent a peer's income, and was recognised as one of the fastest young bloods of the West End. Some scandal about him and a young actress had reached his mother's ears, and she, being a woman of strong mind, at once took action, bought Stourbridge, and dragged her son away from the gaiety of the city to what he called " rural incarceration." OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 29 He was getting tired of the old man's preach- ing, when suddenly there came on the scene a vision of beauty which caused him to open his eyes and ejaculate ' ' Be-gad ! " Emerging from among the trees was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had made a wreath of rose-buds, and put it on her head, while a glorious "Dijon" was pinned in her dress, and she stepped like a queen. " I beg your pardon, papa," she exclaimed, " I did not know you were engaged. Here is a telegram, and mamma thought I should bring it to you at once." " All right, Gwen," he said. " Thank you, dear." During this conversation Lady Wincanton had sat with wonder in her eyes, looking at Gwen, who had slightly bowed to the occupants of the carriage. " Your daughter, I presume, Mr. " " Wentworth's my name ; but everyone calls me Rufus. No, your ladyship, the Lord never give me the honour of havin' children o' my own. I wish she was. She's just the best and prattiest bit of flesh and blood goin'. She is Ai at Lloyd's." " Well," replied her ladyship, " I must come again some day and have a look through your garden, and then I may get an introduction to Miss . Ah. what did you [say her name is ? ' " She is Gwen to us, and she writes Went- worth when she has any occasion for a second name though that is not her name. But she thinks it is, and she's carried that label ever 3 o ROSES AND THISTLES. since she was as high as a gillyflower. We shall be glad to see your ladyship, if you can put up with common folks and plain ways." The carriage then drove off, and Lady Win- canton turned to her son and laughingly said, " What an amusing old man, to be sure. He is quite an original. But the girl is certainly a rustic beauty. I must see if I can engage her for my maid." Her son nodded his approval. His mother thought he was indifferent. Had she known it he was already formulating a plan for a private call on Rufus, in order that he might again see Gwen, whose beauty had made a great im- pression on his mind. He had come to the conclusion that country life might not be after all entirely unendurable. Rufus read his telegram, and then went into the house with a smiling face. " Well, Gwen," he said, " what do you think of Lady Wincanton and her son ? " " I barely got a look at them, Dad. But I thought her dress was rather loud, and I wouldn't be seen in that bonnet of hers for five pounds ! " ' ' Aye ! " laughed Rufus, ' ' how much a woman sees at a glance. I hardly noticed she had a bonnet on. And what about her son ? " * ' Oh ! " said Gwen, ' ' with his rings, and waxen moustache, and patent leather boots, he looked the very embodiment of shallow conceit." ' ' Dear me ! " exclaimed Rufus, ' * Poor young fellow ! Shining at the wrong end, was he, dear ? For quickness, there's nothing to beat a woman, not even greased lightning. OVER THE GARDEN WALL. 31 Why, I do declare, you're Uncle Joe's comin'. Put on the kettle, my dear." At that moment there entered a sharp little man, who, in appearance, was a pocket edition of Rufus. " Our Rufe's got all the bones and I got all the brains," was his characteristic reply when anybody alluded to their respective sizes. He was the best known man for fifty miles round, an the mention of his name always raised a smile. "Hallo Rufe!" he exclaimed. "Guess your job's gone now and you'll have to join the unemployed. The new vicar binna going to have you trottin' round the flock, he's going to do the work himself. You've been Bishop of Summerton long enough, and it's time somebody else got an innings. I've had serious thoughts of settin' up in that line myself, only I've not butter enough on my tongue. But they say the new man is a tartar for work." " Thank God for that," replied Rufus. " He'll find plenty to do in this parish. " Had your tea, Joe ? " " No, nor dinner either," said Joe, " and I'm feelin' awful slack about the third button of my waistcoat. I havn't two women to coddle me at home like you, and often miss a meal rather than be bothered to get it. It saves time, and trouble, and good vittals." ' ' You should get married, Uncle," said Gwen. " That would be like cutting your foot off because you are bothered with a corn," retorted Joe. " The remedy's worse than the disease. Marrying and hanging go together. The one is for fools and the other for knaves." 32 ROSES AND THISTLES. 11 Joe," said his brother, " did thou ever hear the story of the fox and the grapes ? " " Ay," replied Joe, " and of the fox who lost his tail and tried to persuade all the rest that their tails were as useless as warts on your nose, or bunions on your feet. Say grace, Rufe, and let's get to business. Those hot cakes are just crying to be eaten. But cut it short, man ; the shorter the grace, the longer the meal. I feel like a balloon wi' all the gas out." * ' Humph," said Rufus, * ' if all the gas was out of you, what would there be left ? " " Brains enough to stock two parishes like this," answered his brother. " That's the reason I'm a bachelor." YOU LL GO NO FURTHER UNTIL YOU HAVE EMPTIED YOUR POCKETS." Chap. 3. CHAPTER III. A NONCONFORMIST BISHOP. " He bore his great commission in his look." DRYDEN. RUFUS was a lay preacher amongst the Primitive Methodists, and a popular one into the bargain. His unconventional style, quaint sayings, and original illustrations, captured the attentions of the country people, and he was always sure of a crowded congregation. Beloved and trusted by all who knew him, daily adorn- ing the doctrine he preached, wise in council, a sagacious and courageous leader, he was everywhere known by the title which his brother Joe had first coined for him " the Methodist Bishop." He walked many miles to preach the Gospel he loved. His Bible and hymn book were his constant companions, he knew them from cover to cover, studying them on his long journeys on foot, until he could recite many chapters through without a mistake. " Put some flowers among your wheat," he said to one of the ministers whose sermons were thoughtful and good, but very heavy. ' ' That's God's plan. The wheat is bonnie enough, but the flowers are bonnier, and so the Heavenly Father sticks a scarlet poppy here and a yellow 34 ROSES AND THISTLES. marigold there for the sake of variety. ' Weeds, nowt but weeds,' our Joe says ; but they are there on purpose. They are God's illustrations ; bits of colour to give relief to the green or gold as it may be. Your sermons are wonderful, but they are too much of a much-ness ; stick in a few flowers, mon, if only for the sake of the wimmin and the bairns." And that which he advised others he practised himself. " When I see the folks shuttin' their eyes, and opening their mouths, or counting the flies on the ceilin', or huntin' for peppermints to keep themselves awake, I know I must waken myself up, and so I stick in a bit of a story or illustration, and they rise to it like trout to the bait on a summer's evening." He was returning home from a far-away appointment one evening, and when night came on he had still six long miles to walk ere he reached home ; but bravely he trudged on, singing " Christ He sits on Zion's Hill, He receives poor sinners still," when from out of a coppice an evil looking man sprang and barred the way. 11 Well, my lad, what do you want ? " asked Rufus. ' ' All you have ; and be quick about it," was the insolent reply, accompanied by an oath. ' ' You shouldna' swear, friend ; I always refuse to talk to a swearer. I'd as soon eat my dinner off a dirty plate as hold conversation with a man that swears. So I must wish you good-night, and a clean heart, and go and leave you." A NONCONFORMIST BISHOP. 35 " You'll go no further until you have emptied your pockets," said the thief; " so out wi' your valuables if you've got any." " Valuables, mon," replied Rufus, " I've the most valuable thing in the world in my pocket it's more precious than rubies." "Rubies!" replied the astonished thief; " what are you doin' with rubies r " " Nay," said Rufus, " I didna say I had got rubies, but something that is more precious than rubies. Mon, I've a guide in my pocket that tells where there is a pearl hidden that is worth a thousand rubies." " Now, then, owd man, no gammon wi' me, or it will be wuss for you. If you've got owt worth havin', out it comes. I dunna want to be here all neet palaverin'. There will be somebody comin' soon, and I want no inter- ference." " There is somebody here now, only you canna see them. God is here, and the angels are here, and I'm just as safe as if I were asleep in bed at home. But this is what I've been talking about " and he pulled his pocket Bible out and presented it to the thief, who no sooner saw what it was than he uttered a volley of oaths. Rufus began to walk away, but was speedily stopped by the strong rough hand of the tramp gripping his shoulder. " I told you I should leave you if you swore again," he said. " Your tongue, I fear, friend, is a dirty one, and a dirty tongue means a dirty soul. But you don't care for my Bible. Well, hand it me back. I should be sorry to part wi' it, for it was given me by a minister who is now 36 ROSES AND THISTLES. in heaven. But if you would have read it " " Have you any money fc " broke in the thief impatiently. " Preaching binna in my line." " Ay, I have a threepenny-bit wi' a hole in, I took out of the collection box and put a better one in its place ; for I greatly dislike to see anything that is not as good as it might be offered to the Lord. Yet there are some folk who, if they have a bent or bad coin, put it into the collection as if He who formed the eye could not see, and He that considers the heart could not understand. And I have twopence in copper and a half-sovereign that is all." " Hand them over," said the thief. " You are welcome to them, friend. I hope you will spend them wisely, and " " Your watch," interrupted the thief " give me your watch." 11 Well," replied Rufus, " I'm a little partial to it and am loath to part with it, for I've had it many years ; but if you are determined to have it, here you are. It is not a bad watch if you allow for it gaining nigh three-quarters of an hour almost every day. I put it right last night, so it is three-quarters fast now ; it will be an hour and a half to-morrow night, and on Thursday when it is one o'clock it will be some- where nigh on to a quarter to five. Take it, friend, and let it remind you that, although time is measured by minutes and hours, eternity is not." " Anything else left, eh ? Empty your pockets." " Yes," said Rufus, I've a pocket-knife with one blade that won't cut and two that will ; A NONCONFORMIST BISHOP. 37 also a bunch of keys, of no use to anybody but the owner. I've also a paper full of acid drops for the youngsters, for I never like to pass a child wi'oot givin' it something to chew. It's the nature of young things to be sucking. And that is all I have on me, for which I am thank- ful for your sake, for the more you take the heavier will be the burden when you come to cross the Jordan. Now you have cleared me out, let me give you a piece of advice, though I fear it will be like casting sugar into the sea. But I'll risk it, seeing that we arc commanded to sow beside all waters. Give up this business it will land you in jail here, and somewhere worse than jail hereafter. You'll be heartily welcome to all you've taken from me if you would only promise to live an honest life henceforth. Now let us pray." Rufus took off his hat and began a prayer for " this poor lost soul " who was living in open defiance of the law of God and his country, but when he opened his eyes the man was gone. The next morning when Rufus went into his greenhouse he found all his belongings in a neat little parcel, and with it a note scribbled in pencil : " I'm going to take your advice and chuck it. It's a pretty rotten business at the best. My last theft is a rose from your garden, which I shall keep in remembrance of our meeting. Ta-ta. B. B. B." " Bless the Lord," exclaimed Rufus, " this is true repentance. But I wish he had stopped for his breakfast. I'm glad to get the watch back, but I would have given him the money as a start towards an honest life," 38 ROSES AND THISTLES. Three years afterwards Rufus received from Australia a fine new lever watch wrapped in a piece of paper on which there was written : " What time is it by the old ticker now ? I have found the pearl. B. B. B." Though this was the most notable case of conversion in his experience, yet there were many others, for he preached in order to bring men to spiritual decision, and was disappointed unless there was some visible token that he had not toiled in vain. He studied closely how to arrest the careless, and it is safe to say there was not an unconverted man for miles round with whom he had not sought to have con- versation on spiritual matters. And this was done so naturally and deftly that nobody felt there was any incongruity in the way in which he brought in the great themes that relate to the spiritual life. His religion was not merely a part of the man it was himself. To him every day was a Sabbath and every duty sacred. The secularities of life were lifted into an at- mosphere which made them holy. No youth or maiden ever thought of leaving Summerton without bidding Mr. Wentworth " Good-bye," and each one carried away a bouquet, and oftentimes a more substantial token of his interest in their welfare. Those in trouble naturally sought his advice ; the sick and the dying sent for him to pray with them. He was perfectly fearless in his advocacy of what he believed to be right, and he rebuked the rich for their follies as readily as the poor for their sins. Nobody had a more sincere admiration for A NONCONFORMIST BISHOP. 39 him than his brother Joe, but that did not exempt him from his biting, sarcastic tongue, which spared nobody. " Our Rufe has got all the religion of the family, and I've got all the original sin," he once told the Vicar. " It works that way sometimes. I take after the l he ' side of the house, and he takes after the ' she ' side. Our mother, what there was of her never more than seven stones at her top weight was as good as a woman can be who is tied to a man who is too idle to work, and hasna' courage enough to steal. He was nearly a cart load, but he was far too fond of fat bacon and beer to figure as much of a saint. When mother died he cleared out, and left Rufe and me to go to the work- house, only I ran away, and have been in most parts of the world since then. I dunno how it will come out at last, but it seems to me Rufe started wi' ten chances to one of getting to heaven as compared to me. There's something not quite square about it, only I canno' quite figger it out. It seems to me one of the things you parsons dunno' understand is that while an ounce of grace will save some men, it will take a ton to lift others over the first cloud in the direction of Heaven." " Ever hear how Rufe cured Jim Hutchins of 'tato stealin' ? " 11 No. Well, it happened in the long winter we had ten years ago. Jim was out of work, and the missus had just presented him with a new baby, and I guess they hadn't much to give to beggars. Rufe saw one morning that his 'tato pile in the garden had been tampered 40 ROSES AND THISTLES. with. He said nowt, but slept after that with one eye open. Understand ? One neet he heard the squeak of a wheelbarrow and up he gets, slips his clothes on, and out of doors in the time it would take a flea to jump, and there sure enough was a man working like a Trojan fillin' the barrow wi' 'tato's. Rufe got near enuff to see that it was Jim Hutchins, and so he jumps over the garden wall, and hurries to the top of the hill, knowing Jim must go that way home. By and bye he hears him comin' and goes half way down to meet him, whistlin'. " Stop poor sinner, stop and think, Before you further go." " f Good morning, Jim,' he says. ' You are about early.' " * No earlier than yourself,' said Jim, a bit flabbergasted. " c Oh,' says Rufe, ' I like to come out some- times when all the rest of the world is sleepin', it helps reflection. An' then one sees strange things sometimes. Bats and owls and other creatures who love darkness rather than light because their deeds are evil. But you've got a big load there, Jim, and as I'm in no hurry to get home I dunno' mind if I give you a push up the hill." Jim tried to make all sorts of excuses, but Rufe was between the shafts of the barrow in a twinkling, and he trundled it right to Jim's door. " ' These seem nice pertatoes, Jim,' he said, picking one up and examining it in the moon- light. ' Sherry-blues, eh ? Well, the next time A NONCONFORMIST BISHOP. 41 thou wants a few 'taters, Jim, begin at the other end of the pile, and thou will find " flukes." They bile better than "skerries" and are mealier. Good neet, Jim, and gi' my regards to the missus.' Next morning a little lad called at Jim's with three pounds of bacon and a note ( Would he please accept this wi' Rufe's com- pliments, as 'tatoes wi'oot bacon are poor feedin'." " It fetched Jim, that did. He was at Rufe's house in haaf an hour wi' tears in his eyes and made a clean breast of it. I dunno what Rufe said to him, but he joined the Methodies, and somebody (whose initials were, I think, ' R. W.') helped him to buy a hoss and cart, and he did well, did Jim, and is now living on his own little farm. Funny chap is Rufe. His way binna mine, but you see he's a can- didate for a front place in the choir up yonder, while I'm thinkin' of applying for the position of gatekeeper, so that if I get tired of the music I can slip out and see how they are gettin' on at the other place." CHAPTER IV. THE COMING OF THE CHILD. " An infant crying in the night, An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry." TENNYSON. IT was nineteen years since that memorable morning in June when Rufus Wentworth re- ceived the unexpected present of a baby girl. He had risen very early to cut flowers for the market, and he found it sleeping as cosily as a bird in its nest inside the tool shed. A bundle of sweet hay had been spread in his garden wheelbarrow and the child lay on the top, wrapped in a Paisley shawl, and dressed in a simple gown of spotless white linen, tied at the shoulders with blue ribbons. A piece of paper was pinned to its dress on which there was the one word " Gwendoline." That was all. Rufus gazed at the amazing sight for a little while, and then hurried into the house and called his wife. " Get up, lass," he cried, " the angels have been in the garden and have left one of their number behind." To Lucy Wentworth it had been a silent sorrow that hers was a childless home. She had a passionate love for children, and the THE COMING OF THE CHILD. 43 hunger of motherhood leapt into her eyes when- ever she sat in the chapel and saw other women bringing their babies to be baptized. As for Rufus, children gathered round him as bees do around a honey pot. His pockets were apt to get sticky with humbugs and other sweetmeats he carried about with him. The worthy couple stood looking at the un- conscious little one in silence for a few moments, and then Lucy stooped down and gently kissed the child. For a week unavailing inquiries were made in all directions with a view to finding out how the child came into the garden and to whom it belonged. But by that time the little one had crept into the heart of the foster mother in such a way that a dread stole over her lest the child should be taken away ; a fear that someone should come and claim it. At the end of a month Rufus declared that if by any chance the child should be taken away it would break his wife's heart. He would sometimes wake up in the night to find her clutching the helpless little mite tightly to her, as if her very dreams were haunted by the thought of separation. But months passed and gradually the startled look died from her eyes whenever a stranger presented himself at the gate. And so the child grew and they called her by the name on her dress, and she never knew but what Rufus and Lucy were her father and mother. An attractive child, she developed into a beautiful maiden, who turned the heads of all the village youths, and on the authority of Rufus she was as good as she was beautiful. 44 ROSES AND THISTLES. Nature had been liberal in her gifts, and along with a winsome personality she possessed a very good soprano voice of unusual sweetness and compass. The dream of her life was to be a great singer ; a career Rufus dreaded for her because of its accompanying temptations. But she was in great demand for concerts and enter- tainments, and always was sure of an enthusiastic reception and a vigorous encore. The latter, Joe (Uncle Joe, as she always called him) always took credit for. " They would never have called you back but for me," he would say. " I led the clappin' and stampin', and they couldna' for shame but follow. I have seldom heard you do worse than to-neet, it was just somethin' atween the skreekin' of a wheelbarrow trundle and the grindin' of a circular saw. But our folk like to encourage local talent, such as it is. Now, if I were to sing " " I'll never go with you any more," Gwen would exclaim. " You are a crochety, con- ceited, fault-finding old man, there." " Wait till you are asked, my dear," he would reply. " I make myself come just to keep up the credit of the family. I dunno wonder our Rufe has lost all his hair if you often sing at home. There," he continued, as she boxed his ears, " that comes of being a candid critic. If I buttered you up, and told you that Jenny Lind wasn't a bit of a piper where you come, you would just be suited, and it would be * Uncle Joe this, and Uncle Joe that,' and kisses would be as cheap as sour apples, but because I'm a truthful man I get treated wuss than a wall-eyed hoss that wunno draw a bit." THE COMING OF THE CHILD. 45 But Joe would straightway have knocked down the first man who said a word either against Gwen or her singing. It was a pastime he kept exclusively for himself. He regularly accused Rufus of spoiling the lass, and the latter always retorted that " if she could have been spoiled Joe would have had that crime on his conscience long ago." To keep herself in pocket-money Gwen had a few pupils in the farmhouses around the village to whom she taught music. She was returning from giving a lesson one fine afternoon, and having plenty of time on her hands she perched herself on a stile, and soon was engrossed in reading " Ivanhoe." She was startled by a manly voice, which asked " Please, miss, can you tell me if I can reach Stourbridge Hall by this path ? " On looking up she at once recognised Harold Wincanton standing gazing at her. " I beg your pardon, sir," she said blushing prettily and jumping down from her seat. " I did not notice you coming across the meadow." " It must be something very interesting," he said, " that so absorbed your attention. I feel I owe you an apology for having come upon the scene and broken the spell." "On the contrary, I had no right to be sitting where it was possible to be an obstruc- tion to the public. Yes, this is the pathway to the Hall gates. You keep straight on till you come to the fourth field and then take the road to the left." "Thank you," he replied. " I think we have met before, have we not ? " 46 ROSES AND THISTLES. " Yes, once, about a week ago." " Ay, yes, I remember. My mother has talked of nothing since but the beauty of the roses your father was kind enough to present to her, and I was promising myself an early visit in order to try and secure her some more." " I am sure my father would be delighted to send her some," said Gwen. " I will ask him to do so." " Pray do not trouble," he said. "I will call and then I can pay him for them. f ' Oh, dad would never think of taking money for his flowers," answered Gwen. " He never sells any, except those he sends to market ; and he only sends when he has so many that he does not know what to do with them." " I see. He is quite a public benefactor. It is surely a novel and interesting way for bene- volence to find expression growing roses for the public good. It is something new in the way of charity, and is certainly an example worth imitating." " Oh, Dad is nothing if not original," replied Gwen. " That furnishes another reason why I should call, for since I have been down here the people have seemed to me to be as much alike as Egyptian babes, and the roads so resemble one another that it seemed hardly to matter which way one goes. It would be a little refreshing to light upon something original." " I fear you have not much love for the country, sir. To me every bit of the landscape has its own charm, and I think the scenery around Summerton is decidedly beautiful." THE COMING OF THE CHILD. 47 " Well," he replied, " I cannot truthfully say that I have yet become passionately fond of it. I entirely agree with Dr. Johnson, that one green field is very much like another, and that London is the finest city in the world." ' ' I have never been to London, and so cannot express an opinion. I do not care for large towns and crowds of people. But I am detain- ing you, sir," she added, blushing ; ' c so I wish you good-day." " Not at all," he replied " The fact is, I find time hanging so heavily on my hands that I am grateful to anyone who helps me to pass an hour, without wondering how I am going to get through the rest part of the day." " That is strange," said Gwen. " I think the time passes so very quickly. But that reminds me I have some pupils expecting me at three. I must hurry off, for I never like to keep them waiting." And so, almost before he realised it, she slipped past him, and was hurrying down the meadow path. He stood gazing after her for a time, and then lesiurely strolled homewards, whistling a song out of the latest opera. In two days he called at the Rose Garden, ostensibly to get some flowers for his mother, really to see Gwen. But in this he was disappointed, for she had gone to the Red Acres, and, instead, he had to content himself with making friends with Rufus. He professed he was fond of roses, flattered the old man to the top of his bent, and before he left promised to call again soon, and carried home the most magnificent bouquet of roses he had 48 ROSES AND THISTLES. ever seen. Truth to tell, he did not care to be bothered with it, but he could not very well reconcile his expression of newly-found love for flowers with a refusal to take them. 11 Here, mater," he cried, when he got home, " I stumbled across that queer old fellow who grows roses ; he insisted on sending you a bundle as big as a besom, with his regards. He's the oddest old fish I ever saw ; wanted to know if I was converted, and recommended me to read the Bible every morning. It was too funny for anything." " Oh, how lovely ! " exclaimed her ladyship. " I never saw anything more beautiful. But here is something tied to it " ; and she lifted a label, and read : " Blessed is he that con- sidereth the poor ; the Lord shall remember him in the time of trouble." Rufus, when telling his wife of the visit, said : ' ' He does not seem a bad sort, but he appeared to think I was like a flounder that needs a lot of butter to fry in. He laid it on with a trowel. His tongue seems to be lubricated wi' sweet oil. I might have been a young lady to whom he was goin' to propose marriage. 'Spect he thowt I had a big bump of self-esteem. But I guess I'm too old to be blown up much wi' fine words. I remember an old preacher used to say, ' A flatterer is second cousin to a liar.' " CHAPTER V. A GOOD SHEPHERD AND A REFRACTORY SHEEP. " For he had sworn x in face of God And man, to deal sincerely with their souls ; To preach the Gospel for the Gospel's sake, Had sworn to hate and put away all pride." POLLOCK. THE Rev. Bedford Bird, Vicar of Summerton, had but recently come to the village. His pre- decessor, the Rev. Wilford Cross, had grossly neglected his parish, made no pretensions to preaching, and had no sympathy with the plain, country folk to whom he had to minister. He spoke of them to his friends as " clodhoppers " and " chawbacons," and addressed them as though he considered it an infinite condescension to be troubled with them at all. He had a private income derived from a brewery, and not infrequently, it was said, imbibed very freely of the liquor that was produced there. Scandal gathered around his name, and it was carried to the Bishop, who had on more than one occasion been approached with a view to his deposition when he suddenly died. He had his good qualities was generous, kindly disposed to the poor but had greatly missed his vocation, and was as fit to be a parish minister as Eli's sons were to be priests. So ROSES AND THISTLES. But his successor was another type of man, conscientious to the point of scrupulousness ; a fine scholar, who had won distinction at Oxford ; a Christian gentleman, and a saint. Like his predecessor, he was a bachelor, and his shyness, in the presence of women, was one of his peculiar characteristics. " He treats every woman as if she were an angel, and was afraid of rubbing against her wings," wrote Miss Peck, in a con- fidential letter to a friend. Jennie Brown, an old woman living in a mud-house, declared that when he called to see her, and she was lifting the big iron pot from the fire, he insisted on doing it for her, and told her she must have a copper in which to boil her clothes, as it was not fit for a woman to lift a big pot ; and forthwith sent Jones, the bricklayer, to attend to it. Soon he was known all over the parish, and his " Peace be to this house," became a familiar and welcome sound to the cottager. There was no home in which sorrow came but the vicar went ; no affliction but he was there to comfort and help. A guileless, child-hearted man, just such an one as Lazarus of Bethany, whom Jesus loved. He delighted in the country, the old ivy covered church, the vicarage smoth- ered with flowers, all its quaint gables hidden away among laburnum and hawthorn, and had no higher ambition than to serve his generation to the full measure of his ability, and then to sleep in the quiet churchyard among the people to whom he had ministered. He found the Metho- dist Church aggressively vigorous, but instead of girding at it as his predecessor had done, he gladly recognised the good done, and welcomed A GOOD SHEPHERD. 51 his Nonconformist neighbours as allies, and soon was on the best of terms with them, and especially Rufus Wentworth the Methodist Bishop. " He'll do," was the remark of the latter. " Mr. Cross was as narrow as a herrin's back, but Mr. Bird is as wide as a twenty-acre field. He admits that it will take a pretty big door to let all the Methodists into heaven, but Mr. Cross seemed to think there would only be one or two let in as samples, and by special favour of the Bishops." " Well, Dad," said Gwen, " narrowness and exclusiveness is not confined to one sect. I heard Chidlow saying the other Sunday night, in his prayer, ' that the Methodists were the salt of the earth, and the light of the world,' and when I told Uncle Joe, he said ' he thought the Lord would be a bit surprised at the in- formation coming from the quarter it did.' ' " Uncle Joe's sayings are not fit for a young lady to repeat," said Mrs. Wentworth. " He gets more irreverent every day. He declared that if the vicar is half as good as he looks there is nobody fit in this parish for him to associate with, except himself and Billy Bowden the idiot." Rufus laughed until he shook again, and nearly choked himself. Just then a knock came to the door, and a " May I come in ? " was followed by the portly person of the vicar himself. * ' Ay, come in, sir," said Rufus, blushing like a child caught in the act of some petty theft, as he tried to straighten his countenance. " Here, 52 ROSES AND THISTLES. Gwen, reach the vicar a chair. We are all Methodists at this house, as I daresay you know, but we are right glad to see you. This is my wife, the youngest and bonniest woman in the county for her age, who manages me ; and this is Gwen who manages both of us." " For shame, father," exclaimed Mrs. Went- worth. " It's true as the Gospel," chuckled Rufus. " Well, sir, and how do you like the parish ? " " I like the vicarage very much, and the people still better, sir," replied the vicar. " I am hoping to be very happy and useful here." " Good," exclaimed Rufus. " It's a pretty corner of the Lord's vineyard. I'll not deny that there's nettles and weeds here and there, but the soil's good, only, if you will allow me to say, a bit neglected. Mr. Cross didn't take kindly to country ways and country folk, and so our people have grown rather slack and careless, especially the young uns." " If all I hear is true," replied the vicar, " that is not your fault, Mr. Wentworth, for wherever I go I hear of your visiting the sick, and warning the careless." " Why," said Rufus, " somebody had to look after the sheep, when the shepherd forgot 'em, and so I did my best. But I'm glad that you've come to take the responsibility off my shoulders." " May I hope, Mr. Wentworth, that there will be no slackening of interest on your part. If so, the parish stands to lose instead of gaining by my presence." " I'll not say," said Rufus, " that I don't A GOOD SHEPHERD. 53 like the work. My brother Joe says that I'm like Father Flynn ' Checking the crazy ones, Coazing the aisy ones, Lifting the lazy ones On wid the stick.' Have you met with Joe yet ? " 11 I don't think I have had the pleasure. I have met with so many new faces and new names since I came that I cannot remember all of them."