Half Title
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 List of Illustrations

Group Title: dream chintz
Title: The Dream chintz
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00003598/00001
 Material Information
Title: The Dream chintz
Physical Description: 118, <10> p., <1> leaf of plates : ill. ; 18 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Mackarness, Henry S., 1826-1881
Wright, W. N ( Publisher )
Nicol, William, 1777-1857 ( Printer )
Godwin, James, d. 1876 ( Illustrator )
Jackson, Mason, 1819-1903 ( Engraver )
Measom, George S ( Engraver )
Dalziel, Edward, 1817-1905 ( Engraver )
Hammond, G ( Engraver )
Publisher: W. N. Wright
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: W. Nicol
Publication Date: 1851
Subject: Family -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Courtship -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Fairies -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1851   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1851
Genre: novel   ( marcgt )
Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues   ( rbgenr )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Statement of Responsibility: by the author of "A trap to catch a sunbeam" ; with illustrations by James Godwin.
General Note: Publisher's catalogue: <10> p. at end.
General Note: Ill. engraved by E. Dalziel, Mason Jackson, and G. Hammond, and G. Meason.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00003598
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: ltqf - AAA4978
notis - ALH3946
oclc - 12728683
alephbibnum - 002233537

Table of Contents
    Half Title
        Page i
        Page ii
    Front Matter
        Page iii
        Page iv
    Title Page
        Page v
        Page vi
        Page vii
        Page viii
        Page ix
        Page x
    List of Illustrations
        Page xi
        Page xii
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Full Text





























having been designed

the recollections




a dream, is a

was related to

the Author by an


and valued


and the really so called Dream Chintz,"



an extraordinary


may probably




an Octogenarian.























Mason Jackson.

Mason Jackson.

Da ziel.




Mason Jackson.

Mason Jackson.





L land glade is

brightly illu-




minated by a stream of light from a moon
shining with all the lustre of a summer night,
though its rays glisten on the crystal gems,
which the frost has hung amongst the leafless
trees. There is a stillness round, "Earth seems
hushed in an Angel's lap into a breathe
sleep so still that we can only say of things,
they be."
Suddenly the silene is broken by footsteps
trampling on the fallen leaves, which, rendered
crisp by the frost, make a low crunching sound
and tell tales of intruders in that silent glade
Voices murmur softly, and parting the branches
which have overgrown the path, two beings
emerge into the moonlight. One is a tall
gaunt lad of about fifteen, with long legs
which seem so weak and slender, that they

bend beneath his weight.
loose upon his shoulders,

His fair hair hangs
and in his large blue


eyes there is a strange wild expression, yet so
joyous, that his shuffling gait seems at variance
with the brightness of his face, and the buoy-
ancy of his manner. His companion is some
ten years his senior, and, though his counte-
nance beams with intelligence, there is such
deep sorrow and care in its every line, that it
forms a striking contrast to the.lad by his
Hush!" said the latter, holding up his
finger, "talk very gently or we shall frighten
them away; do you see that ring there on the
grass, that's where they dance, look Hugh."
"I see," answered Hugh, "but," he con-
tinued smiling, "it is very cold for Fairies, I
think they will scarcely come out such weather."
"Pshaw!" answered the boy impatiently,
4Fairies do not think about weather, they
will come I tell you;" he said, holding up his


finger and speaking in a decided manner, "they
come on New Year's Eve to tell what they
have all been doing during the past year, and
receive from their Queen fresh orders for the
next. Oh! they are such good little things,
so industrious, so kind, and they do help people
so help them out of all their troubles, at least
those people who deserve it, such as try to get
on themselves, and to help one another, and
that are kind to birds and beasts and insects -
for do you know THEY are sometimes Fairies
themselves. I would not tread on a worm or
hurt, indeed, any insect for the world."
No poor boy," said his companion kindly
patting him on the shoulder,--" you would
not harm anything I know."
"Hush!" exclaimed the boy, interrupting
him, as the moon which had been shadowed by
a cloud broke forth again, don't speak, there
they are!"


Again the same kind, yet sceptical smile stole
over the young man's face; but he ceased
speaking in obedience to the boy's command.
There was a moment's pause, and then Walter
said in a low, eager whisper, with his large eyes
distended and fixed upon the Fairies' ring -
"That's the Queen with her bright crown,
and see how she is giving diadems to all those
who have been at work all the long year; --
now wait, and you'll see all those go away, and
she will call others to her and tell them what
they must do. Some she sends to the sick,
some to the poor, some to the wretched, and

then on New Year's day,
well and minded all her or
stay in Fairy land always!
jewelled crowns like her o

if they


ders, she
s, and gi
wn, only

so bright. Those outside the
wings drooping and no crowns



ring, with their
on their heads,


are such as have done mischief in the world in-
stead of good. They are all banished; she will
not have them in her bright land, do you see ?
Now stay Hugh, in a moment you'll see all
those who are going on their different errands
fly away--look! look! therehhey go. Hark
what a rushing sound their wings make."
And, gazing up into the blue vault of
Heaven, he pointed to a light feathery cloud
which was scudding along, and then slightly
shuddering, he put his arm through his friend's,
and said,
"We will go if you like now -it is cold."
Hugh who had been standing by his side in
silent abstraction for some moments, roused by
the boy's action answered,
"Yes, Walter, my boy, it is indeed cold, we
are very silly to stay here at alL Let us go."
And again they pushed their way through the


branches, which had laced themselves toge-
ther in an almost impassable barrier across the
pathway, and walked on at a quick pace.
"You are not silly," said the boy, as if
suddenly recollecting the last speech, "I am
silly,--people call me so, but do you know I
think they are much more so, for they often
cry and are miserable, and some of them
quarrel and fight, and spend all their money so
that they starve, but I don't. I'm never miser-
able- I never cry, or quarrel or fight, and
keep all my money in a money box," he added
in a whisper, and then bursting into a bright
musical laugh, said, "that's wise isn't it not
silly ?"
"True, dear Walter, true; would that you
could instil such wisdom into those who,
'wise in their own conceit,' call you silly,--
could make me, boy, amongst the rest, pos-


sessor of half your cheerful spirit your pure
faith, which nothing doubting goes on its way
rejoicing, believing of good to come, however
dark and gloomy the present may be."
Half in soliloquy had this been uttered, for
Hugh knew the entire sense of such a speech
could not reach the darkened understanding of
his half-witted companion--but in part he
was mistaken, for the boy replied immediately,
as4ough the import of the words, at least, he
It is the Fairies' doing, they make Walter
such a merry boy, they used to rock my cradle
when I was a poor sick baby, and could not
sleep; and would come and scare away the
goblins that used to grin at me. Oh! I was
never frightened when the Fairies were with
me and they used to whisper to me in the
still night, and promise me they would never


let me want, and never let me be miserable-

and have they not kept their word I Ain't I
a happy boy? Oh! they do take such care of
Do you not think it is some One, higher
and mightier, who takes care of you, Wal-
ter "'

Eh?" said the boy staring vacantly at

him. Oh! Yes, you mean God, whom Father

and Margaret kneel to, and say prayers to.
Yes, I know, Margaret says He lets me

see the Fairies to make me contented and

happy-for that she cannot see them; but
I don't quite understand about that. Oh! did
you see that hare hop past," he continued
with his voice restored to its usual gay tone,
" what a pity they kill them isn't it? We are

just at home now, are we not ?"

They were descending a somewhat steep





hill, which led to the village, and the fires
were gleaming through some of the cottage
windows, looking a cheering welcome from the
sharp cold night. The tower of the Church
was illuminated by the moda till each pane of
glass looked like an opal; the old, old
Church, in which were monuments of noble
knights and high born ladies of centuries ago,
their effigies upon their tombs and their names
so effacd, by the ruthless hand of Time, as to
afford full scope for Antiquaries to suppose
them any one they pleased. There too was
recorded how "beneath this stone" lay some
wealthy lord--of later date; "and his lady
and infant son," and by the side of their
tablet graven with care, and bearing above it
the arms of the noble family, was the plain
stone, which the village mason had chiselled
telling how death had laid low, "Thomas



Ditton, many years blacksmith of this parish,
also Ruth his wife." In the churchyard
were tombstones mouldering away, and others
gleaming forth in the moonlight; just erected. -
And here and there the neatly kept graves of
some, whose friends were too poor to raise a
stone above their resting place- only a little
rustic cross planted in the low mound to mark
the spot; -their names and their good deeds
engraven alone on the hearts of those they had
left behind.
Hugh and his poor friend lived very near the
church. Hugh's house came first and when
he approached it, he said, -
Shall I go on with you, Walter, or can you
go by yourself?"
"Oh I by myself- Margaret never shuts
the shutters till her Walter comes home, that
he may see the light twinkle, and when I get


about here,

I sing and she

opens the

her own dear svef, and waits for me. Stay
now and you'll see"- he said, as they arrived
at Hugh's cottage, and he began a low wild
air with an exquisite melody, which he sang
in that'bright, beautiful voice peculiar to boys.
Truly as he said, he had uttered but a bar,
when the door opened quickly, and a figure
waiting, stood revealed by the red light of a

large fire, cold
blew. The boy
still chaunting his

and keen though the wind
went on at a quick pace
Swild song, and Hugh con-

tinued watching him, for it was very touch-
ing that scene, the moon bathing the village
in its flood of cold, clear light--the open
cottage.door with that young girlish figure
standing there to welcome her poor simple
brother, and his sweet voice sounding in
the still night and fading gradually away--






was beautiful to see and hear, at any rate
Hugh seemed to think so, fir he stood there
after the door was closed, and until the shutters
were closed too and the cottage hidden in
darkness; then with a heavy sigh he entered
his own dwelling.
We will follow Walter.- There was indeed
a cheering blaze to welcome and to warm him;
a wood fire threw its ruddy glow over the
room, which was large, commodious, and com-
fortably furnished. It was carpeted all over
with a dark crimson drugget, a round table
stood in the centre of the room, of mahogany
with strange twisted legs, covered with Mar-
garet's work and some books and papers;
against the wall, which was hung with j gaily
patterned paper stood another table, on which
was arranged some old china, several shells
and some stuffed birds in a glass case; this



too was of mahogany, with distorted limbs.-
Over the mantel piece, which was loaded with
old china also, was a kind of panorama of
Windsor, and about the room were several
portraits of the Royal Family,--everything
being profusely decorated with mistletoe and
holly. An arm chair bearing the same date
as the tables stood close to the fire,--the
sides of the hearth were Dutch tiles, and
large iron dogs supported the logs of wood
which were blazing and crackling so cheerily,
the rug, was composed of coloured cloth sewn
together, and on it lay a large Persian cat, an
eight day clock filled one corner of the room,
and a corner cupboard the other, through the
glazed doors of which glittered a quantity of
glass and china.- Both these articles were
also of mahogany, and might have served the
most coquettish young lady for a mirror--



over the door which opened to the road, and
across the window, were drawn crimson cur.
tains, and another door partially open revealed
a bed-room, seemingly furnished with as much
comfort as the sitting room; beyond this was
the kitchen, divided from it only by a small
passage in which were the stairs leading to the
upper rooms.
As the boy entered and his sister closed
and barred the door after him, and drew over
it the curtain which completely excluded the
keen air; an old man came from the inner
room and seating himself in the arm-chair
held out his hand to Walter:-he took it
directly, and then sitting down on the floor at
his father's feet, he lifted the cat into his lap
and began to fondle it.
Well, Walter, love," said his sister coming
up to him, and removing the wraps she had


enveloped him in before he went out,
you see them ?"
"Oh yes! Margaret- numbers and

bers here listen,"
beautiful head to a I
whispered something
herself hurriedly from
and left the room to
she said. She was



and drawing down her
evel with his mouth, he
to her. She disengaged
him with a flushed face,
"put away his things,"

soon back and on her

return the old man said, -
"Prayers and bed, Margaret."
"Yes, Father."
Quickly and neatly she folded and put away
her work, the books and papers, pushed the
table near her Father, lighted two candles in
massive plated candlesticks, extinguished a small
lamp at which she had been working, opened a
large Bible and rang a little hand bell on the
-shelf; at its summons appeared an elderly





ness of those

with the

old times,

cleanliness and plain-

when servants took a








pride in their honest service and liked to look
like a servant and not a would-be-lady.
"Prayers, Hetty," said Margaret.
"Very well, Miss."
She closed the inner door and seated herself
at a respectful distance from her master and
mistress. Margaret took a chair opposite to
her father and beckoned Walter to her, he
laid down the cat, and coming to her knelt
close beside her, nestling his head on her
bosom like a child.
This little family was a source of continual
gossip and conversation in the village. For old
Ford was as universally disliked, as his inte-
resting children were liked. He was feared too
by one and all, so that few visitors ever crossed
his threshold, to enliven the long winter, or
add to the enjoyment of the delicious summer.
He was very clever, very morose, spoke seldom,



always in short sentences, and always sternly,
save to his-daughter. In her seemed centred
all the good in his disposition; all tenderness,
all devotion, all affection in his nature, he
poured forth lavishly on this his idol He was
kind to the boy, at least he tried to be, but
it always appeared an effort to him, not so his
love for his daughter that was his one absorb-
ing thought.
His youth had been devoted to obtaining
independence, so it was said at least,- as a
young man he had scarcely permitted himself
the necessaries of life, out of every penny he
got he saved a half-penny, and continued this
course of saving till by some extraordinary
chance he married. There was a mystery
about his marriage as there was about him
altogether, he was an enigma no one could
solve. And how his young and pretty wife


came to marry him no one could tell
rate he was kind to her; he did not

- at any
stint her,

though he continued his own system of ab-
stinence -that was a confirmed habit -he
went on the "even tenour" of his way, still
making and saving money (he was an opti-
cian by trade) until his wife's death,--that
he took calmly, dispassionately as he did every
thing else-- wore mourning the accustomed
time, but was never seen to weep or heard to
lament; nor was he more moved when told
the infant she had left showed symptoms, when
two years old, of a weak intellect.
Every one said he must be made of stone -
that he loved nothing, was incapable of feeling
an earthly passion but they were strangers.
They saw not how love, the deepest most
engrossing love, shone out of his pale grey
eyes upon the little fairy who played about his




dwelling, his lovely little girl, how tears aye
tears--would roll down his cheek, tears of
admiration and of love as he watched her care
of her simple brother. For her he altered his
style of living and made his little dwelling as
comfortable as he could, too much he loved
her, for in the creature he forgot the Creator.
As she grew up she was good and dutiful to
him, but she had not that affection in her heart
for him, which would repay his unbounded love
- this had been his bane through life. He had
never inspired a responsive attachment; no, as
he loved her, she loved her brother. Oh! who
can doubt the One great power, who reflects
for an instant on the wonderful ordering of
events, the unerring wisdom and mercy with
which the back is fitted to the burden, the wind
tempered to the shorn lamb. The idiot boy
had no mother -but God had raised in his


sister's heart a love as pure and strong, a
devotion as unselfish, as untiring. He had
sent him forth in the world without intellect,
but He had supplied its place with a happy
joyous spirit, which led him along a bright
and flowery path, where he neither knew nor
understood danger or sin. It was as extraor-
dinary as beautiful to witness the extreme care
with which Margaret managed, that nothing
sad or distressing should ruffle the happy
peaceful current of the boy's life--to every
thing she gave a cheerful name, a pleasant
meaning. When he was restless and excited
she would tell him stories suited to his capa-
city, which always soothed and quieted him-
and they were about people good and happy -
never wicked or miserable- those were words
of which he only knew the name.
Indiscreet neighbours would sometimes



speak before him of some sad quarrel, or
some wretched poverty in the village, and
Margaret would instantly turn to him with
a bright smile to counteract the gloomy
impression, and say, that was because they
were unwise," the word, she always sub-
stituted for wicked.
And at other times when he would ask her,
somewhat sadly, if he were silly," she would
laugh out merrily and tell him, "no indeed,
wise, very wise, for he was good, and that
was true wisdom,"
Fondly, as I have said, were the brother and
sister loved in the village, and all were kind
to the poor gentle hearted boy, no one teased,
no one laughed at him, but kindly humoured
his belief in the Fairies he thought watched
over him; so much so indeed, that when
they found out that one of his fancies was,



that if he left a basket in the wood the Fairies

would fill it for him-it never more came
~i~1~3( ;~ r7~-;~ :-YB$~la-~~~;

home empty, and

the children in

the village em-

ployed all their

leisure time in



making things to put into "poor dear Walter's
basket," amply repaid for their trouble, by
the glee with which he would come running
home, and show the treasures the good Fairies
had given him.
I have said, few people ever crossed the
threshold of Mr. Ford's dwelling; but
amongst those few, and seemingly a more
favoured one than any, was Hugh Ripley.
He had taken a great interest in Walter,
and the boy's affectionate nature never for-
got a trifling act of kindness Hugh once
rendered him; and meeting him one after-
noon with his father he ran up to him, and
seizing his hand, said "Father, this is the
gentleman who was so kind to Walter ask
him to come and see us."
Unable to refuse this request in his pre-
sence, Ford tendered the invitation, and at the



first visit




intellect and an
new friend, and

one who took a great interest in science and
mechanism: from that moment he was a
constant inmate of their house, and Hugh
little thought that a simple service rendered to
a poor idiot boy, would prove one of the most
important events of his life.
But to return to the Fords, their accustomed
devotions ended, they all retired to rest; the
inhabitants of the primitive village had long
been in their first sleep, but there was one
waking, and on his solitude we will now
Hugh Ripley rented a room in the small
cottage where we left him. It was kept by
a merry little old woman who called herself
Mrs. Hopwood--to the "Mrs." she had not
the least right but having arrived at the in-



teresting age of sixty, she thought it might
be considered odd" to let her rooms to single
young gentlemen; and so came to Wood-
cote and took this cottage, adding to her
name a title which implied that she had once
possessed a Mr. Hopwood. She was a good
hearted, happy tempered little body as ever
lived, very ignorant, so much so that she quite
provoked Hugh, for she dearly loved to chatter,
and would sit with the parlour door open lying
in wait for him as a spider for a fly, and then
she would pounce out and talk as he called it
"such awful nonsense" that she sadly disturbed
the serenity of his temper.
When he was in good spirits, which alas!
was very seldom, he had a very artful way of
getting rid of her-he had his suspicions
respecting that same Mr. Hopwood, so would
ask her some question relating to him, which



invariably sent the old lady back into her
parlour in double-quick time, and her excuses
for breaking off the conversation were very
On this night he had hoped by the lateness
of his return to escape her, but she was an old
fashioned body, and had sat up to see the old
year out. He was caught as usual; however,
a well-timed inquiry, respecting Mr. Hopwood,
occasioned Mrs. Hopwood to hear a noise,
which "sounded like the cat at the milk,"
and hastily wishing him good night, she
returned into her room,--and we now find
him ascending the staircase to his own room,
the only apartment his wretched means would
Hugh Ripley was the only son of his father,
who died when Hugh was very young, and left
him to bear the many annoyances occasioned



by an ill-tempered and miserly mother: and
wretched enough had been the youthful days of
poor Hugh, giving that melancholy tinge to his
feelings, which he exhibited in his riper years,
- the invariable effect of an unhappy child-
hood. All the amusements in which other
children delighted were denied him as too
expensive, and at a very early age, his mother
sent him forth to seek his own living in the
world, saying "she could not afford to keep
him in idleness."
Poor boy his trials and rebuffs were many;
he had been brought up to no profession, but
had a great taste for drawing, which he hoped
would serve him. He met however with
little encouragement, and had almost begun
to despair of gaining a livelihood, when he
fortunately found employment as a designer
to a large Calico Printer near a country



village, and taking the lodging above men-
tioned, he began to work with renewed energy,
for though the remuneration was small it
was better than idleness, better, far better than
his former home.
And now Hugh laid his hand gently on the
lock of the door, and turned it softly as though
he feared to awake some one within, and then,
peeping in before he entered, he whispered,
Ah there he is at his old work, now Pll
have him"
He crept into the room, and seizing a ruler
prepared to hurl it at a little mouse, who was
most busily engaged in gnawing the edges of a
large portfolio placed against the wall. Hugh's
entrance disturbed the little animal, and it
raised its bright black eyes to his face with a
glance, which to Hugh's fancy seemed im-
ploring mercy, so he laid down the ruler on the
table, saying,



There poor little thing, I'll let you live, go
back to your hole, and if you are a Fairy as
poor Walter says, do me a good turn in ex-
change, that's all."
And flinging himself in a chair before the
fire he put one foot on the fender, and resting
his elbow on his knee ran his long thin fingers
through his hair, and gazed into the fire with
the earnestness of one who thought he could
therein read his fate.
Margaret," he said at last, half aloud,
"Margaret, fool that I am to dare to love her
and yet- why not-the love of goodness is
implanted in our natures and takes the strongest
root in the best hearts -why then should I
call it daring, when I love and reverence it
clothed in an angel's form. What could I not
bear if she were here, to lighten my toil, to
brighten the gloomiest dwelling-sometimes she
smiles on me so kindly would she, could she,


love me ?

and if so to what end- to bring her

to such

a homes

as this, one



if she loved

me that would

not be

wretched to her."





He paused, and raising his head looked
round the room, a strange one truly for the
home of a fair young bride. A striped calico
curtain concealed a small bedstead, and a three
cornered wash-hand stand, and converted the
rest of the apartment into a sitting room, in
which stood a table, covered with drawing paper
and pencils, a pewter pot and blue plate, an
inkstand, and a newspaper; a chest of drawers
opposite the fireplace, was also covered with
various articles, such as a glass, a razor case,
a brush and comb, a velvet cap, a beautiful
little vase filled with chrysanthemums, holly
and laurustinus, and an alabaster figure; two
chairs completed the furniture. The room
was only partially carpeted, and a thin muslin
curtain hung across the window. On the man-
tel-piece stood some unfinished water-colour
drawings, -and a large canvas on the floor


leaning against the wall was covered with
female figures all exactly alike,-all bearing
the lineaments of the form that had waited
so patiently for Walter's return. His inspec-
tion ended Hugh muttered an impatient,
"Pihaw! what an idiot I am, and a selfish
one too, drag her down to this, no indeed,-
that proud old father, would he consent to
such a thing were even she content. No, I
must toil on, hopelessly, miserably, and to what
end? Again I say, to support an existence, I
would much rather was not prolonged-- why
do I live? That is a grand mystery. I am
neither happy myself nor do I form the happi-
ness of another. I am of no use, only cumbering
the ground, and taking, from those who need it
so much more, the money my employers pay
me,-for work too which brings me neither
fortune nor fame. Night after night I lie down



on that wretched bed, and feel that another
day is passed and I have done nothing--
nothing to benefit myself or others: only
earned a few shillings to support a useless and
troublesome existence. Oh Walter, my boy,
how are you to be envied you with your light
heart and simple faith, by such as me whose
life is one long struggle between doubt and be-
lief. I see the Omnipotent wisdom which
formed the planets and guides them in their
course, which orders the changing seasons and
gives to the tiniest insects, instinct for their pre-
servation. I see the mighty Power which sets
bounds to the ocean, and bids the waves be still,
which from the insignificant seed, brings forth
beauteous flowers, and from the small acorn the
giant oak, and still I am ever weighed down
with the feeling of my own uselessness and
the oft recurring question, why do I live ?


" Heigho! poor

Walter he thought

I saw

the Fairies to-night and
eis innocent belief. Pm
would come to my aid
best design for a Chint
will be my fortune if
should No, No! bett

could no longer doubt
i sure, I wish his Fairies
S This offer for the
z, shall I try that ? it
I succeed. Ahl if I
Br not to try, than try

and fail.- It's a pretty notion about Fairies.
Ah! another year, Hugh, over your head -
there are the bells. God bless you, my gentle
Margaret, and send you many happy years.
The Fairies dance to those chimes I suppose,
how beautiful they sound. Fairies" -
Loud and clear, and then fading away till
they could scarce be heard the bells con-
Hugh murmured a few more words; his
head dropped slightly forward, but he moved
not from his position.






* r

St~ -1 e
i;bi *>'
-\__ A1.




away on

bells had

the last

had died

the still







air, leaving the echoes to slumber again,
when Hugh heard a slight rushing sound
like a soft summer breeze: he raised his
head, and his room seemed filled with
smoke or vapour, which emitted a power-
ful scent, like multitudes of flowers,- he
tried to move, but he felt bound to his chair,
and the dense vapour oppressed his chest so
that he could scarcely breathe. This painful
sensation lasted but a few moments, the film
seemed gradually and imperceptibly to vanish,
though the strong perfume of the flowers grew
even more powerful; and he heard a faint
sound, which, growing louder by degrees,
resembled the singing of numberless birds.
In another instant the vapour was gone. No
wonder he smelt flowers and heard singing
birds, for there -in his room -stood count-
less little beings, some laden with baskets filled



with flowers others bearing gold cages, con-
taining birds of every variety of plumage.
From the group before him advanced one
entirely clothed in brown, with a profusion of
long silky brown hair falling over her shoulders
She came close to the astonished and speechless
Hugh, and in a bright voice, so clear that it
rang in his ear like the sound of many bells,
said :-
Many thanks good Master Ripley, Fairies
are not mortals and never forget a kind act, be
it ever so trifling; we owe you gratitude for two,
and are come to pay the debt. First you
performed a service for our friend Walter, we
saw you, we were hidden amongst the trees
in the wood, and you may be sure would have
guided the boy home, but we wished to find
how far you deserved our aid. Oh I how glad
we were when you led him so kindly through



the mazes of the wood, right glad, for we are
never so pleased as when we know a poor
mortal has won for himself a gleam of hap.
piness, by a kind action to a fellow creature.
This, your patient toil, your faithful love, and
finally your disinterested act of mercy to me -
the little mouse, who was destroying your
property, complete our determination to do
you good service in return, but no one can
help those who do not help themselves, banish,
therefore, the unworthy tenants of your noble
heart, Despair and Doubt, and remember,
Hugh Ripley, that it is better to TRY AnD
well the Fairies work."
The voice ceased and the Fairy vanished, -
still Hugh, spell-bound, gazed at the move-
ments of those tiny beings, who seemed to fill
and more than fill his room. Very busy they


all were, flitting about backwards and forwards,
and seeming to talk together in musical strains,
which sounded to him like the constant repe-
tition of Margaret" at length their actions
appeared less confused, and Hugh observed
that they had erected a frame, in which, with
exquisite taste, several of the Fairies were
arranging the birds and flowers, which the
rest were handing to them. Nimbly their fin-
gers moved, and stronger grew the perfume of
the flowers -for the fanning of the Fairies'
wings wafted it to Hugh, till at last their
labour finished, they moved from before the
frame and grouped themselves on either side of
it, displaying to Hugh, the wonderstruck
Hugh a perfect and exquisite Chintz pattern !
For a moment a torrent of thoughts over-
powered him -the great prize for the best
Chint was his no mortal could devise one


like that;

he was wealthy famous-- Mar-

garet was his bride she loved him, was proud
of him- tears, hot tears, dimmed his eyes;

he gasped for breath- endeavoured to move

from his seat, the picture faded, the frame

alone remaining -and in its place was a win-

dow -a thin muslin curtain, and the faint

light of day-break -he started to his feet

trembling with agitation.

It was a dream, only a dream it is true, but
what a dream! vividly he remembered the

beautiful pattern he had seen, he could draw it,
he knew he could. With burning brow and

panting heart he lighted a candle, and eagerly

began his task, dosing his eyes occasionally tc


recall his vision, and as he found how well his
memory served him, and saw growing under

his pencil the exquisite groups of flowers and

birds, his excitement became alarming, and on


,, ,, ,, L

. n



its completion he uttered a low moan and fell
heavily from his chair.

"Many happy new years to you, my own
dear Walter," said a sweet voice at the boy's
"Oh !" he said starting "time to get up-
many to you, Margery, many to you, and to
some one else, Margery I am going to get up
quickly now and tell him how much I wish him
happy years, and then I am going in the wood
to fetch my New Year's gifts, they are sure to
be there, Margaret."
Yes love, quite sure," answered Margaret,
"you'll wait till after breakfast, though."
"Breakfast! do I want breakfast ?"
Oh! certainly, and I have something so
nice because it is New Year's Day."
SHa I Ha then;, laughed the boy, I



shall be sure to stay for breakfast, I wont be
Margaret went down stairs and busied herself
in making the tea, placed her father's arm-chair
in its accustomed place, and then opening the
window which seemed made of ground glass
with the frost, she looked up the village. Cold
as it was, it was brilliantly fine, and Margaret
stood some moments at the window and was
just about to close it, when a young voice called
her name.
Margaret, how do you do, a happy New
Year,- here's a bunch of flowers out of our own
garden for Walter, and we are going up now,"
she said in a lower tone, "' I and four or five
more, to fill his basket with lots of things."
SThank you, Susey dear, thank you so
much, I am glad I have seen you, for I have
something for the basket too," and she took



from her pocket a Comforter, knitted for him by
herself, and gave it to the little girl; by this
time her little companions joined her, Margaret
closed the window, and listened with a pleased
smile to their merry voices as they died away in
the distance: she was soon joined by her father
and brother and they began their morning meal,
the boy talking and laughing gaily in his wild and
joyous manner, which Margaret kept encourag-
ing, while Ford sat by gloomily and sadly, but
occasionally giving a beaming look of love to his
daughter. The moment breakfast was over
Walter prepared to go out.
Where are you going boy?" asked his
"To Hugh Ripley's, and then to see my
The boy went out, Margaret took her work,
her father began to write and there was a long


unbroken silence. It was disturbed at length
by a low knock at the door, which made the
blood rush to Margaret's face, and hastily
arranging her hair, she opened the door and
admitted Hugh Ripley. She started when she
saw him,- why ? because a change was in his
face, which she could not account for; he was
pale, deadly pale, but there was in every line of
his countenance a loftiness she had never
before witnessed, a radiance in his eyes, which
gave to them an expression they had before
wanted, the light of hope beamed in them now.
He did not speak to Margaret, only warmly
shook her by the hand, and advancing to Ford
wished him kindly Many happy years."
"Ah my fiend, had your wishes power,
they would bring me what I never knew. You
will dine with us to day."
I shall be very happy- I have been very


foolish this morning," he continued half
turning to Margaret, "positively fainting away."
Oh! how his heart beat, as Margaret laid
her hand on his arm in the impulse of the
moment, and looked anxiously in his face.
I am better now," he said with a tender-
ness he had never before ventured to assume,
"much better and shall do justice to your
hospitality to-day."
She hastily withdrew her hand, and mur-
muring something about dining at three, and
going to find Walter, hurried out of the room.
Then I will be here punctually at three,"
said Hugh to Ford.
Do! do !" he answered, "you may never
dine with me again."-
"On another New Year's Day, Sir? no,
perhaps not, God knows where this time
twelvemonth may find us."


" Nor this time twelve hours,"

said Ford.-

"True Sir, true, that is a very proper reflec-
tion, but not one to indulge in gloomily--
wherever it finds us, so that our lamps are
trimmed, it cannot much signify."
"The only happy moment, my friend, is
when our lamps are put out depend on it."
Oh! do not say so, Sir, perhaps I might
have agreed with you yesterday, but to-day I
am an altered man, I have learnt a lesson--I
will tell you all about it after dinner."
"Tell me now," said the old man more
eagerly than he ever spoke. -" Tell me now,
I would gladly know what could make any one
wish to live what is life but one long yearn-
ing wish, one long hopeless struggle for a hap-
piness which we know we never shall obtain -
even pleasure exists but in anticipation; from
our earliest childhood we cry for a toy, which




when once in our possession becomes instantly
valueless and so on through life and unto
SOh I come, Sir, life is not quite such a
desert,- there are some roses, so sweet that
we do not heed their thorns, Love, which makes
of Earth a Heaven, brightens the saddest
home, lightens the heaviest heart, surely once
to experience the happy knowledge that we
are loved, must be worth living for !"
Hugh Ripley," said the old man in a
strange and almost unearthly sound "I
know not what that is--I have never
been loved in my long life my long weary
life has passed on, without one gleam of
such happiness as you speak of. It has been
a weary life and I am very tired of it-
no one will miss me, and the grave is a quiet



Hugh was astonished at the tone of
melancholy in which the old man spoke-
though always gloomy and austere, there
was more of sad feeling in his manner than
usual, and he knew not exactly how to reply
to him. There was an awkward silence, and
then Hugh saying he had some business,
and promising to be punctual at dinner,
In half an hour more, Walter returned with
his basket laden with presents, but not as
usual did his bright cheerful voice summon his
sister to view his treasures. He placed his
basket down in a corner, and flinging himself
on the floor beside it, took out one thing at a
time, looked at each separately, and then lists
lessly stretched himself out at full length, and
threw his arms over his head as was his wont,
to sleep. His father was not in the room, nor



his sister, but she had heard the step for which
she always listened so anxiously and she came
to him directly.
Tired, dear Walter? Where are your pre-
sents ?" He rose and pointed to them.
They are pretty," he said, "but Walter
saw the Goblins coming home, Margaret, and
no Fairies'.
Oh! nonsense, Walter was tired coming
home, that was it. Do you know, Mary Lane
at the old farm is going to be married, and
there will be such a gay wedding next Monday,
and you and I will go early in the morning to
the Nursery Ground, and get such a large
nosegay for her-for the children are going
to strew the path with flowers and we will
help them, will we not ?"
The boy sprang from the ground with all his
cheerfulness restored.



SOh I that we will- when is Monday ?

how long ?"
Four days."
Days," he repeated.
Yes, love, darkness and light four times."

Oh, yes, I know then we will get lovely
flowers, but Margaret how can we? Jack Frost
keeps all the flowers, old gardener says, till the

hot sun burns him and makes him let them

go. How can we have them Pr
Oh, we shall have some, Jack Frost lends

us his until he gives up ours, he is very kind

and his are pretty flowers too, Walter," she

said with such a sunny smile that Jack Frost


himself might have melted at it. "Now I
must help Hetty to-day to lay the cloth it

must all be very nice because-it is New
Year's Day."

Any one but poor simple Walter, might

Ill i i




have assigned another reason for Margaret's
particularity -at any rate she did lay the
cloth very nicely, and placed the Christmas
roses and evergreens, which formed Walter's
bouquet, in a vase in the centre of the
table. But while she was thus busily and
cheerfully employed poor Walter was un-
quiet and unhappy; a most unusual occurrence
for him, and which somewhat worried Mar-
garet. She looked at the clock, it wanted
nearly an hour to dinner, she had been so
anxious to lay the cloth-there was time
to take Walter out for a little walk with her,
it would be a change and amuse him. She
proposed it and he assented gladly for he
was so restless that any movement was agree-
able to him.
They were soon on their way down the
village, this loving couple. Margaret talking



to him so gently, so gaily --trying to divert
his mind but still he seemed restless and
more wild
1 and flighty
than usual
-till Mar-

garet her-
self grew
and began
to feel a
strange pree
of comnig

had taken
no decided
-- r route, but



oddly enough they found themselves passing
Hugh Ripley's cottage. Mrs. Hopwood was
standing at the door.
"Ah I many happy new years to you young
folks," she said, "how are you, young gentle-
man ?"
He is very well, thank you Mrs. Hopwood
- and you f? asked Margaret.
"Oh! I'm as well as I can expect to be -
you know I aindt quite so young as I wa--
I've flying pains like all over me with the cold
weather, but there-that'll all go off--all go
off my dear, I was looking out for Sweetman
to order a bottle of elder wine against my
young gentleman comes home to night--he
ain't over and above well-I don't think he
takes victuals enough, and so I am just going
to coddle him up a bit -why he fainted away
this morning-I heard such a bump over



head- woke me- I sat up and listened--
and then it come over me well, perhaps
something's the matter with Mr. Ripley -so
I got up and went up stairs and there he lay
in a dead faint-but I soon brought him
round, and he went out in such spirits I
scarcely knew him."
He dines with us to-day," said Margaret;
somewhat confusedly.
I know that. Don't let him stay too late,
for I shall have him ill again."
No," said Margaret softly.
Look! Margaret look !" said Walter I
see the Fairies! numbers and numbers going
into the wood. I must go after them, they
beckon me, look I" and staying for no reply, he
flew off in the direction of the wood, the.
entrance of which could be distinctly seen from
Mrs. Hopwood's cottage.


"Poor boy," said Mrs. Hopwood compassio-
nately "Je's a great charge to you ain't he ?"
"A very dear one, Mrs. Hopwood. I know
not what I should do without him."
"Ah! you're a good gal, a very good gal;
there's many a one would be for ever a grum-
bling at the trouble and the dulness of a home
like yours."
"Perhaps I should if I found it dull and
troublesome-it is a little dull sometimes
when Walter, dear Walter is out; but he is
never troublesome- so happy tempered, so
"Ah! poor child, it is a heavy aliction
certainly, now do you never go after him when
he runs away from you like this ?"
"No never, it would worry him-- and I
know he will not go far from home, and I wish
him to feel he can take care of himself, so



I carefully avoid showing any anxiety about
"Ah true- there's Sweetman! I must ran
after him, good bye, my dear"- and Mrs.
Hopwood hurried away.
Margaret walked on to the entrance of the
wood and looked up its long vistas of tall
leafless tress to see if Walter were in sight -
but no-he had wandered further among
its tangled brushwood, and so she turned away,
and walked on, thinking he might return when
she passed again, and they could go home to
dinner together. -
Home to dinner! how incessantly that din-
ner haunted her-and how she hoped that
Hetty would cook it beautifully, better than
ever, and pictured to herself the neatness of
the room, the nice appointments of the dinner
- and wondered if it would be remarked



- if He liked neatness and was particular
- and whether it would strike him, that she
who could keep her father's house so well
would make a good wife; and then her
thoughts wandered on, and she could see a
cottage-home with a neat garden filed with
flowers, and a room so comfortably furnished
and two occupants therein- one a fair being
her mirror told her was very lovely-and
another whom her heart told her was dearer to
her than all besides on earth deara even
than her poor simple brother.
Yes! her thoughts were fll of such happy
visions and long she indulged them, and went so
far as to make conversations between herself and
another, such as she thought would take place
this very day after dinner by the fire light; that
delicious dreamy light by which she had often
become lost in thought as now, with the mo..
ments flying by unheeded.



Moralists may call such reveries unprofitable
and bid the young beware of them, for that
they are but a milder term for idleness, but
are they not some of the happiest moments of
our lives; does reality ever appear like those
highly coloured pictures young hearts draw of
the future, and if they are never realized,-- still
it is something to be happy even in thought.
Margaret found herself at her own home
sooner than she expected; she stopped for a
moment to look up the village for Walter, but
not seeing him she tapped at the door, it was
opened by Hugh Ripley.
SOh! Mr. Ripley am I late ?" she said blush-
ing brightly at his unexpected appearance.
"No, I am early fortunately."
She entered the cottage, removed her bonnet,
and fondled the cat before either of them spoke


"Margaret," he said at length (he had never
called her so before) your father is not very
well, lying down a little before dinner."
Margaret looked up alarmed, there was
something in the tone of his voice unusual, and
her father not well, she had never in her life
heard him complain.
"Ill ?" she said, "my father, he was quite
well when I went out, I have not been gone
an hour."-
"Oh I he's better now, don't be alarmed, I
came in at a fortunate moment, and now I have
induced him to lie down until dinner."
"Shall I go to him ?" she asked still wonder-
"No, no, he is better quiet has anything
occurred particularly to distress him this morn-
ing ?"
"No, Mr. Ripley, not that I am aware of,


you terrify me, you are not telling me all the
truth. Oh! I felt something would go wrong
to-day." And she laid her hand on his arm,
and looked with trembling earnestness in his
Hugh felt almost inclined to be cruel to
pause ere he quieted her fears; it was so
delightful to have her sweet eyes gazing on
him,-to feel she was looking to him for
comfort, but he was not selfish; and venturing
to lay his hand soothingly on her small trem-
bling one, he said -
All is well now, I assure you; your father
was alone and had a fit of very deep depression,
which might have terminated seriously had not
I entered opportunely; we had a long, grave
conversation, and afterwards, being somewhat
agitated, I recommended the quiet of his own
room, and soon he will be quite himself."



But a dim perception of the truth seemed to
have reached Margaret, as with a startled gaze
she continued to fix her eyes on Hugh's face ;
she felt he had saved them from some weighty
sorrow, and thanked him cordially, asking no
more questions, from an instinctive feeling that
he had told her all it needed she should know.
And as those fervent words of gratitude fell
from her lips in those clear low accents, so dear
to him, the grand mystery of why he lived was
solved, and he blessed Heaven he had lived
for this; he was not useless, why had he dared
to think so ? "Shall the thing formed say to
him, who formed it, why hast thou made me
thus ?"
Hugh Ripley had learnt a lesson he never
more forgot. A long while he and his comp
panion talked together; and he told her how
her father had said his life was burdensome to


him, from the knowledge or rather the impres-
sion that he was unloved, uncared for, -that
his wife had been forced into a marriage with
him by her parents, and had never loved him,
- that his children had loved her, not him, and
then he went on to tell her of her father's
passionate love for her, of which till that
moment, Margaret had been unconscious, -
and how he had longed to see some return of
it from her, but that he found duty and not
"I never knew this, Mr. Ripley," said
Margaret, with the tears filling her eyes, "I
never knew all this, indeed; I have had so great
a charge in my poor brother, I have been blind
to all else; my father has always been to me
cold and reserved; there has always seemed
between us an icy chain"--
Which a few sweet loving words from you


would have had power to melt," answered
Hugh. "He says that often and often he
would have given all he possessed for one of
those words of tenderness you were lavishing
on Walter; that often and often he has spo-
ken angrily to the boy, in jealousy of him, as
he has watched you pillowing his head on your
bosom, fondly stroking his hair and showering
kisses on his face."
Margaret blushed vividly, and answered in a
low voice, Walter has so much need of love
and pity; but I am so grateful to you," she
continued, "for telling me this, indeed I do
love my father, and am glad, Oh! so glad,
that he loves me; he shall never have cause to
be jealous of Walter again."
As she spoke the inner room door opened,
and her father entered; she flew from her seat,
and rushing to him, flung her arms about him,


and raising her flushed and tearful face to his,
said, Father dear, dear Father, you have been
ill, and your Margaret away from you, but you
are better now, are you not ?"
The old man could not answer, for the frst
time since her unconscious babyhood, he
pressed his darling to his heart, and his tears
glistened amongst her glossy hair. For a few
moments, emotion impeded speech, and when
released from that fond embrace, Margaret
turned again to thank Hugh for all the good
he had done, he was gone.
With all the refined delicacy of his nature,
he had felt that but One eye should be the wit-
ness of such an interview. He soon returned
however, bringing with him Walter, quite
restored to his accustomed cheerfulness, for he
had seen such numbers of Fairies running up
and down the Sun's ladders," as he termed
the rays, which shot through the trees.


And Walter was the greatest talker at the
dinner to which they now sat down the hearts
of the others were too full for words, and Mar-
garet's day-dream was unfulfilled, for Hugh
left early, and they were still only friends.
Had she known his thoughts, her heart
that night would have been lighter.
When Walter was gone to bed, her father,
throwing his arm round her, kissed her affec-
tionately and said he had something curious to
tell her, that she must hear before she went to
rest; he then recounted the history of Hugh's
Fairy dream.
"It is curious Margery dear, is it not?"
he said after he had finished the narration.
"He is going to send the pattern in to-
morrow, and on Saturday the prize will be
given. I hope sincerely he will gain it, he
richly deserves it, and I, Heaven knows, ought


to wish him well, and you too my poor child;
he has rendered us a service to-day indeed;"
and once more kissing her fondly, he sent her
to her own room in the greatest excitement and
astonishment at all she had heard and witnessed.
Margaret counted the days until Saturday,
and how anxious and disappointed she felt
when it came at last, and the shades of evening
began to fall, and Hugh appeared not to tell
them if he had been successful; how very trou-
blesome everything was that she had to do; how
unusually fidgetty her father was; how tiresome
poor Walter,--she almost spoke crossly to
him at last, and finally unable longer to remain
in the house, she coaxed him to come out, and
of course turned her steps towards the Factory,
where the prizes were to be distributed. The
moment however she discerned it, and her eyes,
which had been strained in obtaining a glimpse



of the building, caught sight of a figure coming
out, she turned rapidly round and bidding Walter
try to overtake her, ran off quickly in the oppo-
site direction; but she was soon out of breath,
and Walter ran on before her and left her far
behind, whilst she leant against a gate to rest,
through which a path led a nearer way to the
Still with her eyes gazing up the road by
which she fancied Hugh would come, and her
thoughts wandering as they were wont, Mar-
garet stood; when a voice behind her pro-
nounced her name, she started, and turning
with a flushed face, saw Hugh Ripley. He
jumped over the gate, and Margaret stam-
mered out something about its being "very
cold," but simple as the words were, and
indifferent as the tone was she attempted to
assume, there was something to Hugh Ripley


unmistakable in her manner, and in a low voice
he said, "Margaret, I know you will be glad to
hear that I have been successful, the Prize is
mine," and he held up a leather bag containing
the money. Thrown off her guard, she clasped
her hands together, and lifting her eyes to his
face, she said,
Oh! indeed I am glad. I have been so
very very anxious I was afraid to ask you."
The glance, the words were enough, all
doubts he might have had, were gone. Men
are ready enough to interpret words and looks
in their favour when they are NOT meant, but
it is a rare case if they mistake them when they
The torrent of Hugh's long pent-up feel-
ings now poured forth, and he told her of
his cherished love, of all his many doubts
apd fears,--bf his Dream, and how it had


inspired him with Hope, and as it had gained
him one prize, how he had trusted it might
secure to him another.
But alas! dear Margaret, would my antici-
pations had been realized; I have gained the
Prize it is true, but the sum is too trifling to
admit of my longer entertaining the daring
hopes I had formed. I had hoped it might
be suffcient to set me up in some business,
and enable me to support you as you have
been accustomed to be; that hope is at an
end, and I have only to recommence my
tedious occupation.-I could not ask you
Margaret to share such a pittance."
Margaret murmured a reply, inaudible to
any, but one listening as Hugh was, and rap-
turously he answered her; but no matter
what he said or how he said it, suffice it that
ere they reached home, both had forgotten


that sorrow ever did or could exist- that in
this weary world there were such things as
bitter partings heart-burnins jealousies,
and all the train of human ills and sins,--
that clouds ever shadowed the glowing sun
light, or storms ruffled the serene sky, -
nipping frosts and bitter winds blighted the
blooming flowers,--or indeed that any other
beings trod the earth, save Margaret Ford and
Hugh Ripley.
But they were awakened from this happy state
by their approach to the village, and the sight
of Margaret's home with Walter standing at
the door: and then came a thousand nervous
fears as to her father's consent, the neces-
sity for which until that moment both had
c Why, dearest Margaret, your father told
me he should ever consider himself my debtor,

Ui a


for what he was pleased to call the service I
rendered him; let him pay me with this little
hand, and then Margaret, dear Margaret, the
obligation will be on my side, let us go in and
speak to him at once."
Walter was leaning against the door-post
talking to himself or to his friends the Fairies,
as he thought, when they came up to the
house, he continued his conversation without
heeding them, but as Hetty opened the door
and they passed in, leaving it open for him to
follow, he burst into one of his wild, ringing
laughs, and said,
"Ha! Ha! now I understand, Yes! yes!
another gay wedding, bring an flowers,
Fairies, heaps of flowers, for she is good- so
good; and they must be flowers which
never fade, and have no thorns; not Jack
Frost's cold scentless ones, but warm sunny



that smell


- yes,

she shall

you say thanks, thanks, and you must
all -all come to the wedding, and no one
will see you but me. Ha! ha! that will be
fun. I shall be so busy, I must go and tell
Whitelock, must I not? the Church must be
ready and clean, so dean, no dust in it to soil
your wings, hush! fly away, I'm going now."
And away went the boy down the village at
a quick pace, and entered the churchyard; near
the church he found the man he sought digging
a grave. Whitelock was the sexton.
SWhitelock, I want you," said the boy.
"Eh ;" answered the old man looking up
and resting on his spade "Oh! it be you,
master Ford."
"Yes I what are you doing ?"
A question he had asked fifty times before,
and which the old man was always puzzled to




remembering Miss Margaret's


tion that nothing sad should be

told him,

pc -- - sa1.
/r-^ ^ ^^ "r~'s--.;'-

how carefully




him from the knowledge of Death; managing
that some engrossing amusement at home
should employ him, when the somewhat un-
usual circumstance of a funeral occurred in the
small village, so he hesitated a moment and
then scratching his head, said.
"Why, I be's digging a flower bed -and
there aint no story there," he said to himself,
" for what can you call such a young thing as
this, but a little flower -I'm a going to trans-
plant a flower, my boy, that got in a soil as
wasn't suited to it, and it will do a deal better
where it's going to."
"Flower, Oh! yes, and it will blow for
Margaret's wedding. I've come to tell you
you must clean the church, the Fairies are all
coming and it must be very clean."
"Yes, my boy, it shall be very clean, the
Fairies be coming be they ?"


No one heeded what poor Walter said, but
answered him gently, and never contradicted
What are those gray stones for Whitelock,
so many of them ?"
Again the old man scratched his head before
he answered, and then said,
"Why, a great many people out of this
village be gone into a far country, and their
friends put up these stones to remind them
of 'em, and of the day they went away. A
beautiful country it is, my boy, where we shall
all go I hope. rm expecting to go every
"Don't go then till after the wedding, the
gay wedding, what fun we shall have."
Ah I indeed, and who is to be the bride-
groom ?"
"Oh! I must not tell that, Margaret will



be angry, but you'll see, you'll see, a brave
wedding it will be, good bye, Whitelock, have
the Church clean, never mind about the flowers,
the Fairies will bring them," and, sauntering
slowly out of the church-yard, the boy re-
turned home.
He found Margaret standing by her Father,
one arm thrown about his neck, and the other
hand pressed in Hugh Ripley's. They scarcely
heeded his entrance, so engrossed were they
by their conversation.
And you would leave me, Margaret, now we

have just begun to understand one another,"
said the old man with a melancholy smile.
"Oh! Sir," answered Hugh, "do not talk
of leaving yet, I cannot take my Margaret to
my present home, but I could not resist hear-
ing from her own lips whether she would ever
come to gladden a better."


Had she refused," said Ford sighing, you
would have had no care to seek a better, I
suppose ?"
c Oh! yes, Sir, I am a changed man now, I.
used to think so, but since my wonderful
Dream, I have reflected much and deeply -
I have felt that the thwarting of one's hopes
here, should instead of causing a gloomy in-
difference, a useless despair, incite us to fresh
exertions for the attainment of our hopes
hereafter; that we have no right to bury our
'one talent,' because it has failed to purchase
what we in our short-sightedness call happi-
ness; but seek to increase its value tenfold,
that it may purchase for us at last an eternal
and perfect happiness. Dear Walter's Fairies
have indeed rendered me a service"-he said,
holding out his hand to the boy.
"Have you seen them?' said Walter, ea-


"Yes, my boy; and look what they have
given me," and he held up the purse of money.
"Ha! ha! hurrah! now Margaret, don't
you love the Fairies.'
Indeed I do Walter, almost as well as
you do."
"c Ha! ha! wont there be a gay wedding -
Mary Lane's will be nothing to it."
"Come with me, Walter, want to speak
to you," said Hugh -" I must go dear Mar-
garet, but I may come again in the evening "'
"Oh, yes!" she answered, her eyes spark-
ling with joy, take care of Walter, anddon't
keep him out too long, it is so cold."
Cold as it was she stood at the door watch-
ing them out of sight.- At length her father
begged her to close it.
How strangely things come about, Father,"
she said, when she had done his bidding, and


settled herself close beside him.-" Hugh's
kindness to poor Walter, when he lost himself,
has really and truly been the source of his
present good fortune."
Securing your hand and heart, Margaret ?"
No, Father," she answered, blushing and
smiling, "getting the prize, for if he had never
known Walter, he would never have dreamed of
Fairies, shewing him a pattern; now would he ?"
"Well, I am not prepared to say that; I
can only say I am glad of the prospect of
leaving my daughter in such good hands-
he is an excellent young man, Margaret."
Margaret needed not this assurance, she had
thought so from their first interview, and each
day her love and esteem increased for him.
As they were now so much together, she
daily witnessed some fresh proof of his amiable
disposition, his generous and noble heart,


With his master Hugh had always been a
favourite, and since his success he had been
doubly kind to him; and at length without
assigning any particular reason, had doubled
his salary, so that now Hugh began seriously to
talk of a pretty cottage, which was to let at the
outskirts of the village, and in short to make
every preparation for the gay wedding, Walter
had been so long expecting.
But before the accomplishment of all this,
he said he must go to London, and at this their
first parting Margaret was very unhappy.
She had never been in London, and to her
it had an awful sound; but half her fears she
would not express to him for it was like doubt-
ing him; he would not forget her she was sure,
and yet she saw him depart with a very heavy
heart and tearful eye; her father too was ill that
night the wind blew in cold and heavy gusts,


and poor Margaret could scarcely assume a
cheerfulness before Walter, and was glad when
in the refuge of her own room she could weep
The only thing now was to look forward to
his letters her father was growing worse, and
Margaret longed for Hugh's return for she felt
frightened and helpless.

We will transport ourselves now as Mar-
garet would fain have done to his side, and
shall find him in a small house near Dean
Street, Soho, of miserable exterior, and giving
an excellent notion of its inhabitant. She, for
it was a woman, was seated by a small table at
work mending a gown, which a maid of all
work would have scorned to wear; the carpet
which covered the room was threadbare; there
were no curtains to the window, save across
the lower panes, a strip of what was meant to


be white muslin, but upon which rested the
dust of ages. There was a handful of fire in
the grate made of coke, and a saucepan on the
hob making strenuous exertions to boil, a feat
which seemed with such a fire a moral impos-
Hugh was standing before her, his arm rest-
ing on the mantel-piece, his face looking
flushed and excited.
But, Mother, hear me once more, I have
at last thank God! become successful, and if
you still deny the possession of the income I
felt assured you enjoyed, share mine, and do
not I implore you continue to live in a manner
so unbefitting my father's wife, and so painful
to yourself."
Mrs. Ripley looked up from her work for
the first time.
Share yours 1 can you help me?" she
asked. Have you got money ?"



"Yes, mother, I have at last established
myself in the world, and find my exertions
enable me to secure quite sufficient at least to
make you more comfortable than you appear
at present."
A strange expression passed over the rigid
features of his mother, and she said, -
Did you come to London solely to see
after me? you were not wont to be so very
affectionate it is some years since we met."
It is, Mother, those years have been spent
in long and arduous struggles for subsistence.
I knew, or rather I thought," looking around
him, you needed not my aid. I could not
live dependent on you, but now I find you
in apparent want, ill, as you say you are and
as you look, alone and unfriended, you
are my mother," he continued with a slight
tinge of bitterness in his tone, for he felt her



conduct had been little like one, "and I offer
you the shelter of the home, I have at length
secured for myself; and the protection of a
While he spoke she rivetted her small black
eyes upon him, and again demanded, "Did he
come to London purposely to seek her out,
and make this offer ?' He paused a moment
and a look of pain passed over his face, and
he answered.
I came to seek you out, with what purpose
it matters not now. I did not expect to find
you thus; do you accept my offer ?"
"Of course I do, Hugh. I shall be very
glad to be helped I am sure; I have no money,
I tell you, the rent of this house is very heavy,
I thought of letting the upper part, but then

I must


bought the
father had

furniture; you know,
nothing to leave, his



income died with him there is nothing
but the small, very small property I brought
your Father for me to exist upon."
"Well, Mother," said Hugh with a heavy
sigh, "we will say no more about it, it is
settled. I have to see a man on business
to-morrow, and then I will make any arrange-
ment you like."
I had better go back with you into the
country. I like the country, but every one says
London's the cheapest place in the world, so I
staid here."
"No! No! Mother," he answered eagerly,
"we will live here, let the upper part of the
house as you proposed, I will have it furnished.
My occupation can be as well carried on here
as in the country. I am tired!" he said
abruptly, "can I sleep here to-night ?"
"Yes, there's a bed room for you, -but-


we've nothing in the house except that drop of
t Oh, I'm not hungry, Mother," he answered
impatiently, "I only want rest, I'll go to
the hotel for something I left there, and come
back directly."
You'll be sure to come back," she asked
"Oh, yes," he answered, sure," and he was
soon back; to his surprise he found something
like a decent meal prepared for him, and the
room looking somewhat more cheerful, for the
shutters were closed, the candle lighted, and
she actually held out her hand to him, as
though she were pleased to see him.
He went to his room early -the wretched
room where he was to sleep; but he noticed
not its desolate appearance and flinging himi
self on the one chair it contained, exclaimed
aloud -

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