CHAPTER XIII.
Tossil's Barton, estimating the British Post by the standard of JoeQueen's boy, placed but little confidence in that institution.Moreover, Tossil's Barton held that a "papper scrawl," as it termed aletter, was certain to be lost for want of size, unless it were securedin something large, "something as a man can zee and hold on to," as thefarmer himself expressed it.
Therefore I was not surprised at receiving, instead of a letter by post,a packet delivered by the parcels van. This packet was bound round likethe handle of a whip. and stuck at either end with a mass of cobbler'swax. bearing the vivid impress of a mighty thumb. Within the wrappingsfirst appeared an ominous crumpled scroll. Ye stars, where angels sobuffooned by eminent painters dwell! Once more I behold Eli on theturnpike gate, the Great Western steamer, Job with a potsherd ofwillow-pattern plate, the Prodigal Son, and worse than all, that hideousDeath and the Lady. Recklessly I tumble out all the rest of the packet.Three great bolts with silver clasps, three apostle spoons, two oldsilver salt-cellars marked W.H.J.H., a child's christening cup, a horntobacco-stopper with a silver tip, an agate from the beach, atortoise-shell knife with a silver blade, half a dozen coins and abronze fibula found upon the farm, an infant's coral, a neck-pingarnished with a Bristol diamond, a number of mother-of-pearl buttonsand blue beads, and a mass of mock jewelry bought by the farmer from theCheapjacks at Barum fair with the produce of his wrestling triumphs.Separate from the rest, and packed most carefully, were all but two ofthe trinkets I had sent as Christmas gifts for the family.
Touched to the heart by all this loving kindness, I felt so ashamed ofmy paltry petulance at Eli, Jonah, and the rest, that I would notindulge in a peep at Sally's letter, which came last of all, until I hadstarved myself for a day. That literary effort showed so muchimprovement, both in writing and in spelling, that any critic would haveendorsed Mr. Huxtable's conclusion that the gift must be in the family.A few words still there were of rather doubtful texture, but who canbind or bound the caprice and luxury of the English language? Moreover,Sally's stops were left once more to the discretion of the reader. Butif Lord Byron could not grasp the mysteries of punctuation, how couldSally Huxtable? Yet that eager little maid would have learned in halfan hour the art which might have mellowed the self-tormentor's howling.Sally's was a healthy, sweet, and wholesome nature.
Tossil's Barton Farm, Trentisoe. The tenth day of March A.D. 1851.
"DEAR MISS CLARA DEAR,--If you please, father and mother and me and ourlittle Jack hope this letter will find you in good health as it leavesall of us at this present, or when it will be finished, thank God forthe same, and hoping no offence. The baby as was born on the 20th dayof October last is a very fine and lusty wench at this time of writing,and have got two teeth, and her hair coming again, and answers to thename of Clara, as you know Miss you was so kind to give her leave andliberty, and father call Clara to her now, and so do I and Jack, butmother will call her Babby still, and so the chillers does.
Father often say, "Babby! Why there be a hundred babbies in the world,and a thousand either, for ought I knows again it, but I reckon thereisn't half a dozen Claras." But mother say she can't help it: shealways did call them babbies till they was put into short-clothes, andlonger too, if so be there wasn't another, and she feels a call on herto do it, and no offence Miss Clara for that same. If you please Miss,when the parson say "Name this child," and Aunt Muxworthy, from over toRowley Mires, say, quite peart, "Clara, sir"--father had been learningher, you see Miss, all the morning--parson look, so mother say, the sameas a skinned sheep all skivered out to dry; and Tim Badcock go haw haw,till father was forced to slip behind the godmothers and fetch him alittle clout on the side of his head. Then parson say at last, "Claramaam! There be no child of that name to this side of Coom, and it seemto me to go again the rub rick." Father say the parson must be a highfarmer, for none of us ever hear tell of that rick in this country."Now take my advice and think better of it Mrs. Muxworthy," the parsonsay again. So she looks to father, for you see Miss she were notedified about it being right, because she could not find it in the Biblenowhere. And she say, "Think better of it farmer now; if you wants ahandsome name, there's Tryphena and Tryphosa, and has been in the familyafore." "Mother," says my father, and he looked the way he do when hedon't intend to talk about a thing, "Mother, go home with the child, andI'll take her to Parracombe Church next Sunday: and tell Suke not to putthe goose down."
You see, Miss, we was going to have a supper after church, and the bestgoose on the farm, and the parson was coming too. "Sober now," say theparson, "if so be now, farmer John, you have put your mind upon namingthis here infant Clara, why I will christen her so, only an underProtestant, and with difference to the chapter." Father only say "Amen,so be it;" and then parson do it, and do it uncommon well too, fathersay. and she only laugh when they give her the splash. Father told usafterwards as he believed parson was feared he couldn't spell Clarafitty; but mother say he be wrong there, and all along of his pride, forparson be a college chap and so he can spell anything amost, in one wayor another.
Miss Clara, all them beautiful things as you sent for us to Christmastime, with the forepart of all our names upon them, except Sally, wassunk in the bottom of the brook in the hole below the stickle by thehollow ash, where the big trout hath his hover, all along of Joe theQueen's boy; and we never knew ought about it till your after lettercome. Then our little Jack, who be quite a big boy now, and button hisown corduroys, go down to the brook at once, and pull off all histhings, and there he rake and feel among the stones for the biggest partof a day, though the ice was on the edge but the water were quite clear;and Tabby Badcock want to pull off her things and go in too, but Jackwould not let her, and be ashamed of herself, and I sat on the bank andTabby, and Jack pull out nine beautiful things, as were meant forfather, and mother, and him, and Billy, and little Honor, and Bobby, andPeggy, and the two weanies, but he couldn't find nothing as were meantfor me Sally, unless Tabby stole it, and she be quite equal to it I amafeared: and we all returns you many many kind thanks and love,especially the ones as had it, and me. Our Jack say, No her wouldn't doit, he'll go bail for that, no fie! But I shake my head; though perhapsshe never had the chance, if so be there wasn't none marked Sally, andthank you every bit the same, Miss, so long as there wasn't none forTabby."
Poor little Sally! She must have cried bitterly to think of her beingforgotten. But the best of all, next to the farmer's, was for her, andthere was one for Tabby too.
"Miss Clara dear, the things was not hurt at all by being under waterfor a week, and father say they must be made of the very same gold asQueen Victoria's crown and sceptre is, as never can rust with the brinywaves; and Beany Dawe feel cock sure as it was the fairy of the brookstole them from Joe's breeches pocket, and keep mine still he saybecause it be the prettiest. But there, he never know much, any morethan Tabby does.
If you please Miss, asking your pardon, when Aunt Muxworthy were here,to the christening time, she said she never see such writing in her lifeas mine, and it wasn't my best copy neither, and she said it was a sinto make a scholar of a honest wench like that, and I should want to bethe parson next, and read the forty-two generations and play the fortpiano; and I didn't know, Miss, whether to laugh or cry, so I began toeat an apple; but father say quite slowly, "Sister Muxworthy, you wasnever gifted with no eddication no more nor I Jan Uxtable, and how be usto know if it be good or bad? Once I had a horse, say father, as aforeever he went into the field, turned up his nose at the grass like, andwith turning up so much he died at last of the glanders. But I neversee that there horse persuade the others to starve." Aunt Muxworthytoss her head, and we thought she wouldn't eat no goose, but the smellof the stuffing and the weather was too many for her; and she eat awing, and a leg, and one side of the breast, and it do her good. Andafore she had had much brandy, "John," she say, "you was right and I waswrong. Let the little wench crack on, and some day t
hey'll hear of herto tother side of Hexmoor." So father laugh and kiss her, and thechillers was put to bed, and we drink your health Miss, and Clara's ninetimes nine, and father say he'll learn himself some day, when he give upwrestling, only he fear it would make his hand shake terrible, and thensome laugh and some of us cry, and they has more hot water, and BeanyDawe set to, and make so many poems he turn the stairs somehow insideout, and Suke and Tim was forced to heave him into the tallat, and keephim from going abroad by a rope of onions round him and two truss of hayon the top. Next day, he make no poems at all till he drink more than agallon of cider.
Oh Miss Clara dear, what ever is the matter with you? Father be in sucha taking I never see. To-day your letter come about selling thatknob-thing of Beany Dawe's, and we knows it must be all along of thecrown jewels you bought for us, as we meant to keep in the family to theend of all our time. Mother double up, and cry into the churn, andspoil all the butter; and father were that upset he stamp out of thehouse a trying hard to whistle, and he couldn't see no one there to letit off on but Timothy Badcock, and he were a little saucy, so he tossTim up on the linhay roof and his legs come through the thatch, andfather was forced to ease him out with the pitchfork. Tim was stiff abit in the evening, and serve him right say mother, for laughing so atthe Cornishers; but father give him some neatsfoot oil and cider, and weknew us couldn't hurt him because he be double-jointed.
And if you please Miss Clara dear, we would not stoop to ask Beany Daweand he nothing but a sawing poet; so father go to the old oak chest withthe whitewash on it, and pull it open without the key, and take out someold rubbish he saith, and order mother to pack it without a word, andmother want to put in a pair of linen sheets and the best table-cloth,but father say quite crusty like, "Do e take our Miss Clara for a commonpackman?" And when I say, "Please father what shall I say about itall?" he answer me quite low, "How ever can I tell child? Ask yourmother there. Only give my best respects and most humble duty, and tellMiss Clara I wishes I could find a man to throw me all four pins, forbeing such a drunken hosebird not to have more to send her. But I knowher won't take money from the likes of us. Stop," father say, "ask herto please to lift our horn up as the horn of an unicorn. I knows whereto go for lots of money and all to be had for asking. I'll go to Bodmintown next week," say father, "and show them Cornishers a trick ofAbraham Cann. Since honest Abraham took the sprain, he left it all tome, though God knows, and thank him for the same, I never want it yet.I should like to see the Cornisher as could stand my grip." And thenfather pull both his hands out of his pockets. Mother say he wear themout he do spraddle both his thumbs so.
It seems a curious thing, Miss Clara dear, father never get vexed orweist like, but what he want to wrestle, and other times he never thinkof it, unless it be to fair or revel time.
When I asked mother and said as father tell me to, the tears was in hereyes, and she try to look angry with me, and then she broke out cryingas loud as Suke when the cow Molly kick her. So between the both ofthem, Miss, I can't know what to say, so please to make it yourselfMiss, for I am sure I can't find any thing only the best love of ourhearts and a side of bacon us would like to send, and the butter from myown little cow, all sweet hay and no turmots; I be to sit in Coommarket, all by myself, on Saturday, and mother not come nigh me, and Iknow you'll let me send you the money, and I expects elevenpence apound, because you never was proud with your loving scholar ever tocommand and obey. SALLY HUXTABLE.
All this here underneath and over the leaf is going to be written afterthe rest of this here paper.
If you please Miss Clara dear, there come now just a very fine spokengentleman with a long coat the colour of udder, and blue flaps, and blueat the hands, and ever so many great silver buttons with a print likepats of best butter, and gold ribbon round his hat. We seemed at firsthe be an officer of dragoons, till we see'd the flour in his hair, andthen us knowed he was the Queen's miller. Father was a great mind toshow him a forehip and send his buttons to you Miss, because he see theybe worth ever so much more than these little things all put together,only mother stop him.
Then the gentleman say he know Mr. Henwood well, and respect him much,and he be sent here by expression to discover where you be Miss Clara,and it be most particular, and if we wished you well, us would tell himto once. Father and mother and me puts him in the parlour and gives hima jug of the very best cider, and then we goes and lays our headstogether about him in the cheese-room, and mother and me was for tellinghim, only father say no. You never give us leave, and us wants to dowhat is right and upright, unless you order us contrary, and us has noright to tell without ask you, and you so full of enemies.
So father say, very grand for him: "Honoured sir, us hopes the honour ofa papper scrawl from Miss Clara in ten days time, or may be a fortnight,according to the weather please God, and us be satisfied too. My eldestdaughter here be writing to Miss Clara for a week or more, and if so beshe have got room left on the papper scrawl she ask Miss Clara's leave,and us shall have time enough to hear what her say in a fortnight, ormebbe three weeks."
"Oh then, she be gone to Hitaly at the least." The gentleman say.Father never hear tell of Hitaly whether it be in London town or no, buthe look to mother and me to hold our noise. The gentleman say somethingsound very much like "Dang," and father hoped he would be saucy, becausethen he send his buttons in spite of mother and me; but when he look atfather he think better of it, and go off very civil in the carriage hecome by, only say he would find out in spite of us.
And please Miss Clara dear, mother say she be ashamed to send you aparcel all rubbage, except the pictures, but she do hope they wont cheatyou about them there, for they be the finest ever come to these parts,and warranted real London made. All the farmers hereaway want to buythem of us. And father say, "Dang the pictures, tell Miss Clara to cometo us, and her shan't want Beany Dawe's things, nor the Queen's millereither." Oh do come, Miss Clara dear, the banks be yellow withprimroses, and white and blue with violets, and I know three blackbirdsnests already and an ousel's down by the river. Oh do come. I have gotsuch a lot to tell you, things as I can't make head or tail of when Itry to spell them, and you shall milk my own cow Sally, and have all myblack hen's eggs, and the ducks too if they hatch,--and sling all thesmall potatoes from the plough field to the hazel hedge. Your bestscholar as ever was and loving pupil.
SALLY HUXTABLE."