:

With a hint which from one hitherto so successful in his suggestions was of more weight than an argument from other men, the crowd made a rush to one corner of the open space in which stood the "Bull Pup" house of entertainment for man and beast. (In this case the two names only showed the redundance of Dummy's style of eloquence.) Thence they drew a machine which seemed to have been made to their order, it was so exactly the thing. It was a crane upon wheels, and being brought into a convenient position relative to the recumbent mass, straps and ropes were poked under the untouched carcase, buckled skilfully above his breast, and attached to the powerful pulleys of the crane. "Heave away!" was the appropriate signal; and, in due time, Dummy was once more a perpendicular being his consciousness of degradation wofully alive, his huge clasp-knife speedily dived for, brought up, and used to the cords of his captivity; and then, summoning up his long arrears of anger and hate, he made the very mud on his face to parch and crack, and pale from the black fury of his scowl, and sidled off to the accompaniment of a long dog-like yell, buried himself in the recesses whence his victim had just escaped, and was seen more among men. Few had either courage or curiosity enough to seek him out in his rampant misery of rage, and not a soul on all God's earth had ever loved him. In a few weeks the dust was observed to grow thicker on the curtained window-pane; the lingering paint peeled from the still unopened door; moss, fungus, and straw lay littering on the steps; the wailing of the dogs had ceased; Dummy had been "wanted," and he had gone. Except that tempted virtue and timid spousal love breathed more freely, there was little sign that he had gone; but if the wayfarer, sauntering through the church graveyard of Arlton, should be struck with a tombhead of painted wood, near to the pathway which leads to the parsonage meadows, and noticeable for the size of the inscriptional letters, and should bethink him of Dummy, he will have the gratification of knowing, that by reason of a grammatical error (accidental or not), for once in a way, a memorial of the departed was made to speak only and wholly the truth. This is the admixture of formal error and pure truth, as may

D

no

be seen by all who visit Dummy's last and only peaceful home: "To the Memory of one Dummy Bowler, for 35 years landlord of the Bull and Pup public-house, which was greatly regretted by a large circle of neighbours."

We turn from the spider to the fly-to the unhappy and fallen Simon. After long and vain pummelling at his prison door, and three attempts to pick the lock, (it was rather in his line, but he had nothing but his nails for the job,) he fell into a languid and self-accusing reverie. He had heard of penitents beating their breasts and tearing their hair, and when he fell-to and found that he had scarcely any hair to pull, he prayed, oh! how he prayed, for a little hair-only a handful that he might have one good pull to prove the depth of his remorse; but he prayed in vain : so he took to the other appointed pantomime of grief, and fisticuffed his breast almost into a state of cancer. The uproar from with

He felt

out broke on his ear like the hoarse murmur of the distant sea. He trembled as he listened; and when at length he could stand uncertainty no longer, come what might, he sprang like a chafed lion at the door, and fell through it, right into the arms of his expectant friend, "the Drum." unequal to the task of explanation just then, but there was a pathos in the very silence, an appeal in the downcast eyelids, which sank to the very soul of the sympathizing Drum; and while the one felt almost happy at the very soreness of his anguish, the other felt not less happy that for one proud moment he had it in his power to exercise the charity of forgiveness, of which his own past life had so often stood in need. Poor Simon would fain have contented himself with that silent and private confession of his shame, but just at that point the great struggle in the street had come to a close, the strong draught up the passage was burdened with the chorus of victory, and tainted with the retreating presence of Dummy. To meet him just then was to brave him at his worst, and for this Simon the penitent was ill-prepared.

Accordingly, with a vow that he would call at the "Bull Pup" some of these days, and settle that particular score, he slunk into the back yard, leaving his tight little friend to face the defeated giant; and having scrambled through the

ash-hole into a back street, the door to which was generally locked on account of the dogs, he ran like a hunted hare, twisting and turning in his course, avoiding the ways where company was likely to be met with, yet heedless of all else and desperate through shame, and rushed without due notice of his approach into the very bosom of his dishonoured and sorrowing family. There, indeed, if anywhere, surely he might hope to find the balm which his spirit greatly needed; but it was there that his sin had wrought most grief, and might have wrought endless mischief,-and there, where his sin had dealt so heavy a blow, it was meet that he should be made to feel it. The wifely Bridget gave him the meeting he had looked for. Her anxiety, long suspense, shame, and fear, had of course knocked all her holiday dreams out of her poor head; and as an outward and visible sign of her temporary widowhood, she had plunged into the absorbing duties of the wash-tub, once fondly intended to stand over till the morrow; and whether from the abundance of her tears, or the caustic strength of her soap, the splash in the face with which she greeted her recreant lord, made him howl like a whipped cur; while she, in all the dignity and freedom of much-injured virtue, scolded and scalded the culprit without mercy. Emulous of her zeal, the many children of his love flew at his shins, and nipped and pinched them black and blue, crying out, in the only language of reproach their small memories could suggest, that he was a beast, and a drunkard, and was bringing the grey hairs of his children to the grave.

With a heart so softened to begin with, there could be no resentment—no sly, spiteful kicks in return,-no reply to the tearing eloquence of Bridget. He knew it was all true, and his own conscience had rehearsed the accusations so correctly, that they could not take him by surprise. He might have stood for the portrait of a fool and a felon, but for the tears that came fast and hot on his cheeks, telling of a love in his own breast that had also suffered cruelly from his folly. The sympathy between those two fond hearts was not dead because he had transgressed. His tear fell upon the chord, and the sobbing of forgiving kindness trembled in response. Bridget was a coarse being, and had a spice of the termagant in her

general temper; but for her simple good man she had always a reserve of affection; and when she saw that he really fainted for lack of it, she brought it forth like the box of precious ointment, and broke it at the wanderer's feet, while the little ones were soon remorseful in their turn, and brokenhearted to see their great daddy crying.

When the Drummer reappeared in the street, and re-slung his instrument in silence, many were the inquiries of the crowd as to the fate and the whereabouts of his friend; but, big with his mystery, he only shook his head, as though he could say, but would rather not; and it was only when the amiable secretary pressed for information, that he condescended to whisper that Simon was safe, and at home. The order of march was speedily resumed, and though there was a hang-dog look rather, under the affected gaiety of those who had taken the more active share in the late frolic, that soon wore away, and the music again gave-or rather took -time to the pace of the procession.

CHAPTER VII.

THE park in which several hours of the day were to be spent was at no great distance from the town, and they soon came in sight of its inviting outline. The ground had been purchased by one who was not only the friend, but the founder of their Society, and as soon as it had put on the promise of being one day a beautiful resort for the sons of toil, it was made over in trust for ever to the people of Arlton. The privileges of the park were by no means confined to the teetotallers of the town; for, amongst more general reasons, the giver ventured to believe that, sooner or later, all the poor, at any rate, would renounce the use of that which they would one day regard as slavery and ruin. But it did not escape him, nor does it need any particular demonstration from us, that in bestowing such a boon upon the town at large, he was in effect making it over mainly for the pleasure and advantage of sober and upright men. All might use it, but none could

truly sympathize with his own simple passion for the beauties of creation and culture, unless free from the false excitements of drink.

No very particular plan of spending the day had been sketched out on this occasion, because it had been found in past years, that in spite of the most laboured arrangements for universal fun, young and old alike soon got beyond control, and would have their own way of enjoying themselves. As soon, therefore, as the orderly line passed the garden gates, it broke at once into a hundred groups, who scattered themselves, as if by magic, all over the grounds; and many a young gentleman swift of foot and cunning in design, found to his astonishment that the cosy little chair, or grotto, or bank, on which his desires had all along been fixed, was occupied by more fortunate and equally active friends, who looked as if they had settled down for life, or, at least, as if they had never stirred since that time last year. As each one was free (except in the very proper case of family arrangements) to do just as he or she might choose, it will not surprise the thoughtful reader to learn that, with one consent, the company began to dine. Eating and drinking is the great bond of social life in England-dinner, the central fact of the day,-all before it is preparation, all afterwards is digestion and washing up; and whatever may be the secondary business or merriment, dinner is the prime consideration. Business

is submitted to in the fore part of the day as a means by which dinner is to be earned; in the afternoon it is resumed under the influence of a vague notion that the indulgence of the natural appetite must be atoned and paid for. In all outof-door festivity, what is it that overshadows the levity of the young, cuts short the mountebank frivolities of men old enough to know better? What is it that clogs the soaring sentiment of early teens, and redoubles throughout that carnival of thoughtlessness all matronly care, and gives an unusual severity to the tones of conjugal remonstrance ? What is it, we ask, but that the dinner lies heavy on every mind, as it has hung already on many an arm, and will, no doubt, shortly on every stomach. When we use high-sounding phrases, such as gala, or pic-nic, or festival, or holiday, or treat,-or the less sublime