wrung her hands with violent expressions of sorrow—'Bad luck to me! bad luck to me! —Why didn't I go sooner to that there Castle? It is all luck, all luck in this world; but I never had no luck. Think of the luck of these childer, that have found a pot of gold, and such great, grand friends, and a slated house, and all: and here am I, with scarce a rag to cover me, and not a potato to put into my mouth!—I, that have been looking under ground all my days for treasure, not to have a halfpenny at the last, to buy me tobacco!'
'That is the very reason that you have not a halfpenny,' said Betsy. 'Here Mary has been working hard, and so have her two little sisters and her brother, for these five years past; and they have made money for themselves by their own industry—and friends too—not by luck, but by——'
'Phoo! phoo!' interrupted Goody Grope; 'don't be prating; don't I know as well as you do that they found a pot of gold, by good luck? and is not that the cause why they are going to live in a slated house now?'
'No,' replied the postmaster's daughter; 'this house is given to them as a reward—that was the word in the letter; for I saw it. Edmund showed it to me, and will show it to any one that wants to see. This house was given to them "as a reward for their honesty."'
LAZY LAWRENCE
In the pleasant valley of Ashton there lived an elderly woman of the name of Preston. She had a small neat cottage, and there was not a weed to be seen in her garden. It was upon her garden that she chiefly depended for support; it consisted of strawberry beds, and one small border for flowers. The pinks and roses she tied up in nice nosegays, and sent either to Clifton or Bristol to be sold. As to her strawberries, she did not send them to market, because it was the custom for numbers of people to come from Clifton, in the summer time, to eat strawberries and cream at the gardens in Ashton.
Now, the widow Preston was so obliging, active, and good-humoured, that every one who came to see her was pleased. She lived happily in this manner for several years; but, alas! one autumn she fell sick, and, during her illness, everything went wrong; her garden was neglected, her cow died, and all the money which she had saved was spent in paying for medicines. The winter passed away, while she was so weak that she could earn but little by her work; and when the summer came, her rent was called for, and the rent was not ready in her little purse as usual. She begged a few months' delay, and they were granted to her; but at the end of that time there was no resource but to sell her horse Lightfoot. Now Lightfoot, though perhaps he had seen his best days, was a very great favourite. In his youth he had always carried the dame to the market behind her husband; and it was now her little son Jem's turn to ride him. It was Jem's business to feed Lightfoot, and to take care of him—a charge which he never neglected, for, besides being a very good-natured, he was a very industrious boy.
'It will go near to break my Jem's heart,' said Dame Preston to herself, as she sat one evening beside the fire stirring the embers, and considering how she had best open the matter to her son, who stood opposite to her, eating a dry crust of bread very heartily for supper.
'Jem,' said the old woman, 'what, art hungry?' 'That I am, brave and hungry!'
'Ay! no wonder, you've been brave hard at work—Eh?' 'Brave hard! I wish it was not so dark, mother, that you might just step out and see the great bed I've dug; I know you'd say it was no bad day's work—and oh, mother! I've good news: Farmer Truck will give us the giant strawberries, and I'm to go for 'em to-morrow morning, and I'll be back afore breakfast.'
'God bless the boy! how he talks!—Four mile there, and four mile back again, afore breakfast.' 'Ay, upon Lightfoot, you know, mother, very easily; mayn't I?' 'Ay, child!' 'Why do you sigh, mother?' 'Finish thy supper, child.' 'I've done!' cried Jem, swallowing the last mouthful hastily, as if he thought he had been too long at supper—'and now for the great needle; I must see and mend Lightfoot's bridle afore I go to bed.'
To work he set, by the light of the fire, and the dame having once more stirred it, began again with 'Jem, dear, does he go lame at all now?' 'What, Lightfoot! Oh la, no, not he!—never was so well of his lameness in all his life. He's grown quite young again, I think, and then he's so fat he can hardly wag.' 'God bless him—that's right. We must see, Jem, and keep him fat.' 'For what, mother!' 'For Monday fortnight at the fair. He's to be—sold!' 'Lightfoot!' cried Jem, and let the bridle fall from his hand; 'and will mother sell Lightfoot?' 'Will? no: but I must, Jem.' 'Must! who says you must? why must you, mother?' 'I must, I say, child. Why, must not I pay my debts honestly; and must not I pay my rent, and was not it called for long and long ago; and have not I had time; and did not I promise to pay it for certain Monday fortnight, and am not I two guineas short; and where am I to get two guineas? So what signifies talking, child?' said the widow, leaning her head upon her arm. 'Lightfoot must go.'
Jem was silent for a few minutes—'Two guineas, that's a great, great deal. If I worked, and worked, and worked ever so hard, I could no ways earn two guineas afore Monday fortnight—could I, mother?' 'Lord help thee, no; not an' work thyself to death.' 'But I could earn something, though, I say,' cried Jem proudly; 'and I will earn something—if it be ever so little, it will be something—and I shall do my very best; so I will.' 'That I'm sure of, my child,' said his mother, drawing him towards her and kissing him; 'you were always a good, industrious lad, that I will say afore your face or behind your back;—but it won't do now—Lightfoot must go.'
Jem turned away struggling to hide his tears, and went to bed without saying a word more. But he knew that crying would do no good; so he presently wiped his eyes, and lay awake, considering what he could possibly do to save the horse. 'If I get ever so little,' he still said to himself, 'it will be something, and who knows but landlord might then wait a bit longer? and we might make it all up in time; for a penny a day might come to two guineas in time.'
But how to get the first penny was the question. Then he recollected that one day, when he had been sent to Clifton to sell some flowers, he had seen an old woman with a board beside her covered with various sparkling stones, which people stopped to look at as they passed, and he remembered that some people bought the stones; one paid twopence, another threepence, and another sixpence for them; and Jem heard her say that she got them amongst the neighbouring rocks: so he thought that if he tried he might find some too, and sell them as she had done.
Early in the morning he wakened full of this scheme, jumped up, dressed himself, and, having given one look at poor Lightfoot in his stable, set off to Clifton in search of the old woman, to inquire where she found her sparkling stones. But it was too early in the morning, the old woman was not at her seat; so he turned back again, disappointed. He did not waste his time waiting for her, but saddled and bridled Lightfoot, and went to Farmer Truck's for the giant strawberries.
A great part of the morning was spent in putting them into the ground; and, as soon as that was finished, he set out again in quest of the old woman, whom, to his great joy, he spied sitting at her corner of the street with her board before her. But this old woman was deaf and cross; and when at last Jem made her hear his questions, he could get no answer from her, but that she found the fossils where he would never find any more. 'But can't I look where you looked?' 'Look away, nobody hinders you,' replied the old woman; and these were the only words she would say.
Jem was not, however, a boy to be easily discouraged; he went to the rocks, and walked slowly along, looking at all the stones as he passed. Presently he came to a place where a number of men were at work loosening some large rocks, and one amongst the workmen was stooping down looking for something very eagerly; Jem ran up and asked if he could help him. 'Yes,' said the man, 'you can; I've just dropped, amongst this heap of rubbish, a fine piece of crystal that I got to-day.' 'What kind of a looking thing is it?' said Jem. 'White, and like glass,' said the man, and went on working whilst Jem looked very carefully over the heap of rubbish for a great while.
'Come,' said the man, 'it's gone for ever; don't trouble yourself any more, my boy.' 'It's no trouble; I'll look a little longer;