474 The Tailor of Brummelton. 



ger embracing its cousin as it were in ecstacy, and hanging his head 

 on this side and on that, trying the tints of his rich satins in the now 

 faint beams of the departing day ; ^himself the puritan, or impuritan, 

 in garb already described. 



This same evening Jenkin Slops sat within the shelter of his own 

 roof, lifted his own bowl to a capacious mouth, grasped a familiar 

 blade a peaceful one, reader, and rejoiced to sup once more off his 

 own trenchers. Jenkin was not sentimental ; but one's own utensils 

 come cheaper, and thence his gratification. The establishment of 

 which Master Slops was the head attended on the old man, a house- 

 hold consisting simply of his own daughter, and an old woman 

 neither owned by him nor by any body else. Jenkin's loves in times 

 gone by had been propitious, and Lucy, his only child, was as pretty 

 a lass as any Brummelton could boast of. The old tailor was attached 

 to her after a fashion, and it is due to him to record that his first pro- 

 ceeding on reaching his home had been tenderly to impress those 

 rosy lips of hers with a kiss. It may be surmised, however, that any 

 man having the privilege would have done as much. As for the old 

 woman (the only other mortal item on the premises), she had from 

 time immemorial swept up the crumbs from beneath Jenkin Slops's 

 frugal board, and, moreover, done her best to live upon the said 

 crumbs when so swept up ; for Jenkin did not pride himself upon 

 pampering his servants. The woman's appearance afforded spare 

 but sufficient evidence of her sparrow-like rations. 



Slops, conning over in his mind how best to make known his return 

 home, and rejoicing in the golden harvest that must naturally reward 

 his enterprise, was not in a talkative mood. His petticoated com- 

 panions might have made ample amends for this silence, but they 

 somehow felt abashed at the brevity of his replies, and nothing was 

 heard in the little circle save the efforts of the old man to overcome 

 a peculiarly hard crust. The sound of heavy knuckles at the door, 

 however, broke in upon the silence of the scene. Jenkin was un- 

 nerved, and the hard crust found its destination without further trou- 

 ble on either side. The woman made an effort to attend the sum- 

 mons ; but Lucy, more brisk, and perhaps more interested, was half- 

 way to the door before her elderly attendant had found her legs. 



" It's clear enough who we have here," said Jenkin. 



Family experience had taught the old man what might be expectedjin 

 cases where young women take a sudden fancy for answering doors, 

 and flutter to meet new comers half-way. It was Lucy's ever wel- 

 come suitor, a late apprentice of her father's, who doffed his best hat 

 on the occasion. Andrew Holecote was a tall, well-formed youth, 

 whom, in Lucy's opinion, it would have been a credit to any woman 

 to possess. He had long been accepted at the hands of papa, by tacit 

 allowance at least, as a match for the pretty daughter, and he was re- 

 cognised as such by that same pretty daughter without any reserve 

 whatever. 



Andrew was not received with any extraordinary degree of 

 warmth by the old man, who was already somewhat blinded by his 

 anticipated gains; but lovers, if they can but get a smile from their 

 mistress, are marvellously careless about the looks of the rest of the 



