586 Village Sketches. Dre. 
the matter. of shrimps, perriwinkles, nuts and apples, and such boyish: 
ware, he hath frequent traffic. He is liberal to the urchins; and Thave 
sometimes been amused to see the Wat Tyler and Robin Hood kind of 
spirit with which he will fling to some wistful penniless brat, the identical 
handful of cherries which, at the risk of his character and his customer, 
he hath cribbed from the scales, when weighing out a long-contested 
bargain with some clamorous housewife. ore apires 
Also he is an approved judge and devoted lover of country sports; 
attends all poney races, donkey races, wrestlings and cricket matches, 
an amateur and arbiter of the very first water. At every revel or Mayin 
within six miles of his beat, may Master Frost be seen, pretending to the 
world, and doubtless to his own conscience (for of all lies those that one 
tells to that stern monitor are the most frequent), that he is only there 
in the way of business; whilst in reality the cart, and the old white 
mare, who perfectly understands the affair, may generally be found in 
happy quietude under some shady hedge; whilst a black sheep-dog, his 
constant and trusty follower, keeps guard over the panniers, Master 
Frost himself being seated in full state amidst the thickest of the throng, 
gravest of umpires, most impartial and learned of referees, utterly ob- 
livious of cart and horse, panniers and sheep-dog. The veriest old 
woman that ever stood before a stall, or carried a fruit-basket, would 
beat our shrewd merchant out of the field on such a day as that; he. 
hath not even time to bestow a dole on his usual pensioners the children. 
Unprofitable days to him, of a surety, so far as blameless pleasure can 
be called unprofitable; but it is worth something to a spectator to 
behold him in his glory, to see the earnest gravity, the solemn impor- 
tance with which he will ponder the rival claims of two runners tied in 
sacks, or two grinners through a horse-collar. ; 
Such were the habits, the business, and the amusements of our old 
acquaintance Master Frost. Home he had none, nor family, save the 
old sheep-dog and the old grey horse, who lived like himself, on the 
road, for it was his frequent boast that he never entered a house, but ate, 
drank and slept in the cart, his only dwelling-place. Who would ever 
have dreamt of Jacob’s marrying! And yet he it is that has just driven 
down the vicarage lane, seated in, not walking beside, that rumbling 
conveyance, the mare and the sheep-dog decked in white satin favours, 
already somewhat soiled, and wondering at their own finery ; himself 
adorned in a new suit of brown exactly of the old cut, adding by a 
smirk and a wink to the usual knowingness of his squinting visage. 
There he goes, a happy bridegroom, perceiving and enjoying the wonder 
that he has caused, and chuckling over it in low whispers to his fair 
bride, whose marriage seems to the puzzled villagers more astonishing 
still. r 
In one corner of an irregular and solitary green, communicating by 
intricate and seldom-trodden lanes with a long chain of commons, 
stands a thatched and whitewashed cottage, whose little dovecot win- 
dows, high chimneys, and honey-suckled porch, stand out picturesquely 
from a richly wooded back-ground ; whilst a magnificent yew tree, and a 
clear bright pond on one side of the house, and a clump of horse- 
chestnuts overhanging some low weather-stained outbuildings on the 
other, form altogether an assemblage of objects that would tempt the 
pencil of a landscape-painter, if ever painter could penetrate to a nook 
so utterly obscure. There is no road across the green, but a well- 
