DECEMBER. 317 



the better for the blows it has borne, and a pen- 

 sion of a few shillings a-week to get drunk upon- 

 He soes home to discover that death has been 

 as busy there as in the battle-field, in the Wal- 

 cheren morass, or the plague-haunted garrison ; 

 and to find it, even with his pension, but weary 

 work waiting for the grave. 



But alas ! for the poor creatures I am now 

 bound to sketch. Had fortune but been tolera- 

 bly moderate with them they would never have 

 gone ten miles from the spot in which they were 

 born ; but some sudden distress arouses them 

 from their regular dream of existence, and they 

 start across the country to its farthest extremity 

 with the wildness of comets. 



Look at that middle-aged, old-fashioned fel- 

 low ? Do you not see the cause of his journey 

 at once ? He. is a labourer : his eldest daughter, 

 a girl of seventeen, is gone to live in the family of 

 some relation of the Squire's, forty miles oif. He 

 has just heard news that has alarmed him. His 

 wife and he have sate in speechless grief and 

 consternation for a space, till the good woman 

 cried out, " John, you must up and go ! you 

 must see Mary. You must learn the whole 

 truth. She was always a good girl, and we 

 must not have her lost." For a moment, the 

 very idea of the journey, and the encountering 

 of fine folk, and clever folk to boot, as he wisely 



