|Newspaper Title||The Queenslander (Brisbane, Qld. : 1866 - 1939)|
|Trove Title||Adam and Eve|
Adam and Eve.
BY MRS. PARR, Authoress of "Dorothy Fox," "The Gosau Smithy," &c., &c.
To Joan's great satisfaction Adam accepted the hand which Jerrem proffered, exchanged a few indifferent remarks, and then by degrees sank down into that distant coolness more fatal to the
re-establishment of friendship than an open rupture is. In answer to some questions put by Joan, Jerrora said he had left Jersey on the provious Sunday, and had come across in the Long Bet, of Cawsand, a vessel apparently en gaged in the same free-trade at the Lottery. He Hpoke of the places he had visited and tho people he had seeu, but beyond these and like remarks no mention was made as to his absence, or the cause of his being left behind. Eve, who had expected to find Jerrem another stalwart sailor, was surprised to Bee a Bhort slim young fellow with a pleasant face and an irresistible flow of spirits, with which at once he seemed to infect everyone but Adam ; who, notwithstand ing the efforts made by Joan aud Eve, continued to sit silent aud glum, answering the questions put to him, but refusing to be drawn into the general conversation. This moodiness, however, was no check to Jerrem, who rattled away during the whole of supper-time with a volubility which increased rs the two girls, fiuding their efforts fruitless, re signed themselves to boiug amused, and gradually became so engrossed with their merriment and bauter that during long lapses of time Adam and his ill-humor were forgotten. At length tho push ing back of his chair with unueceasary violence recalled them to a souse of his presence, after which he got up, took a cigar from his pocket and, leaning across for tho candle, hold it while he procoeded to take a light. ' Why, you aiu't goiu' out, Adam, to be sure !' exclaimed Juan, now fully alive to the offence they had given. 1 What ?' said Adam, continuing to puff away at his cigar. ' You ain't goin' out, not now I' repeated Joan. ' Yes, I am !' he said, waiting to set down the oandle before he gave the answer. ' Why ! is there any reason why I shouldn't go ?' ' No, no reason,' SRid Joan ; ' only 'tis gettin' so lute, and we two shall be off to bed almost directly.' ' Oh ! indeed !' and Adam's face expressed the astonishment he desired to imply. ' Really, I thought from present appearances that you were ettlod for the night.' ' Aud why not V put in Jerrem. ' I for one am ready to make n night of it. Come, what do cc aiy to a brew o' good punch—eh, Joan T Where's the grog to I out with it, my maid, and * Tho right of ropiihliohing " Ailnm and Era" in CJuooiiil;iii'l has been i>urch:u<xl by the proprietors of the QMtnsUimla:
let's draw round the fire and have a song ;' and throwing his arm round Joan's waist he trolled out in :iu uncommonly musical voice : 'Twas landlady Me? that made such rare flip ; Pull away, pull away, my hearties ! At Wapping she lived, at the Bign o' the Ship, Where tars met in such jolly partiea. Portion—whore tars—• But the remainder of the chorus was drowned by the clung of the house-door, as Adam alainmed it violently after him. • 0 Lord, there's thfl fat in the fire again,' ex claimed Joan, despondingly. 'Never mind—what'B the odds, so long as you're happy ?' laughed Jerrem, paying no more heed that the door had been slammed by Adam's exit than if its bolts and bars had been Bhaken by a gust of wind. 1 Hapy !' echoed Joan in a tone of vexation. '133, that's all very fine for you ; but Eve and me's had so much o' it aa us can carry in wan day, haven't us, Eve ? He'd scarce so much as set foot inside the doors afore he began with his tan trums.' ' Blawed out o' Plymouth in a contrairy wind,' suggested Jerrotn, who continued to busy himself in stirring the fire, putting on the kettle, and getting out fresh glasses. •I wish to goodness, then, 'twould blow un back agen,' Bighed Joan ; 'there or anywheres, so long as he'd stay 'till he felt a bit more peaceable. I declares you may so well try to walk on the hedge o' a knife as hope to please him wheu he's in one o' these quondaries.' 1 But what on earth could have angered him now V exclaimed Eve ; cho seemed so sorry that he'd been out of temper, he quite begged my pardon about it.' 1 Then, I say, Joan, let's me and you ax of un to beg our pardons, shall us V said Jem-em, with a comical look. 'Lors, come along, do, 1 he added, pointing to a low chair which he had placed for her next bis own ; 'or afore we gets settled hs'U have un back agen. So out with the liquor, any ways ; and, if we can't get punch, give us a drop 0' grog.' Joan placed the bottles on the table, taking out at the same time the little flowered glass which Bhe had previously given to Eve. ' What do 'cc think ?' she said, as she set it in front of her ; ' till her corned here her never so much as tasted spirits o' no kind ; and now,' she added, judging the surprise she must be occasion ing in her hearer,' hera only just put her lips to it, so 'tis no good 0' mixin' nothin' worth drinkin' for Bhe.' ' All right,' said Jerrem, ' you leave that to me. I kuow the sort o' brew that tickles the maidens' fancy. You won't say no to what I'll make for ye, miss." 'Miss,' laughed Joan. 'Why, call her Eve, to be sure, Jerrem ; her's bo muoh a cousin to'ee as I be, and,' Bhe continued assuming to whisper, ' sent a kiss to 'cc, too, on that letter you haven't a got, same as I did.' ' Oh, Joan, how can yon !' exclaimed Eve, her face getting very red and confused. ' Come, I like that,' cried Joan ; ' how could you ? 'Tis truth, though, a reg'lar smackin' one, too, so big round as so'—and she pouted up her lips into a rosy button, which to Jerrem looked so irresistible that, deferring the payment he evidently intended making to Eve, he made a dart at Joan, thereby affordiug an opportunity for Eve to escape, which she, utterly unmindful of her foot, managed to effect by running up the Btairs which opened out behind her. ' Her'll be down agen in a minute, I reckon,' said Joan. But, so long as Joan stayed, Jerrem was perfectly indifferent as to what Eve might do ; and, resuming his Beat and his grog, he tried to entice Joan to Bit down by his side, but of no avail, for Joan, remembering the hurt foot, in sisted on taking the candle to run upstairs and Bee what Eve was about; and when some minutes later she returned Bhe informed Jerrem that Eve had gone up* for good and all, and that she'd only come down to say good-night to him. ' Oh, good-night,' said Jerrem; and Joac, knowing by his voice that he was not very pleased, endeavored to propitiate him by making some remark which led to an answer, and gradually expanded into a gossip, the principal topics being Eve and Adam ; and Joan had just commenced a whispered account of how Adam had burnt the lace, when a footstep close outside the door made her exclaim : ' I say, here he comes ; I'm both ered if he shall know that her ain't here too !' and with a sudden movement she blew out the candle, so that when Adam opened the door it was to find the room empty, while the still bright wick and thu scampering of footsteps told him that it was only at his approach that the happy party had taken flight. He drew a chair over to the fire and flung himself down in no enviable mood, debating what course he should take. His strong desire was to make Jerrem come down, and then and there have a settlement of the long array of aggravations which for months had beeu smouldering between them. He regretted beyond meaaure that he had accepted his haud—a thing he had resolved not again to do ; only that, comiug upon him sud denly as ho had done, tho desire to avoid another outbreak before Eve had made him first waver, and finally give way ; and his reward had been that from the moment Jerrem appeared Eve had had eyes and ears for no one else. Might he not have known it would be so ? had he ever cared for the affection of any thing or person but Jerrem had stepped in between them ? That birthright of mother's love which, whole aud undivided, 6hould have becu his and only his, Jerrem had stolen from him ; that first place in his father's heart Jerrem had ousted him from, so that the want of toloranco he often showed towards the old man's failings sprang as much from wounded vanity as from wounded morality. Did he single out a companion, Jerrom lured him away ; if he made an acquaintance, Jerrem captivated him from his side ; tho very dog that Adam called his own Jerrem could entice from his heels ; ;ind, if he chose to put forth his arts among the crew, Adam's sound reasoning and common-sense arguments were as idle wordi poured into deaf ears. Was this to go on for ever i and, as the ques tion rosa up in his miud, before his eyes there shaped itself a face which, though but lately seen, had so mirrored itself in Adam's heart that iU presence seemed reflected in every thought— its power felt in every action. Hitherto he had refused to ask the name of this spell, which by
turns galled him like a yoke and* then bung lightly as a chain of roses ; but now his ears tingled with the sound, and every puke that beat proclaimed that its name was love. And was this new-born happiness to be wrenched away and torn aside by one whose shallow nature had no depths to shelter more than a passing passion ? NoJ; no, a thousand times no. Rather would he pluck his heart out by the roots than run the risk of such a danger, the dim shadow of which so frenzied him that, unmindful of all else but the tumult of his thoughts, he started from his chair and paced the room with hurried steps, while those above, Hsteniug to the sound, drew each their own conclusions : Joan's cup of bitter ness sweetened by the thought that at last Adam could be made to suffer ; Eve's heart swelling with delight as she grew more conscious of her power; Jerrem's weak nature quickened into firm rosolve that, if Adam was f «rly caught, he'd have a gume with Eve too ; and repay the many stingß which Adam's way of doing right so often made him smart and writhe under. Headstrong, impetuous, led by any one ho was with, kind hearted to a fault, generous to excess, Jorrem's virtues led him into more evils than most men's vices do. He was as wax in the h:»nd of friend or foe, and was c isily persuaded t\> follow the lead of the companion who humored him most completely. Adam prided himself on nevor having stopped to gain an influence over Jerrem— a very false matter of gratulation ; as, lmd he done so, he might have turned him from much folly and many a vicious habit. For Jerreni, rattle-brained as he seemed, had enough good sense to perceive and even to admire—although ha could not emulate—Adam's good qualities, and a word of persuasion from him would have often conquered where a dictatorial rebuke only inflamed. Latterly their differences had boen more open and more frequent, and the discord kept up by Jerrem's habit of shirking all allusion to an unpleasant Bubject, and positively refusing, when the case of offence had once passed by, to give or recoive any further explanation of it. Jerrem could part with a man one day in the middle of a towering rage, and meet him the next with a pleasant smile, a shako of the hand, as if nothing had happened ; a great proof, as his friends thought, of a forgiving disposition, while, in reality, the disposition to forgive waa very trifling in comparison with his iuability to retain ; he could no more keep up anger than ho could maintain silence, prudence, or any of thoso numerous " now leaves" which he resolvrd to turn overono hour aud forgot all about the next. _ Adam, on the contrary, had no power to throw off an annoyance ; it rankled and stuck by him until the matter of it was cleared up or atoned for ; and, though a year might elapso before an opportunity occurred, when it did occur his mind reverted at once to tho quarrel, and his manner betrayed the consciousness of its presence. Born with that love of his native place which roigns suprome in every true Coruishmau's heart, Adam's early ambition had been full of schemes for the prosperity and regeneration of Polperro ; and as year by year these aspirations faded away, in the certainty that nothing short of a miracle could change oither place or people, he grew to have less sympathy for failings he had no share in, and less toleration for follies he had no temptation to. Noting his unpopularity, it stung him to the quick to see the difference made between Jerrem and himself. Jerrem welcomed, made much of, screened, confided in, while he was only sought when an arbitrator was needed ; never welcomed except some advice was wanted ; seldom trusted but when betrayal elsewhere was feared—a popu larity utterly valueless while Jerrem held the stronghold of favor, for the jealous heart has in no way changed since envious Hamaan counted all as nought bo long as Mordecai the Jew sat at the king's gate. I'Twaa all along o' his head being crammed up with a passel o' book-larnin,' was the verdict pronounced on Adam by the Polperro folk, who, while they showed no predilection for his society, could not refrain from compassionating him. A man who didn't, seemingly, care much for badger baiting, dog-fighting, rat-hunting, wouldn't drink, and seldom fought, what rational enjoyment was there left for him? So well not make money at all as not to know how to spend it when you had made it. '' fwas a complete judgment on old Zebedee's pride,' they said,'and prettily he was payin' for it now, 'stead o' bringin' up the boy in the way he should go. For to stick by his boat and stand by his cargo, fight fair and die game, was all the larnin' a Polporro lad needed ; and if that teachin' didn't make a man of him, nothin' to be larnt out of books would.' Cuaitkk XVII. Distkacted by thoughts which even in sleep still held possession of his mind, Adam gladly hailed the dawn, aud, rising with it, went out soon after to see if as yet there was any news of the Lottery. He was anxious to secure the im mediate services of Dicky Snobnose, an itinerant vendor of earthenwaro—or clorao, as it is there abouts called—who was usually engaged to dis pose of the smuggled porcelain, which, as "rale Injee chinee," was hold at that time in great repute. Lostwithiel was tho usual market, and thither, concealed ;iway under coarse basins and jugs, Dicky carried it himself; or, if of too weighty a load for his basket, packed it carefully iv the panniers of the sturdy donkey which he carefully led alonp-. Adam found that the fisher portion of the village wa3 already astir, and round and about the quay various preparations were in progress. The aea waa smooth, and encircled by a dark blue ridge of boundary, over which clouds— heavy and lowering—spread out in a leaden stretch toward the Bhore, there to meet tho mists which still hung thick, clinging to the cliffs, and obscuring all but their tall heads from view. The few boats which the dawn had found close in shore had managed to round the Peak, and now lay dotted here and there about the little harbor, waiting to clear out tho fish which they had been best part of the night en gaged in catchiug. The men lounged over the sides, calling to one another, heariug and telling of their luck, or their lack of it. The boys swung idly on the bowsprits, daring their follows to various feat* of veuture. The lookers-on gazad idly from the quay, giving, now and again, vent to an abstracted whistle, in the vague hope I
of bringing the wind and bettering the stagnation of affairs. Placing himself on a vantage-point, Adam addressed the man nearest within hearing, and, making a trumpet of his hands, shouted out an enquiry whether he had seen or heard any word of the Lottery. No, h« hail not, but he'd pass the word and ask if the others had ; the result of which was an answer returned that the Lottery was just outside, only waiting for n bit of a breeze to bring her in. His supposition thus confirmed, Adam determined to seek Dicky Snobnose without further delay, and, going across to the Three Pilchards, he found that word had been left on the previous evening that Dicky had gone to Laiisallos, where he would remain until the next day. The morning was clearing up, with a promise of brightness, so without doubt the Lottery would make all speed to get in ; and, as Adam had made arrangements for their store of spirits to be taken away, it was expedient to get the more fragile cargo olf their hands with as little delay as possible. Hin best plan would be to set off for Lausalloa at once, aud as he should have to pass the mill on his way he could easily get breakfast with his auut, and thus avoid the unplcHßantncßß which might not improbably attend anothnr home-meal. By crossing the green ho escaped again passing the house, and came at once upon the road to Crumplehorne, his pace quickening as the recollection of the previous night'B walk rose up vividly to diatutb him. Already over Hard Head the sun had made a rift in tho sky. The hoar-frost, changed into drops of dew, hung trembling on each blade of grass ; the slowly-dispelling miat curled itself into long wreaths of smoke,' which, creeping up the hill, side, vanished into space ; the dripping leaves held up their heads ; the shivering birds set up a feeble chirrup, and Adum, touched by soft memories aud the cheering prospect of a brighter day, folt the gloom which had oppressed him lifted up, his spirits heightened ; and, throwing oIT the shadows which had hithorto clouded his face, ho was able to present himself before Mrs. Tucker with a manner which gave rise to no suspicion on her part that she was indebted to aught eluo but the couveuient situation of the mill for tho pleasure of his visit. ' Well, I'm sure !' sho said, aa they seated themselves ;it the well-spread table. ' 'Tvvouldn't have biu not cxpectin' ho very much if Joan and Kvo had got up for once and gived 'cc yer breakfast 'stead 'o layiu' in their beds till nobudy knows when ; but, there, young people'B all alike now—up when they oft to be abed, and abed wheu they oft to bo up.' ' Well, they were kept up a bit lato last night,' said Adam, by way of excuse ; ' one thing was that we were late home for comiug back from Beeing Jessie Braddou ; on her way Eve managed to give a twist to her foot.' • Well, I hope to goodness, thon, that Joan had got some lily-leaves to lay to it; though 'twould be nothiu' more than I should look for to be told herd nothin' in the bouse to fly to.' • I don't know, I'm sure, what they did to it,' said Adam, carelessly ; 'it seemed rather bad at first, but I s'pose the pain went off, for she didn't appear to be doing anything to it.' ' Ah I' said Mrs. Tucker, with a little nod of contempt; I've allays heerd say that town folks is capital hands at cryin' out afore they'm hurted. What do 'cc think 'o yer cousin, then, Adam ?' Adam felt devoutly thankful that, under cover of arranging the contents of his plate (which his aunt in her hospitality had over-bountifully filled), he could avoid meeting her scrutinising gaze. 1 Oh, I think she'B well enough, bo far as maidens go,' he said at length. ' Ah, you may well say as far aB they go,' re peated Mrs. Tucker ; ' for there's but few o' them worth much, I b'lieve, nowadays, and I'm oftr-n checked from findin' more fault with Joan than I do by the thought that where you see one better there's twenty that's worse.' ' Oh, Joan's well enough,' said Adam, heartily ; ' nobody need find much fault with her. If half the women in the world were as good as Joan, there'd be double as many men with light hearts.' ' Well, I shouldn't wonder if you only speak the truth there,' returned Mrs. Tucker, com placently ; ' for 'tia more her heedless ways than any harm that her's got in her, and for that reason I'm pleased to see Eve so steady, aud not one o' your fly-away giglets, such as I could name a dozen for here ; rather too steady, I fancy, for the carryin' out o' uncle's scheme.' ' Scheme ! what scheme ?' asked Adam. ' Why, don't 'cc mind uncle's sayiu' that she and Jerrem must mako a match of it ?' ' Jerrem !' repeated Adam, eharply : c father ud much better hold his tongue about snch things. Jerrem can find a wife, I daresay, with out father helping him to look for one.1 ' Oh, well, there was no harm meant,' returned Mrs. Tucker ; aud, so far hh that gora, I was ho much in fault as your father. For Eve's a un provided-for girl, you know, Adam, aud, as Jer rem'a made to share in everythin' pretty much as if he was a son, I don't Bee, for my part, why hf* shouldn't have the keepin' o' one o' the family for it.' " He's welcome, so far as I go, to all father chooses to do for him,' said Adam ; ' but, if I'm to be asked, I'd rather he looked out for a wife somewhere else. I think our family's had pretty well enough of him without that.' cAh! and so do I too,' replied Mrs. Tucker, bristling up. ' Thero's a way o' doiu' thiugs, and a way o' overdoin' things, aud Jerrem's feet was never measured for the shoes ho stands in ; but, there, your poor mother was as blind as eraf your father is, and, if 'tis possible, more wrapped: up, so that I never got nothin' but black looks from both of 'em if ever I said a word against it.' ' He's been made too much of altogother,' said Adam, conclusively. ' However, 1 s'pose if parents choose to set up a strajager before their own son they've a right to; only let it end th»re. I wouldn't adviae Jerreiu to try any more of these cutting-out games with me.' 'And I don't wonder at 'cc sayin' so, then,' said Mrs. Tucker, sympathetically ; 'for the trodden worm will turu.' 'Ah! I don't know that thorr'u much of the worm about me,' laughed Ad.'iin, grimly ; ' but thero's a touch of atar-urußtt \vhi«*h might make ;v man think twice before he fell fi-ul of me.' And, rising from the table, he pushed bajk his chair
and put au end to tho conversation by Baying that he should have to be off now. 'And you'll tell Joan not to forget that I haven't got a match to my baain yet,' said MrH. Tucker, as Adam nodded his good-bye. * Best come down and match it yourßelf,' said Adam; 'and Sara here may stand a chance of that neckerchief [ heard promised him so long ago—eh, Sammy ?' Sammy's callow countenance expressed hiß approbation. Following Adam out, he said : 11 was amanin' to come down. Not about the handkerchcr, though,' he added, with a chuckle. ' \Vh;»t then V said Adam, absently. 'To see Eve,' replied Sammy. ' Capen Triggs to Fowey axed me, if so be he gived it to me, whether or no I'd give it to nho, and I said, "lea, I would."' ' You would what ?' said Adam, turning round ao sharply that Sammy, who always walked a step or two behind, was forced to avoid him by giving a sudden dodge on one side. 1 Why—why,' stammered Sammy, ' tell her 'bout the chap to London, how he's allays agoin' to un axin' if hers a got down all safe and that, and whether her likes it or no, and whether her bain't soon acomiu' back agen, and so on.' ' What's he called ?' asked Adam. ' Nothin' that I knows by : but her can tell 'co 'cos he seed her aboard the Mary Jane.' ' Here, you come along with me,' said Adam, holding the gate open to make sure of Sam pass ing through. ' Now,1 he said authoritatively, 'tell me from tho beginning what did Capen Triggs sny, eh V Sammy, who held Adam in the greatest awe, began to feel very uncomfortable. 'Twarn'fc no fault of mine,' ho whined out in an injured tone. 'Vv ho r>siid it was ?' said Adam, testily. ' Fault of yours, of course not; nobody's fiuding fault with you. All 1 want to know is, what did Triggs say V ' Awh !' said Sammy, greatly relieved. ' Well then, ho far as I cau, I'll tell 'cc how it was.' And with a large amount of circumlocution he related thit Captain Triggo had told him to tell live that the young man who saw her off had been down twice t'i the wharf to inquire if he'd heard any word of how she was getting on, and that he, Captain Triggs, had promised him that if ho got a chance he'd send and tell her that a few lines would be acceptable. ' And that was all ?' said Adam, fixing a search ing gaze on Sammy. •Sammy nodded his head. ' Kvery word,' he said decisively. ' All right! Then, now look here ; don't you any anything about it, but leave it to me to tell bur myself, and I'll see you get your neckerchief all right ; and, if you can keep a silent tongue, something else that I've got stowed away some whereß at home.' ' I woan't quit a siuglo ward to no livin' Bawl,' said Sammy, solemnly, his face beuuiing with anticipation. ' I reckon,' he added, with a con fidential wink at Adam, ' that thuck'ee chap's her baw, don't you V Adam did not auswer, but the look which came into his face as lie made a half-step forward cent Sammy back iuto the hedge, where he re mained, apparently paralysed, until with an effort at control Adam awuug himself rouud, and rapidly walked away, heedless of aught but the tumult of emotion which the slightest word of Ev« seemed now to stir up within him. Ever since this foyer had bet in, Adam had been torn by a hundred doubts and contradictions. While absent, the idle moments of each day seemed spent in testing the sincerity of this sudden passion. Was it real ? would it last ? Until the weight of the fear that another might step in had cant down the scale and left no further room for doubt or reason, tho balance had seemed uuducided. lint now, added to Adam's former anxiety, had come the suspicion coujured up by Saruuiy Tucker's tale. Surely it could not bo that Evo had left her beat t behind, already given to another's keeping. Tho thought turned Adam sick. Recalling to his mind the word» he once had jewted on, about her never bei'js; a sailor's wife, he asked himself, Could thero bo more in this than he had thought . Au ugly look came into Adnm'a face, and for a whilf hu lot .i b.ittle nytp. between v voice which said that no nirl would look at him as she had lowked unless ulie h.'ld her love in her own keepiug, and one that argued with a bitter sneer that women were alike and all wore false. Yes, all but 1-Jve ; for love soou triumphed over doubt, uud, growing pitiful, called reasou to its aid, winch quickly x!i»ivt:d that, after all, this man in London might bo but :i friend—that in, on Eve's p:irt ; for, with the bias of a lover's mind, Adiui refused to think that any mau could look on Eve's face and not grow covetous that she should be hifl own ; and for this reason ho would allow her that tho answeriug of en quiries like these had best be left in other hands thau her* ; and then, out of the talk that would arise from this, the task of warning her would prove an easy one, and her friend's case become a peg ou which to hang tho cautions ho wished to give although he shrank from naming Jerrem as the cause of these being given. Adam was still seemingly engrossed in these reflections when instinct made him stop, and he found himself in front o[ a long rickety gate leading to th« rather decayed-looking farm bonne at which it was Dicky Snobnone'H haoit to stay. For Buvcral minuted Adam had to stand still, trying to pull himself back into the everyday things of lit.-. Why was he here ? what had he come for ? But before tho questions were well asked th<; errand was recalled, and ho was able to put the necessary enquiries to tho girl who was somewhat lazily watching the scramble for food between two li's'.n long-bodied pigs. " Here 1 be, maister,' shouted a voice beyond ; and, turning, Adam saw Dicky makiDg towards him through the accumulation of slush and dirt with which the house was surrounded. Adam lj«'i»au to irive his inxtriictioiin, under the hope tha* I 'inky, suppling he had merely cmuo t" dolivtr tlji-si!, would iillnv. him to depart with out i-ceniuji.'^ing him -a vain delu. ion, soon dispelled by the assurance that he kuowed he should be want'd, and so had been taking it easy u:;t.il he \v;i- '•?relied ; and, sreing the cumpanion sbip ;uiijv.iid:ible, v.i'Ji as gniid a show of graco R iMlild be by Millrn ilCipiii'FCeiU'O, the two uii'ii sot. oil' at a l.a-isl; pai'c ;>n their nxui back to Polperro.
Dicky, a short, thick-set fellow, between forty and fifty, had his sturdy person rendered con spicuous by a startling waistcoat of red and yellow flowered velvet, the make of which, as re garded flaps and packets, carried one back for at lea>(t half a century. Dicky was a general favorite, and, on account of the store of gossip he was always in possession of, accustomed to be treated with no ordinary consideration. His itinerant calling afforded bim grand opportunities of col lecting news, and they had not gone far before, with the good-natured intent of enlivening the walk, he began rotailiug some of these to Adam, but all to no purpose ; Adam evinced not the slightest interest, and, as it gradually began to dawn upon Dicky that his eloquence was being throw away, he too relapsed into silence. ' I b'lieve I was roused up a trifle too early this morning,' said Adam, by way of apology. 1 Awh !' returned Dicky,' I was a reckonin' that 'twas sommat arter that fashion. It doan't seem to accord with 'cc overmuch, neither.' ' No,' said Adam, * 1 had a stiffish day yester day, and I expect I shan't have much time for keepin' my hands in my pockets to-day.' ' For why, thin ?' 'Oh ! 'tißn't the china. I know you can manage all that; but they're comin' to clear the liquor off from our place.' ' Awh !' and Dicky drew in his breath in signification of his appreciation. 'Them's the times ! I minds bein' at plenty of 'em afore now —brandy—rum—so much and mor« than you liko to call for ; nothin' scarce but water. That's what's up, is it V he added, with visible vexation. 1 Soas ! but I wishes I warn't astartin' ; it's 'nuf to make anybody poor-tempered to know they'm missin' such a game as that's like to be.' 11 wish the whole concern was at the devil !' exclaimed Adam, passionately, the thought of how Eve might be affected by such coarse revelry comiug with all its force before him. ' Divil !' echoed Dicky, ' howdivil! Awh, my dear !' he contiuued reproviugly, ' you might find Bomefin' wus to wish he than a cargo o' good liquor. Why, what dee mane by such words— —eh?1 ' Mean ! that I'm sick o' this everlasting drink ing,' said Adam ; ' what good does it do to a man?' ' Wa-all, that depends on how you carries what you takes,' said Dicky, sententiously. ' I know you'm but a poor ship to put a good cargo into, though why it should be so, seem' you was abroft up to it, I caa't say. But there,' he added, after some reflection, ' 'tis the same with mate as 'tis with drink—some can't abide thickee and t'other man can't touch thuckee ; now I'm none o' that sort, thank the Lord for it, I'm a regular epicoor, I be ; I can ate and drink anything, I can, and that's aB it should be, and what man was in tended for.' [TO UK CONTINUED.]
We have much pleasure in welcoming the first number of the Pacific Weekly, the new periodical issued in Sydney by Mr. John Warde. In ap pearance and general get-up it resembles the Spectator, and is printed in broad columns, and clear and very legible type, and the quality of the matter contaiued in it fully sustains the good effect produced by its outward appearance. The first three pages contain short paragraphs, con* taining news and comments thereon, written iv a pleasant and readable style. After the para graphs are skc pages of longer articles on the topics of the day. The topics selected ore partly of political and partly of sooial interest. In their treatment a high degree of literary excellence is noticeable. The papers on the " Political Situation iv England," and " Forster and Fact," are particularly well written. " Club Gossip " is a specimen of that kind of writing which suffers by comparison with the rest of the paper. Poetry iucludes an address by " The Pacific Weekly to the Reador," from the pen of Mr. Brunton Stephens, who escapes from the plati tudes that seem inevitable iv an introductory notice with a humorous dexterity which few but himself could equal. The other copy of verses, " I kuew I must be dreaming," is poor. Per haps the bibgraphical sketch of Sir Henry Parkes, under the head of " Local Celebrities," is in its way the best thing in the paper before üb. It is kindly in tone, but without being too Mattel ing draws a very graphic picture of the man without being offen sively personal, and impart* a general interest into the subject. Keviews of books and colonial periodicals follow, then Art Gossip, and finally there is a bouutif ul instalment of a tale, " Under tho Changing Sky," which promises well. Mr. Warde has evidently aimed at the production of a high-class periodical, and he has succeeded. If he maintains his standard the Pacific Weekly must win a good place for itself among the best Australian publications. We can honestly say that we hope this will be the case, not merely because we desire to see the venture of a Queensland presßman prosper, but because he has produced a paper which, on its own merits, deserves to succeed. " Ben Changeß the Motto," a political brochure, by the author of "Giux'B Baby," with illustra tions by Linley Sainbourne, is shortly to make ita appearance. The last mail from Weßt Africa bringß intel ligence that Captain Easton, her Majesty's consul, had been a long distance up tht> River Niger, above the confluence of the Binue. His destina tion was the capital of the Sultan of Nupe's dominions, where he was ordered to take presents from her Majesty's Government. He was well received at Bidn, and remained there for a week. Mits. Rose Lathkoi1, a daughter of Nath.-.nicl Hawthorne, is contributor to her hu*band'H paper, the Boston Courier. She in also a good painter. Senok Castelar will visit Oxford in June for the purpose ot delivering a lecture on the points of resemblance and analogy, not only between Spauinh and English literature, but also between the institutions and early muuicipal regime of both countries iv the Middle Ages, before the Houso of Austria entered the Peninsula,