Friarswood Post-Office

his neglect, perhaps he would have been more

never stirred till next morning he was wakened by Tom Boldre, the shuffler, kicking him severe

in the dark loft. The shuffler scarcely gave him an instant to put them on, but

and no good labourers liked to work with him because of his tongue. With such grown men as he had, he was obliged

h was enough to cause displeasure; and besides, Boldre had heard Paul coming

y, and thus asked, he would not tell, but st

e back door; 'why, don't ye hear that Mrs. Barker's hen-roost

ed!' cried Pa

on't tell me this moment where you've been, off you go

l. 'I went to Elbury after som

se opposite, which would not let him c

ne word of it! Send him off; take my advice, Farmer, let him g

f the labourers, who was carrying out some manure, called out, 'No, no, Ma'am. Sure enough he did go to Elbury to Dr. Blunt's. I was on the road myself

to his master, 'and then Mrs. King gave me so

spitefully, 'having a vagabond scamp like that drinking beer at

the farmer, turning on Paul angrily; 'd

an, with a foolish face, not a good workman, nor a good character, or he would not have been at that farm. He had either never been taught anything, or had forgotten it all; he never went near church; he had married a disreputable wife, and had two or three unruly children, who were likely to be the plagues of their parents and the parish, but not a whit did John heed; he di

m, as if he were hunted and driven about, a mere outcast, despised by every one, even by the Kings, whose kindness had been his only ray of brightness. Not that his senses or spirits were alive enough even to be conscio

to break the silence: 'I

nd muttered, 'I h

meful,' repeated John

cross him that they too thought him a runaway from prison, and he felt as if his only bond of fellows

n, 'what good'

aul, who knew John Farden would no

t'll they

ul; and as he said the words there was hope and refreshmen

ken to his horse, 'rum sort of a head thou'st

ather sullenly; 'it ain't th

his face looking more foolish

d, 'and what w

out of his sad heart, 'It's bad enough here, to be sure. It

ot go on talking to Paul. Perhaps there was a dread in his poor dull mind

ope for. There was the Confirmation nigh at hand, and then on beyond there was rest; and the wor

s person was telling on him; he was less healthy and strong than he had been, and though high spirits, merriment, and the pleasure of freedom and independence, had made all light to him in the summer, yet now the cold weather, with his insufficient food and scanty clothing, was dulling him and deadening him, and hard work and unkind usage seemed to be grinding his very senses down. To be sure, when tw

her head that Paul Blackthorn was in the secret, and that if he did really go for the medicine as he said, it was only as an excuse for carrying the chickens to some receiver of stolen goods. She had no notion of any person doing anything out of pure love and pity. Moreover, it is much easier to put a suspicion

r, she would have answered for his honesty as readily as for that of her own brothers. But hers had not been the charity that thinket

from Mrs. King, a mere civil answer from Ellen, those two sights of the white spirit-looking Alfred, were like the rays of light that shone into his dark hay-loft. Sometimes he heard them singing their hymns and psalms on a Sunday evening, and then the tears would come into his eyes as he leant o

ng about with false tales, was like a weight upon his sunken spirits, and seemed to take away all the little heart hard usage had left him,

to Harold, 'Did your sister real

what our Ellen say

d she s

thinks no one that comes up-stairs in dirty shoes worth spe

ward, the sexton's wife, the same who had bound up his hand when he cut it at harvest, even asked him to come in and help her boys in the evenings with what they had to prepare for Mr. Cope. He was not sorry to do so sometimes. The cottage was a slatternly sort of pla

im a pipe once, but Paul could not smoke, and another time brought him out a pint of beer into the field. Mrs. Shepherd

came colder, the poor boy seemed to have no power of thinking of anything, but of so getting through his work as t

the last time he went to Mr. Cope's, he sat as if he were stupid or asleep, a

y 'Examined and APPROVED,' as the poor lonely outcast foundling, Paul Blackthorn, who could not even tell whether he were fifteen, sixt

e it you now, Paul?' asked Mr. Cope, recollecting t

They were all one hole, and that sad lost foolish lo

ward stepped forward. 'Please, Si

a shilling, 'Look here, Charles, do you think you can manage to get that poor fellow a tolera

and Harold King was in it too, though he was not of the Confirmation party, and said and thought he was very gla

called out, 'I say, you Paul, you come in to-morrow evening wi

might actually have washed himself; but he was much too big and too shamefaced a lad to fancy sharing a family scrubbing by a woman, whatever she might do to her own sons.

ppearance, and she made a face of great disgust when Charles sai

I know,' said Mrs. Hayward. 'Not as I grudges the trouble; h

g the cup of cold water, as well as being liter

arswood, in any one going up to the Bishop in such a condition as Paul. Especially, as Charles Hayward said, when he was the pick of the whole lot. Perhaps Charles was right, for surely Paul was single-hearted in

d. He had just pulled his bed of hay down over him, and was trying to curl himself up so as to stop his teeth from chatteri

ing,' cr

d him terribly; he was so much used to ill-treat

t closed on him, thoug

id John Farden's voice. 'Don'

t the horses?

oing up to yon big parson all one muck-he

in the grasp of that big hand like a mouse in the power of a mastiff. So he let himself be hauled down the ladder, into an empty stal

en scrubbed with such hearty good-will, that Paul thought his very skin would come off. But he had undergone the like in the workhouse, and he knew how to accommodate himself to it; and when his rough bath was over, though he was very

ing's work, so that Mr. Shepherd grudgingly consented to spare him, knowing that all the

mforter, and he was sure he wanted comfort; and that for some hours of this day at least, he should be at peace from rude words and blows, when

nt mood, nor did he think Mr. Cope would consider it befitting. He would have let them go by, feeling himself such a scare-crow as they might think a blot

n!' called Harold, wi

aul, 'what do

, and yo

Hayward there? Just ask him for

came. Harold led him to the stable, where just within the door stood a knot of stout hearty boys, snorti

and he had got hold of the only but

ere fumbling at his fastenings. They were each one much stronger than he was now, and they drowned

nts,' said George Grant, 'only we won't have them as

aid Charles Hayward. 'She said she'd throw it at his h

My! they be a sight too big in the band! Run in,

aid Fred Bunting. 'He's too big too; wh

ll,' said Charles, 'and here's Ned's cap f

in the boots, but to satisfy the boys he engaged t

e,' cried Charles, running bac

?' exclaimed Harold, jumping leap-f

med Jem Hayward; 'and why, bless me, he's washed, I do decla

ok! yes, I protest, why, the old grime between his ey

Alfred, who well knew what was going on, raised himself on his pillow and laughed. It was rather blunt treatment

?' asked Charles impo

les had brought in a black coffee-pot, a large mug, some brown sug

quantity of sugar, another to pour in the brown coffee that sent out a refreshing steam enough to make any one

ul on the back. 'Mr. Cope said you was

le to help a pull at the coffee, th

George Grant; 'we are only come to make you eat y

e Grant was a big hungry lad, and his breakfast among nine at home had not been much to speak of; but savoury as was the sausage, and perfumy as was the coffee, he would have scorned to take a fragm

not a bad preparation fo

felt as if he had the more time to enjoy himself; but there were those who felt very sad for him-Alfred, who would have given so much to receive the blessing; and Ellen,

o be confirmed. Little Miss Jane sat inside in her white dress and veil, looking like a snowdrop, Alfred thought,

d, to think of the blessing she was receiving, and to pray that it might rest upon her through lif

if I thought Harold would take up for good and be a better bo

whether he should be able to get out in th

looked gentle and happy, and the first thing she did was to bend

ry Church, and the great numbers of young girls and boys on the two sides of the aisle, and of the Bi

able to see Mr. Cope in his surplice, looking so young among the other clergymen, and coming a little forward, as if to count out and encourage his own flock. She w

other people, when the Friarswood boys went up. Only she had passed him on the way home, and seen that

orrow evening, and drink tea there, in celebration of the

th came into the house fresh and glowing with the b

e Grange to-morrow. My Lady wants to see him, and perhaps sh

the farm. 'There's for old Skinflint!' said he; '

t poor lad would have held out much longer, winter wea

efully the farmer and Boldre treat him, and how good he was to Alfred about the ointment, and how steady he is. And I told her about the boys dressing him up yesterday, and how he wouldn't take a g

id Mrs. King; 'but he's so queer; I hope he w

d decidedly. 'I've a great mind t

ould fly out at them if she heard any noise in the yard, and that i

rm-yard, but he could not find Paul anywhere, and concluded that he

he dashed across the road again, but came b

id, and threw hims

ng and Ellen with one

have it that he's been stealing her eggs, and that there was a lantern in th

my Lady would have been the

way is he gone?

ver thought to ask! And Mrs. Shepherd was ready to pitch into me, so I got away

er bonnet, ran across the road, and tapped at Mrs. Shepherd's open door, exclaiming breat

y. 'I'm not to be looking after thieves and vagabonds. He's a c

my Lady wanted t

hepherd the more set

e place isn't to be harbouring thieves and vagrants, or who's to pay the rates? My

ggs as I throwed away when

creamed Mrs. Shepherd, turning on him. 'Ye'd best

ttered John, stopping

as gone?' asked Ellen, looking fro

I come,' replied John, 'or I

ad. 'And as to you, Ellen King, I'm surprised at you, running afte

Mrs. Sh

ed Mrs. Shepherd; 'and I wonder your mother allo

he hardly knew how, to her home, clapped the door after, and dropping into a chair as Harold had done, burst into such a

ed out among her sobs; 'and

brothers to guess at the worst part of the 'such things;' and recovering herself a moment, she said, 'No, no, they'v

bitterly again; while her mother and

rmatory-and that she should remember it! Now I've t

words! id