Bristol Bells: A Story of the Eighteenth Century

t their longest, that Mrs Chatterton sprang to the door of he

on was as fervent as if they had been parted for a month instead of o

the reply, 'too restless to come hither to tr

turning ere long. You will bear me company till she returns. Have you h

ng greeting of his mother had kindled there, was gone; his

d the boy paced the little room, with his hands at his back, his head bent, not uttering another word for ten minutes. Presently he shook off his

? A new ser

l bring her here, poor soul! I pity her as I pity anyone who has to deal with th

ember him, and hi

said Henderson descended. Then he put a bundle on the pavement, next a box, next a big bunch of gillyflowers and roses, and n

ss Rumse

she, "Good-bye, Jack. Come and see me soon, and-" Then came a voice from the parlour, "Sam, take the young woman's box to her chamber, and walk in here, Miss Palmer." Then the vision passed, and I was in the street bidding Jack Henderson good day as he clambered up to

brought her to

Madam Lambert's lips. Well, the poverty will make a bond between this young lady and me; and when I asked her if sh

foreno

ll have her slaving

ng up a flight of narrow stairs to t

ere for long, Tom?' his

rret where he kept all his old parchments, his charcoal, his books, and various p

469, for Master Canynge,' had been favourably received by no less a personage than Horace Walpole. The spring of that year had been the springtime of Chatterton

deceived, who might n

t. For now June had come, and other specimens of Rowley's extraordinary gifts were not even acknowledged, nor could his repe

f one of our public schools, in the sixth form, is the age of this poor lawyer's apprentice, whose short life was filled

house in Dowry Square was exactly as C

cart rumble off, and took up her posy of gillyflowers and her s

wn from head to foot, and

t by the grate, but I like no litters made by flowers or anything else. You may sit down whil

leaving home a little. I shall soon get used to it; and I am m

w stairs when fine cooking is needed. My son brings in a friend to supper sometimes, for cribbage, and he is very particular about the pas

can do it,'

trim, and neat in the afternoon, and sit here and read to me, darn stockings-my son's and mine-and mend fine lace, and-well-a hundred other jobs which I need not count up now. There is no one in the house but yourself and an apprentice, who is bound to my son-worse luck-an idle good-for-nothing, with wh

hanges of gown

is near that now. You can take your meals with us, and see my friends when they visit me. There, no

and was thankful to get

Mr Lambert whom she wanted to see, and sh

friends to sup, and Bryda must make a cake and some apple pies, and

a had of the apprentice at the d

ve o'clock she found him seated at a very untem

open before him, and only now and then swallowed a bit of the unsavoury morsels provided, and pre

m she placed, with rather a bad grace, a rolling pin and flour and butter on a board

r paste than mine! You'd best be careful or you'll catch it. If ever there was a fidget about his food it's Master Lambert. Come, no

ooked up from hi

, or rather the

e office again till one o'clock, when Mr Lambert left it to

d sat down on a stool by the fi

e was watching the lithe, gra

retty rounded arms were seen to advantage as she mixed the flour

terton's presence, but he

yes fixed on her. It was not an impertinent gaze like that of Sq

' he began, 'what made

m poor, and wish to

on's eye

to be poor

id, 'it need n

r rolling and kneading.

a lawye

apprentice,

aw to ask Mr Lambert and I

. Well, what is

to a bond, and the man to whom he owed the money died befor

ond that the heirs of his body shoul

th a sigh, and Chatterton saw her wipe

oor. I have a good mother, and if you would like to see her she would be prou

will come,'

to guide you to St Mary's grand church. It is there my father

of the "Fryars passing over the old Bridge" in

poem called the "Tragedy of ?lla." The minstrel's song would be to your taste, perhaps.

am friendless in Bristol except for one,'

n, whom his uncle is trying to polish as he pol

e on the defe

d true friend, sir, nor ca

id, and the next minute Bryda was lef

t me for promising to go with that strange boy, but what fire there

was abruptly broken in

care of yon fellow. I think an evil spirit is in hi