A Brother To Dragons and Other Old-time Tales Part 11

saith she, "'twere as well thou went for th' shoeing o' thy horse to Timothy Makeshift, as lives in Marigold Lane," saith she. "For if it come to th' ears o' others how that I will shoe a horse one day, and th'

next how that he will cast th' shoe--if it so be known," saith she, "no more custom will I get to keep my father and mother in their old age."

Then doth he leap down from his horse, and he doffs his hat as though my la.s.s had been any fine lady; and quoth he,

"Well and justly hast thou spoken; and I do stand confessed of my fault.

But, maiden, thou wast not born unto th' life thou leadest; and here in thy presence I do ask thy father to bestow upon me thy hand. I am Sir Dagonet Balfour, of Balfour Hall; and if thou art willing I will make thee my lady."

Now, I was struck dumb as though my tongue had jumped forth o' my mouth, and never a blessed thing could I do saving stare, comrade. But that la.s.s o' mine--that la.s.s o' mine, comrade--she stands and looks at him, and never so much as a glint o' red in her face. And saith she, "My lord," saith she, "if that thou meanest what thou hast said, thou hast forgotten thine estate and not remembered mine. Since G.o.d hath not made me a lady, methinks it is not in the power o' one o' His creatures so to do. But I do thank thee for seeking to honor me, and wish thee joy when thou shalt take in wedlock some highborn maiden."

Then saith he, "An I wed not thee, ne'er will I be wed. What! dost thou think I can look on in patience and see a woman such as thou following the trade of a farrier?"

Then saith she, "If Jesus Christ followed th' trade o' a carpenter,"

saith she, "sure," saith she, "Keren Lemon can follow th' trade o' a farrier," saith she--every blessed word as I tell thee, comrade. And no more would she have to do with him, but got her into th' forge and left him standing there.

Well, thou might 'a' thought that was th' end o't. Not a bit--not a bit, comrade. Th' knight would be a-riding up at all times and in all weather, and somehow 't gets out i' th' village (though not through my la.s.s, I warrant ye) as how he doth in verity seek to espouse my Keren.

Well, o' all th' tirrits and to-do's as e'er you heard on!

Methought when Mistress Lemon found out that th' girl had refused th'

gallant's offer th' house would be a tighter fit for us three than its sh.e.l.l for an unhatched chick. 'Twas worry, worry, worry, from morn till night, and from night till morn it was worry, worry, worry, till I scarce knew whether 'twould be better to murder my wife and hang for 't, or leave her alone and live with her.

"Th' hussy!" quoth she--"th' ungrateful hussy! a ought to be tossed in a blanket," quoth she, "and thou along with her, thou jack-pudding, thou ravelling!" quoth she.

"If I be a jack-pudding," saith I, "I ha' more descendants than most such," saith I.

"Yea," quoth she, "verily," quoth she; "and all nine o' th' lads be jacks," saith she, "and th' wench as very a pudding as e'er fell to pieces for want o' being held together," saith she. "Out on ye both!

I'm done with ye!"

"For that, G.o.d be praised!" saith I, and left ere she could answer.

But one day as I sate i' th' kitchen, a-cosseting o' my lame arm as though 't had been a babe, I hear a sound o' wheels and a clatter o'

horses' hoofs; and, lo! there be a chariot pulled up afore the door, with four gray horses a-making play with their trappings, and a coachman, all wig and gilding, a-sitting on th' box. And ere a could move, out steps a fine dame, with her hair all in hillocks, as 'twere, and a paling o' lace round about her head, like as 't had been a flower-garden, and a farthingale to 'a' covered th' big malt-pot with as little to-do as a hen covers an egg. And up comes she to th' door, and her tire-woman a-holding of her robes, and two footmen going before, and in she comes--like as though Riches and Death had a' th' same right to enter a poor man's house without knocking. And saith she to me, saith she, a-filling up o' the room with her finery, like a cuckoo ruffling out its feathers in another bird's nest, saith she,

"Be this th' cottage o' Humfrey Lemon th' farrier?" saith she.

"It be so; and I be he," saith I.

"And be thou th' father o' th' wench they call th' Farrier La.s.s o'

Piping Pebworth?" saith she.

"I be, an' proud o't," say I, a-beginning to think that she might 'a'

knocked at th' door, for all her greatness.

"Where's th' la.s.s?" saith she, as she might 'a' said "Where's my glove?"

Then saith I, "Madam," saith I, "most like she's gone about her business," saith I.

"My good man," saith she, after a fashion that did cause me to feel aught but good--"my good man," saith she, "dost thou know to whom thou speakest?"

"Verily," saith I, "thou art ahead o' me there, madam."

"Boor," saith she, "I am the Lady o' Balfour Hall."

"An' so could my la.s.s 'a' been, had she willed it," saith I; but ere I could further forget myself, in comes Keren by another door, and she saith,

"Father, do thou go out, and leave me to speak with this lady." Then to th' dame she saith, "Your ladyship," saith she, "I am Keren Lemon, that be called th' Farrier La.s.s. What wouldst thou with me?"

Then I got me out o' th' room, but not out o' hearing distance; and this is what followed:

"I have heard," saith th' dame, "these reports concerning my son Sir Dagonet and thee, and, to my sorrow, I find upon inquiry," saith she, "that they be true. Moreover, though it doth shame me to the dust to confess it, I have had an interview with my son Sir Dagonet," so saith she--every word o't as I tell thee--"and he is determined in his purpose o' ruining his life and th' happiness o' his mother. Therefore I have come to thee, to ask that thou persistest in the course which thou hast begun," saith she. "And here," saith she, "is gold to hold thy tongue concerning my visit unto thee." And therewith she did count down ten broad gold pieces upon th' kitchen table. "I must also ask thee,"

then continued she, ere my la.s.s could answer her, "to allow me to remain under thy roof until my carriage be returned from th' other end o' the village, where it hath been sent with my tire-woman to purchase some ribbon to tie my parrot to 's perch."

Never a word saith my la.s.s, but she goes to th' door and opens it, and lifting up her voice, she halloos to a little ragged urchin who is at some spot on th' other side o' th' street; and he being come as fast as his little shanks would bring him, she bids him enter, and taking him up in her arms, she lifts him up so that a can reach th' gold on th'

table, and saith she,

"Thou'rt not o'er-clean to touch, my good little mouse," saith she, "but thou'rt cleaner than that stuff thou seest. There, lad, that's for thee, if an thou'lt run to th' other end o' th' village and bid them return at once with my lady Balfour's carriage," so saith she. Then, th' lad having stuffed all 's doublet with th' gold, she sets him on 's feet, and off a scuttles on th' best-paid errand e'er chanced since th' world began. And my la.s.s, having courtesied to the thunder-stricken dame, gets her outside (where I go nigh to smothering her with kisses), and leaves her ladyship in possession o' th' kitchen.

Well, comrade, right sure am I that thou dost think that was the end on 't. Not a bit. Sir Dagonet did himself come to th' cottage th' very next day to see th' la.s.s, and they had many words together, and at last he did accuse her o' false pride and proud humility. And saith he,

"Wouldst thou make misery for the man who loves thee best of all the world, merely to satisfy a notion o' thine own? Greatness and goodness,"

saith he, "dwell in the heads and hearts o' mankind, not in their birth or purses. I do ask thee, with all respect, to be my wife, and I am prepared to face th' anger o' my mother and o' th' Queen. Ay," saith he, his face gone red as a girl's, and comes nigh to her--"ay, maiden,"

saith he, "I am even ready to seek th' new country with thee as my wife, and to leave t.i.tle and lands and Queen and mother behind me."

Then saith she--and I had not seen tears in her eyes for many a day--

"My lord," saith she, "well and n.o.bly hast thou spoken, and with all my soul do I honor thee for it, and I thank thee with all my heart and soul. But, my lord, even were there not thy rank and position atween us, there is atween us," saith she, "which would hold us as far apart as the sea doth hold this England which we live in and th' new country o'

which thou didst speak. For," saith she--and she speaks in a steady voice, howbeit 'tis very low, and she keeps her sun-like eyes on his--"for, my lord," saith she, "all the love that was mine to give hath been another man's these many years."

Then saith he never another word, but bends his knee and kisses her long brown hand as though 't had been th' Queen's; and he gets him from th'

cottage.

Now, two more years were sped since that Ruth had left us, and sometimes would we hear through friends o' th' little lad and 's mother and father, and always was Ruth a-sending of pretty messages to Keren--her love, and her thanks, and how happy she was, and th' boy so like his father--and more than I remember.

A full year had th' la.s.s been at work in my shop, and my arm no more fit to hammer than afore. So I looks about to get a lad to help her in her work, seeing as 'twere too much for one wench. And, Lord! th'

trouble I had! Ten lads did I try, one right after th' other; and one would be saucy, and another dull, and another would take 't into his pumpkin head to fall in love wi' th' la.s.s; and all o' 'em lazy. But, G.o.d-a-mercy! how's a man to tell a lazy lad till he ha' tried him?--unless it be old b.u.t.ter. Ha! ha! I ha' just minded me o' th' way he used to treat th' lads that came to Amhurste to hire for under-gardeners. He would stand with 's owlish old visage a-set on 's hoe-handle, for all th' world like a fantastic head carved out o' a turnip and set on a stick, and a would let th' lad go on with 's story o' how Dame This commended him for that, and o' how Dame That commended him for this, and o' how a had worked under my lord So-and-So's head-gardener and in my lady So-and-So's own hot-houses; and when a had got through, never a word would old b.u.t.ter say, but a would just step round behind th' lad, as solemn as a gravedigger on a cold day, and a would lift up th' tail o' 's doublet and look at th' seat o' 's breeches. And if they were fairly worn a would hire th' lad; but if an they were much worn a would say, "No work dost thou get from me, my lad," would a say, "thou sittest down too often to work for Anthony b.u.t.ter"--so would a say--every word o't just as I ha' told thee. Ha! ha!

And all the time as sober as a coroner inspecting a corse. Ha! ha! ha!

Methinks I can see him now--th' old zany.

Well, well, a was a good man, was Anthony b.u.t.ter; and if a was a bit puffed up with 's own importance, a's charity ne'er got in a like condition that it did not bring forth some kind act.

Well, th' months swung round, and 'twas nigh to Martlemas in that same year, and one day as I sat i' th' forge door, a-swearing roundly to myself concerning my lame arm, and how that 'twould not mend, up comes galloping a man, like one distraught, and a child on th' saddle afore him, and a flings himself down with th' child in 's arms (making no shift whate'er to hold th' horse, which gallops on with th' reins swinging), and a cries out, a-setting of th' child on my knee--a cries out,

"For G.o.d's sake, help me! My child hath been bit by a mad dog! Help me in some way, for th' love of G.o.d!"

And I saw that 'twas Robert Hacket that crouched and quivered at my knee like a hurt hound, and th' child as like to him as one leaf on a tree is to th' other. But ere I could do or say aught, comes that la.s.s o' mine, and ups with th' babe in her arms, and he roaring as l.u.s.tily as any bull-calf with th' wound in 's little brown arm, and she sees where the beast hath bitten him. Then sets she him down again on my lap, and runs and fetches a bar o' iron and heats it i' th' forge till 'tis white-hot, and all th' time th' poor father a-sobbing, and kissing of th' babe, and calling on me to help him, like as though I were G.o.d Almighty. And while he was so doing, and the babe like to burst with weeping, and I gone mad with not knowing what to be at, comes that wench, comrade, and jerks up th' babe, and sets th' white-hot metal in 's soft flesh.

Ay, comrade, a did, and a held it there till where th' dog's fangs had been was burned as black as th' anvil. And then, when 'tis done, and th'

babe again upon 's feet, and we two for praising and blessing o' her, down drops she all in a heap on th' floor atween us, like a hawk that hath been smitten in mid-heaven. Then 'twas, comrade, that th' babe was left to endure his pain as best he might; never thought more did 's father give him that day; but he runs and lifts th' la.s.s in 's strong arms, and bears her out into th' fresh air, and he calls her his "dear," and his "own," and "his life," and his "Keren," till, had 't not been for my la.s.s's coming back to life, I would 'a' struck him on th'

mouth for a-speaking so unto her, and he th' husband o' another woman.