"And so you have disputes and trials in this neighbourhood, have you? I thought you had so many good folks in Kingsly, that disputes would hardly have ventured within its limits," said young Fairborne, smiling. "O, but you are mistaken; we are all the descendants of Adam, in Kingsly. I can tell you we have some spirity, and I am sorry to say, insubordinate people here. I have done my best, by the blessing of God, by public speaking and private conversation, to bring them into more orderly habits. Well, you will excuse me, business must be attended to. My daughter will play you the new tune she has just got-and there is my library. And when you are tired of both, you can take a turn into the garden ;" and so he bade him good morning. A word or two may here be necessary about Miss Greasy. She was not only an only daughter, but an only child; born soon after his marriage; indeed, rather sooner, according to the opinion of the knowing ones in such matters, than comports with maidenly propriety. The mother never recovered her health and strength after her birth; but, gradually declining, she died in little more than two years from her confinement. Mr. Greasy had made no after attempts at marriage. It is asserted with confidence, by persons most competent to judge, that the expense of a married life is the decisive reason why he has remained a widower. The doctor's bill for his wife's afflic tion has been the subject of many laments and denunciations. And though nearly thirty years are past, whenever medical expenses are mentioned, it is a wonder, if there be opportunity, if he does not denounce the extravagance of that bill. Miss Greasy was a little over thirty; tall and fairly proportioned in figure. In that respect she resembled her father. But she was unlike him in his half-open, and half-suspicious countenance, as well as in his soft, canting tone, and plausible manners, by which he was much distinguished. She was not handsome, nor was she ugly. Just such a mediocre sort of person as would pass along without notice from those who might be in search of perfect beauty. Her education had chiefly been under her father's direction; and she bad not mixed up much in company. She was rather distant in her carriage, and somewhat inclined to taciturnity. She played well on the piano, and could sing a little; but she was not at all forward to risk her musical reputation on her vocal capabilities. She played, and also sung, the tune referred to by the father, in which Mr. Fairborne joined. He had a good voice, and considerable skill in the science for his years, and he was ardently fond of good singing, especially by females. Other tunes were gone through -some new to him and attractive. Conversation about music, by degrees, took the place of singing it. When Fairborne inquired into the character of the singing in Kingsly, the report was but so and so. He said he had understood that there was very superior singing in some of the chapels, and he thought it was the one which she attended. She made some slight, yet tardy, admissions, that there was some pretty good female singing there. He intimated that he thought he should go the Sunday following and judge for himself. A lady calling in to speak to Miss Greasy, checked the conversation. Mr. Fairborne took occasion to say, that he would take a stroll through the town, and by that time Mr. Greasy would no doubt have returned. CHAPTER IV. OLD BETTY. "JUST knows, and knows no more, her Bible true, Cowper. It is surprising how incidents and even expressions, apparently very insignificant at the time, arrest the attention and cling to the memory so fast, that all the flow and chafings of after life are not able to remove them. No doubt there is as much congeniality between the mind and what it receives, as between the prepared soil and the seed which is cast upon it. There are times when the same things might be heard and seen with as much unimpressiveness and lack of results, as when the sterile, uncultivated ground receives the precious seed. All this justifies the teaching of the wise man, that there is 66 a time for all things." "A time to sow and a time to reap-a time to speak, and a time to be silent." And another matter is of equal importance, that we should not allow our limited knowledge to sav -amid our various efforts to do good-whether this or that shall prosper; or shall be both alike good. Such susceptibility of remembrance is acknowledged to be stronger and more manifest in in youth than in age, when life is in its spring time, fresh and absorbing, and the mind, unencumbered, opens its doors to receive stores from every quarter. This process of mind is illustrated in the instance of young Fairborne. In his youthful visits to Kingsly, he had more or less mixed up with its inhabitants. But he was observant, and noticed matters that other youths would pass over. At one of these times, when staying with Mr. Chester, just after his father's death, he went with that gentleman into Kingsly, who wanted to give instructions, to a man that was doing some sawing on his land. And the wife of the labourer said some such plain, quaint, and odd things, and with so much kindness of word, look, and manner, that the youth never forget them. He often thought he should like to see and hear the old woman again. And now he had a leisure hour, and was unfettered by a second person, he resolved to take a free walk and contrive, if possible, to get within speech of her again. He had some notion of the locality, though he did not know exactly the spot. As he was drawing near to what he thought was her dwelling, he came up to two boys playing at marbles. After watching them play a minute or two, he said, "Boys, can you tell me who lives at that little house with the yew-tree growing before the door ?" "Yes, Sir," said one of the boys. "Old Simon lives there, what goes a thatching, and gardening, and diking." 66 Does any body live with him ?” "A, yes," said both of them together, and one continued, "Old Betty,-old Betty Speakout is her name. Some call her, Talking Betty." And the other boy desirous of giving all information, said, "They often call her, 'praying Betty,' she is my grandmother, Sir." "Indeed! and what do you think of your grandmother?" The boys looked silently at each other, and smiled. Perceiving their slight embarrasment, he said, "I hope you love your grandmother?" "O, yes, I like her very well sometimes," said he that was her grandson. "And when don't you like her ?" "I don't like to go near her, when I've been in mischief, she does talk to me so about it." Then the other boy looked up with some surprise, and said, "Why don't you know old Betty, Sir? Why everybody in Kingsly knows old Betty." After a few more familiar words with the boys, with which they were pleased, Mr. Fairborne left them, and made directly for the humble dwelling which he soon reached.. The door being shut, he gave a gentle rap, which was quickly answered by old Betty herself. She at once knew him, and had as lively an impression of his person as he had of her conversation. She made a slight curtsey, and welcomed him in, with all the blunt plainness and kindness of heart for which she was so remarkable. She was a little flurried by his unexpected appearance; for his name had already gathered a reputa tion in the village. She reached him a chair, and began to put the others in their places, and pick up a loose garment or two, that lay disorderly on the couch, saying,— "Bless me, there is no keeping things straight. Those children will come in, and they turn things up-side down, and down-side upward. Do sit down, Sir, on such seats as there is. You see, Sir, one can't always be tidy, do as one will." And so she was going on, when the young man, impressed with her desire to make him comfortable, said, "Don't put yourself about, I am not going to stay at all, thank you. I remember coming here once with Mr. Chester, who, I believe, wanted your husband to do him some work; and as I was in Kingsly, and at leisure, I thought I would call, and ask your husband how he is." "I am very pleased that you would bend so low, Sir, as to come into our humble dwelling, and particular as you are so kind as to ask about the health of my dear old man. Thank the Lord, Sir, he is pretty well in health for his years, for he's getting to the end pretty fast. He's stood many a winter's storm, and many a broiling summer's sun; and he's stood up, while many, as were working with him, has fallen down. Yes; the Lord has been very good to him. He's a touch of the rheumatism sometimes, which puts him about a bit; but it's better to have rheumatism in one's body than soulbut do sit down, Sir." Then she dusted the chair again; "You wouldn't like my old man's arm chair; it's rather rickety." "I would rather not. I did not intend staying when I called in," he said; but seeing the old woman's importunity, and believing it would add to her pleasure, he sat down with as little unwillingness as his refusal would imply. She was wonderfully gratified at his compliance. She evidently wanted an opportunity of talking to him out of the fulness of her heart. I never saw a But all that will be "I'm so glad, Sir, that you've called into this poor cottage to talk with a poor old woman; but I should think the Saviour often went into as poor places as this. I don't think as Lazarus and his two sisters lived in a very fine house. Oh! would't be likely, if it were the same Lazarus as lay at the rich man's gate. Likely enough he couldn't pay his rent, and sold his bits of furniture to live on; and now, that was gone. Well, he soon got into a better house; and what a thing it'ill be for all us poor folks to get into palaces, and be mistresses, nay, queens. I am ashamed to think on it. I sometime wonder how I shall go on about it. queen, or a throne, or crown, or a palace. managed; for He's made me His child, and given me a title for heaven; the tother part will be done. I should think, happen, Martha were a bit like me, troubling herself more about straightening up the house than the heart. But the Saviour didn't want so much of that, so that's a comfort to us poor folks. Aye, and bless the Lord, He's the same still. It's wonderful that the great King of heaven should come into this poor, tumble-down house; aye, but He does, Sir, and makes it glorious with His presence. Really, Sir, I'm often glad that I'm poor. If I weren't, I should be thinking myself somebody, and be wanting to live here always, and so not prepare for heaven. Ah, the ways of the Lord are wonderful." She would, no doubt, have kept going on further, letting out her gush of warm feeling, but it was interrupted by a boy bringing in a circular for sermons to be preached at the Congregational Chapels for the Sunday-schools, next Sunday. She handed it to Mr. Fairborne, saying, "I suppose there will be a collection; I'm no scholar, Sir; I never went to a Sunday-school. Do you think well of Sundayschools, Sir ?" 66 Certainly, I do. I should be a very thoughtless person, and very much wanting in respect for the welfare of young people, and for the general good of society, if I did not approve of Sundayschools. Is it the Chapel you attend? for I suppose you do attend some place of worship.' This last question caused Betty to raise her head a little higher, and gave animation to her looks and manners. Õh, dear, yes, Sir, I do, and have done for many years. Why, I should feel lost if I hadn't a place in God's house, and among His -people-I should feel as if I'd never a home. I was rarely blessed the other Sunday when our preacher was preaching from-let me see-oh, it begins, I think, This one thing have I desired of the Lord;'-I know it's about dwelling in God's house for ever. Have you heard our Mr. Expositor, Sir?" she eagerly asked. "No, I have not." "Oh, then, you should hear him; you'll get something with hearing him as you'll get no where else, according to my thinking. He seems to have all Scripture off by heart. There's a vast deal in Scripture as a poor, unlearned old woman like me, isn't likely to understand. But somehow, when he's reading them, I seem to know all about them as well as anybody. I tell you how I sometimes think about him. When it's a dark night, and there's many awkward, dangerous places in the road, he's like that body that carries a good light before you. When he preaches I seem to know everything. He doesn't make a great noise. Maybe you don't like a great noise. Mr. Swordly, our younger preacher, he has some power-they mun be stout sinners, indeed, as can stand long agin his preaching." Betty recollected herself, and added, "No, Sir, the school doesn't belong to us; I'm a Methodist, Sir." "But I hope you think charitably of other denominations." "Yes; all those as are right, and preach Christ, and make the way to heaven plain." "Well, I suppose if they be Christians, they will have Gospel fruit. Is not that right ?" "Why, yes," replied Betty. But as to fruit, I don't know what to make on it. I've been in a good many places of worship in my time, and I always go to get blest. And if I don't get some spiritual good I lose my labour. I'm thinking in some places, the fruit's not ripe; its trashy, and only disorders the stomach. Then, in other places, it seems as if it were kept up, till its dry and wizened and even rotten, like apples as comes off a one of our little trees, till it give one no nourishment. O, if anybody wants to have gospel fruit, ripe, and sweet, they must go to the Methodists. And there is plenty. You only have to shake the tree and down it comes. they are famous shakers. However, I think so. O dear, I've found it poor dry worship, in some of the other places. And "Then you go sometimes to other places of worship ?" asked Fairborne. "I go when I have a chance, especially at school sermons. They always send me a paper. But its not because 1 can give 'em much; I wish I could; but I give 'em widow's mite; and that is more than many does, I fear. There are lots of people, aye, and as professes religion, who hardly give anything either in this way or any other to the cause. Why, I always reckon up what trifle I think I should give same as I do what I shall have to pay at the shop for goods. And if man's law can't get it, God's law can. When money's shorter than usual with some folks, they directly begin to 'bridge the Lord's share. His cause may starve to death for them. His share is put on last, and taken off the first; when it ought to be the other way on. And at these charity sermons, some fine folks that |