Amusing Prose Chap Books Part 10

_Simon's Wife Cudgels him severely for losing his Money._

At length Simon coming home he met with his beloved wife Margery, who, seeing his dejected countenance, she began to mistrust something, and so, taking hold of his arm, she hauled him in for examination.

When Simon saw this he could not forbear weeping, and began to tell her a dismal story concerning the stocks; but she wanted the money for the eggs; but Simon, being deaf, could not hear her, which made her fall on him with such fury that he was obliged to run up stairs and jump out of the chamber window, which, when she saw, she followed him down the town, with a hundred boys and girls after them, Simon still crying out to the people, "You may see what it is to be married."

And her tone was, "You rascal; the money for my eggs," often giving him a crack on the crown.

At length it was his good hap to get away from her.

Night drawing on, and Simon not having one penny to help himself, was forced to make the best of a bad bargain, resolved for to lodge that night in a hog-stye amongst the swine.

And so the next morning, in the presence of some of his dearest friends, he begged pardon on his knees of his sweet, kind, and loving wife, Margery.

CHAPTER VI.

_Simon loses his Wife's Pail, and at the same time burns out the Bottom of her Kettle._

Margery, being reconciled again on his humble pet.i.tion, she charged him to be careful for the future that he did not offend her as he had done before, which he promised to observe. "Then, Simon," said she, "I am this day to go to a gossiping, and shall leave you at home to make a fire and hang on the kettle."

"Yes, sweet wife."

Now, Margery was no sooner gone but he made a fire and hung on the kettle. Then, taking the pail, he goes to the well to fetch some water, when there came an ox running down, and a butcher and his boy close after him, who called out to Simon to stop the ox, which he endeavoured to do, but the ox, giving them the slip, Simon ran in pursuit of him for the s.p.a.ce of three or four miles, and, having secured him, the butcher gave him many thanks for his kindness.

So Simon returned back to the well, but his pail was lost, and he made sad lamentation for it, inquiring about it, but could not hear nothing of it; and as the old proverb says, "One sorrow never comes alone," for on going in doors the fire was flaming, and the bottom of the kettle was quite burnt out.

At the sight of this he fell to wringing his hands and crying out with a lamentable tone; "None was so unfortunate as poor Simon. What shall I say to my wife when she comes? First, I have lost my pail; and, second, I have let the bottom of the kettle be burnt out. Here will be a sad reckoning for these misfortunes."

Just in the middle of these lamentations in comes Margery, who, having heard him, came armed and fitted for the fray.

"How now, sirrah," said she, "has this been the care you promised of my business?" and with that let fly an earthen pot at his head, which caused the blood to run about his ears.

This done, she took him by the collar, and cuft him about the kitchen at a most terrible rate, Simon crying for mercy, but cruel Margery still increased his misery, till the neighbours came, persuading Margery to be satisfied, "for," said they, "it was but a mischance."

"A rascal," said she, "for I can set him about nothing, but thus he serves me."

They still interceded for Simon, until at length she excused him.

CHAPTER VII.

_Simon's Wife sends him to buy Soap, but, going over a Bridge, he lets his Money fall into the River; and of a Ragman's running away with his Clothes._

Margery, calling Simon to her, said, "Will you never be careful in anything I set you about?"

"Yes, dear wife, I hope I shall."

"Why, then," said she, "take this money. I have tied it in a clout, that you may not lose it. Therefore, go you to the market, and make all the haste you can, and get me some soap."

"I will, sweet wife," quoth he, and with that he went as fast as he could.

Now, on his way he was to pa.s.s over a bridge, and, coming to the middle of it, a flight of crows flew over his head, which so frightened him that he let fall his money.

This was the beginning of a new sorrow. He stood awhile, and knew not what course to take. At length he resolved to pull off his clothes and jump into the water and search for it. Now, as he was searching for his money, an old ragman came by, and put his clothes into a bag.

Simon, seeing this, pursued him, but in vain, and was forced to return home naked, which his wife seeing fell in a most horrible sweat, and, taking the dog-whip, she so jerked poor Simon about, making him to dance the canaries for two hours, till he cried out, "Good wife, forbear!" but she cried out, "You rascal! where is my money, and your clothes?" Thus she continued until she was tired, and he heartily begged her pardon.

THE ADVENTURES

OF

BAMFYLDE MOORE CAREW,

WHO WAS FOR MORE THAN FORTY YEARS

KING OF THE BEGGARS.

CHAPTER I.

_Carew's Boyhood. And how he became a Gipsy._

Mr. Bamfylde Moore Carew was the son of a clergyman near Tiverton, in Devons.h.i.+re, and born in 1693. He was tall and majestic, his limbs strong and well-proportioned, his features regular, and his countenance open and ingenious, bearing the resemblance of a good-natured mind. At twelve years old he was put to Tiverton school, where he soon got a considerable knowledge of the Latin and Greek tongues, so as to be fitted for the University, that in due time he might be fitted for the church, for which his father designed him; but here a new exercise engaged his attention, namely, that of hunting, in which he soon made a prodigious progress. The Tiverton scholars had command of a fine cry of hounds, which gave Carew a frequent opportunity of exercising his beloved employment, and getting acquainted with John Martin, Thomas Coleman, and John Escott, young gentlemen of the best rank and fortune.

One day a farmer came to the school and complained of a deer, with a collar round its neck, that he had seen running through his grounds, and had done him much damage, desiring them to hunt it down and kill it.

They, wis.h.i.+ng for no better sport, on the next day put the old farmer's request into execution, in doing of which they did much damage to the neighbouring grounds, whose owners, together with Colonel Nutcombe, to whom the deer belonged, came and complained to the schoolmaster of the injuries they had suffered by his scholars; they were very severely reprimanded and hard threatened for the same. The resentment of the present reproof and the fear of future chastis.e.m.e.nt made them abscond from the school; and going into a brick ale-house, about half a mile from Tiverton, there they accidentally fell in company with some gipsies, who were then feasting and carousing. This company consisted of seventeen, who were met on purpose for festivity and jollity; which, by plenty of meat, fowl, flowing cups of beer, cider, etc., they seemed to enjoy to their hearts' content. In short, the freedom, mirth, and pleasure that appeared among them, invited our youngsters to enlist into their company; which, on communicating to the gipsies, they would not believe them, as thinking they jested; but on tarrying with them all night and continuing in the same mind next morning, they at length thought them serious and encouraged them; and, after going through the requisite ceremonials and administering to them the proper oath, they admitted them into their number.

The reader will, no doubt, wonder to hear of the ceremonials and oaths among gipsies and beggars, but that will cease on being informed, that these people are subject to a form of government and laws peculiar to themselves, and pay due obedience to one who is styled their king; to which honour Carew in a short time arrived, after having by many acts proved himself worthy of it. The substance of them is this--Strong love and mutual regard for each member in particular, and the whole community in general; which, being taught them in their infancy, grows up with them, prevents oppression, frauds, and over-reaching one another, which is common among other people, and tends to the very worst of evils.

This happiness and temper of mind so wrought on Carew as to occasion the strongest attachment to them for forty years, refusing very large offers that had been made to him to quit their society.

Being thus initiated into the ancient society of gipsies, who take their name from Egypt--a place well known to abound in learning, and the inhabitants of which country travel about from place to place to communicate knowledge to mankind--Carew did not long continue in it before he was consulted in important matters; particularly Madam Musgrove, of Monkton, near Taunton, hearing of his fame, sent for him to consult him in an affair of difficulty. When he was come, she informed him that she suspected a large quant.i.ty of money was buried somewhere about her house, and if he would acquaint her with the particular place, she would handsomly reward him. Carew consulted the secrets of his art on this occasion, and, after a long study, he informed the lady that under a laurel tree in the garden lay the treasure she sought for; but that she must not seek it till such a day and hour. The lady rewarded him with twenty guineas; but, whether Carew mistook his calculations or the lady mistook her lucky hour, we cannot tell, but truth obliges us to say, the lady having dug below the root of the laurel tree she could not find the treasure.

When he was further initiated, he was consulted in important matters and met with better success; generally giving satisfaction by his wise and sagacious answers. In the meantime his parents sorrowed after him, as one that was no more, having advertised him in all the public papers and sent messengers after him to almost every part of the kingdom; till about a year and a half afterwards, when Carew, hearing of their grief, and being struck with tenderness thereat, repaired to his father's house. He was so disguised they did not know him, but when they did their joy was beyond expressing, tenderly embracing him, bedewing his cheeks with tears and kisses, and all his friends and neighbours showed every demonstration of joy at his return. His parents did everything to render home agreeable to him; but the uncommon pleasure he had enjoyed in the community he had left, their simplicity, freedom, sincerity, mirth, and frequent change of habitation, and the secret presages of the honour he has since arrived at, sickened and palled all other diversions, and at last prevailed over his filial duty, for one day, without taking leave of his friends or parents, he went back to them again, where he was heartily welcomed, both to his own and their satisfaction, they being glad to regain one who was likely to become so useful a member of their community.