LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume I, Issue 18, 20 June 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

TOM TUEHERN'S TANDEM. Conchided. An opposite simile; for before they had gone three miles, the evening changed to one of those thick-clouded, thunderous nights, which sometimes precede a day of heavy rain ; and unfortunately Tom, who seldom drove in the evenings, and had reckoned on being at his journey's end by that time, had brought no lamps. However, they went on as well as they could, by the dying twilight and the occasional gleams of the peeping moon, till they came to a cioss-road. Here Tom and the groom had a short argument as to the way, which ended in the former taking half-a-crown from his pocket, and deciding between their opinions by the hand of Fate. They obeyed the oracle, and turned to the right; and when the next gleam of moonlight shone they found they were in a byroad totally unknown to them and halfflooded . Here the groom gets out to lead mare, who is a little fractious at the splashing water. In another minute Tom feels his feet suddenly invaded by a cold fluid, the man ejaculates an oath which ends in a splashing gurgle, and the mare and Timothy are struggling for bare life in the rushing waters of the little Trym. To do the mare justice, she behaved splendidly after the first plunge, and although the gig was never meant for aquatic excursions, the stream, which though a strong current, was nowhere up to tbehorcs' necks, was crossed in safety. It was not until the pair stood dripping and blowing on the opposite side that Tom thought of the groom when the following dialogue ensued : • Sa-a-a-m !' (very loud). 'Hollo-o-o ! (distant and dismal). ' Where are you ?' ' On an island, sir, half-drownded !' ' Why don't you come on ?' 4 'Cause I can't swim, sir.' 1 Well, I'll go on, and send back to you.' It was a dismal drive that Tom had after that. He knew enough of the country to be able to tell in which direction to steer ; but it was long before he found his way to a bridge, aud driving a tandem along a strange road on a dark night is nob a pleasant task, especially when one of your horses is almost tired out and the other a hot animal that will not staud the whip. If he touched Timothy to keep him awake the mare bounded forward at the sound of the lash, and he was in constant fear of coming against some obstacle in the obscurity. -. At last he heard a sheep bell, and a little further on he fancied he could discern trees aud a gate. Cautiously descending, after knottting the reins to the back of the seat, and holding the mare's head with one hand, he felt his way to the latch of the gate. To place it wide open, still holding the mare's head, was a task of some difficulty, aud while so engaged the night cleared for a moment, aud he could see he was on a very smooth and gravelly road between an avenue of trees.

Keeping in the middle of this, he advanced until he struck his hat against a wooden surface, which ho perceived to be a large door. Tom was overjoyed at having discovered a habitation at last, and began to thunder •• ih hand and foot at the portal. No ruih-.v >. He commenced another battery that migiii have waked the Seven' Sleepers. Tom w.-n puzzled, Had he fallen on a sort of descried village? After a last attempt, which was as unsuccessful as the former, ho sulkily mounted his dog-cart, and prepared to ' try back.' Now the mare like all her sex, was very much irritated when disappointed, and. having no doubt made up her mind to a good supper and bed after her labours, showed a determination not to start again. Tom, who was iu no humor for nonsense, brought the whip at first lightly, then severely across her loins. The mare bolted forward indignantly into a gallop, and before Tom could get her in hand he felt the off-wheel catch in something stationary, with a shock that tossed him out as neatly as a shuttlecock flies from a lively battledore. It was sometime before he could collect his faculties sufficiently to discover that he had sprained his left ankle slightly, besides his various contusions. He rose and tried to limp away, but found he had fallen into an oblong space, enclosed by what he made out by feeling with his hands to be a tall iron railing, so that like the worthy nephew of Gil Perez he was caught like a rat in a trap. After shouting until he was hoarse without effect, he determined to make the best of his position till morning, and before wrapping himself in the rugs which fortunately had been about his person when he fell, he felt in his coat pocket for his sherry flask, and drank as th"se only can drink who are nearly exhausted by work and worry. Then, seated on the smooth flooring of his singular prison, he patiently waited till morning should bring him some relief. The sherry was good; the night was warm and close; and despite the pain of his ankle and the hardness of his couch he fell in a quarter of an hour into a deep slumber. It was rather a surprise for the parishioners, when they assembled in the churchyard before service on the following morning, to find two horses, with every appearance of having freed themselves by force from the ruius of a dismantled dog-cart, and the pastor who was to have appealed to their charitable feelings that morning, peacefully slumbering, with an empty flask by his side, on the headstone which marked the spot ' Sacred to the memory of Theodosia Huntingdon, aged 62 years.' Tom has not again tried an ecclesiastical tandem ; and if you ask him why he does not take an excursion with a leader now, he will most likely reply in the words of the Frenchman when they would have tempted him to a fox-hunt, ' J'y ai ete.' RIGHTED AT LAST. Chapter I. THE LOCUM TBNENS. One lovely summer night, a few years ago, an old-fashioned little vehicle was being dragged up a steep ascent among the Cotswold Hills, by a sturdy little pony, who stopped every now and then of his own accord, as though perfectly well aware of how many ' rises aud dips' lay before him, and of the consequent necessity of not losing his wind by over-exertion at this stage or his journey. The two men who were walking on either side of the four-wheeler occupied these moments of rest, • the one in cheering aud patting the pony, the other in gazing round upon what was to him altogether an unfamiliar scene. Long sloping meadows, on one side, parted from each other by low stone walls, a few cottages —stone too, even the roofs—dotted here and there, a long way off a tall cathedral spire, and over all the rapidly gathering gray shadows of coming night; and on the other side, high jagged yellow cliffs, crowned by tier after tier of mighty trees, whose topmost boughs caught the last golden light of the setting sun beyond, whose friendly branches sheltered myriads of song birds. ' What a glorious view we shall get yonder !' cried the stranger, pointing to a turn on the hillside, to be reached after another stiff ascent of half a mile. 'Ay, sir,' responded the man, 'they do say as the look-out there is as good as any in the country—or out of it either, I should think. Master, he says to me when I were a-drivin' him down here the last time the other day, " Jim," says he, " it's my belief I sha'n't see nothin' finer in the way of views in all my travels than this here Cat'sback, and that there Nest by the beck ;" and he's a travelled man, is master, and knows what he's a-sayin' of too.' These last words were flung out a little defiantly, as if to warn the young man who was coming as loewni tenons to Maybeck, that though for a twelvemonth or so he might be invested with the invalid rector's power, and preach in his pulpit, and live in his house, and look after his flock, still he had better take care and not let his pride at such a position run away with him, and especially he had better not set up an opinion in opposition to ' master's.' But Godfrey Bree was noways inclined to gainsay his conductor's hearty praise ; instead of so doing, he so unaffectedly showed a delight in the fair views that lay round about them at every turn, that by the time Maybeck rectory was reached, he had won golden opinions of ' Jim,' who informed his wife that night over their supper, ' that whatsoever the new man might be, parish or chapel disposed, he knowed a nice sight when he see it, and that spoke in his favour !' A quiet lonely meal, some few minutes' study of the room where it was served, an introduction to and commencement of a warm friendship with ITlops, the old rector's spaniel, and then the curate strolled out into the garden possessed with the half-satisfied, half-restless feelings that attend so many changes of men's lives. This was his first parochial charge,—the eight years of his life since he had left college having been passed in the very, different work of teaching in a grammar-school,—and how different it all seemed ! There, in the busy town of many thousands, with a throng of lads about him from morning till night, plenty of people glad to see him when he could steal an hour from his work, he had hardly known what it was to have a minute to himself; the noise of streets and many voices was about him at all hours ; every moment of every day found him with plenty to do. Here, as yet, he knew no one ;he had come to this little quiet spot maiuly for the sake of rest from overwork— and rest, even to stagnation, he seemed likely to get. He knew no one ; indeed, according to Jim's account, there were

J not many folks to know ; a poor population of under a hundred to attend to, three ' gentlefolks' houses' to call at—inhabited by a reii red officer of the army, the squire of the ' oe, and a certain Mr Darlington, of w! i'i obody knew much ; these constituted liis i-ii. inh, and constituted for him something very like solitude. So nt least Godfrey Brcn thought that first night, and wondered how he should tide over his twelvemonth's charge, how he should bear the monotony of life in this out-of-the-world hamlet. All alone: the stillness was oppressive, and irritated him into action of some sort ; he opened the gate, and set off walking briskly down the hill, intending by the clear light of the midsummer moon to explore a mile or two of country before he went to rest His rapid steps were stayed, as he was going swiftly round a broken bit of road, by the shrill voice of a woman calling after him : 'Be your our minister sir !' Then mind where you're goin' of. That path'll take you right down to the quarry, and may-be you'll get a fall before you kuow where you are. I ask your pardon for stoppin' you, but: not knowin' your ways you'd best to go very careful.' He thanked the woman and 'went careful,' to where the path wound among rough stones and thick-growing brambles by the very edge of a large stone quarry ; so steep and jagged that he scarcely cared to look down twice, and very sensibly resolved to retrace his steps, and postpone farther wanderings till daylight. Ou his way back he saw a pretty picture, aud under the shadow of a sweet-scented lime stayed some moments gazing at it. A little back from the road, parted from it by a low hedge, stood one of the 'gentlefolks' houses,' a long window waa wide open, a lamp lighted within, a background of many flowers, and a girl with yellow hair, seated in the full light, resting her face upon her hand as she read aloud to some hearer unseen. The curate was near enough to catch the sound of a sweet clear voice, and loitered with a passing wish for a full sight of the fair face —may his loneliness excuse his intrusive glances ! —but that moment up rushed Flops, hot from the illegal pursuit of a rabbit, and with a joyful bark the illmannered dog rushed straight in at the open window and made herself very much at home by jumping with her dew-damped paws on the reader's light summer dress. Scarcely knowing whether to retreat or advance, he hesitated a moment, and then had no choice but to go forward ; for the girl came out upon the lawn, and catching sight of iris figure beneath the limes, cried out: ' O James, here is this dog of yours again ! Please take her home, and keep her safe. I like to keep her ; but papa— I—l beg yout pardon,' as the curate drew near ; I thought I was speaking to the servant from the rectory.' In great confusion and awkwardness, Godfrey Bree made his apologies and explained who he was, mentally chafing at the accident which brought him forward in such a malapropos manner. But the look he ventured at the young lady nearly repaid him for all his annoyance. The face was worthy of the voice—sweet and grave and womanly beyond even his ideal; and her manner, gentle and self-possessed, well matched her face. *■- He could have gone ;on explaining and apologising for an hour, but a Bharp voice from the house called ' Emily 1' and handing the intruding Flops over to the curate's keeping, the girl hurried back to her father, and the young man retraced his steps to the rectory. On the whole, it seemed to him, however, that Maybeck was a far more habitable place than he had thought it to be an hour ago. To he continued.