LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2310, 30 August 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

THE GREWELTHORPE FEUD : A STORY OB' HATE AND LOVE.

i ( Continued .) But fate had already begun to prepare the end of the feud in a way quite her own, by means whioh showed she understood the lives and tempers of men rather better than the person. That evening George Grewelthorpe, the town brother, eat in the dusky shadows of the little bar parlor with Cooker. , _ . , , •I have, Cocker; you know I have, ho was saying in a voice of remonstrance, • tried to let it drop. But he wean’t. An see what a fool he do make mo. But 111 be even with him now,’ ‘ Em—m,’ murmured Cocker ; ' but it wur thysen, George, played fool first, that I knaw. Now, look ve here; canstna get at him thro’ his lass, Kitty ? Thoo wert aye foud o’ her mother, wertna ? * Now. Cocker, you knaw bettor than to tell me to try thro’ 't lass. You knaw he war aye jealous o’ me.’ • Rut It werena aboot that ye fell out — eh?’ George looked full at him. 1 Thoo’rt tryiu’ to draw me, Cooker.’ After a pause —‘ If he’d just drop it; but he wean’t. An’ I bain’t goin’ beggin’ and holdin’ oit my hand to him—after he make dam fool of me all about!’ He was silent. Thera was a pause, during whioh Cooker felt about on the table, and got up and felt on the mantel shelf for a match. Having found one;, he returned to his seat He scratched the light and held it up for a moment to peer under at his companion, who sat stern and angry, with his eyes averted, nervously plucking at his wlrakers. Cocker lit his pipe and continued—‘ John, thoo see, be gey different fraa thoo in sown ways. When thoo tak’ to thinkin’ ou’t, it mak’s thoo look ill and sort o’ d—d drunk like. But he—he alius look as if ’twere his meat and drink, and as if he throve on’t uncommon week Weel, thoo see, he has nou’t else to think on, scarce, as thoo has; so oot in field, or in mill wl hoppers clatterin’ and dust flying.he. nurse it and nurse It, and keep thought o’t fair coddled aboot’s heart. But, for a’, he can do nou’t wi’ ’t unless thoo cross and oonter him.’

* He makes me; and so does she—Aunt Kilty, I mean. The last thins she do in her will was to try and make fool of me Bub she didn’t knaw.how she gave me such fine chance to pay off scares wi’, John !’ * Humph 1 What is this ? I ask John, and he on’y say, ‘ Mousetraps, old C’ocker.’ Maybe, thoo’ll say, ‘Toasted cheese, old Cocker.’ ‘Oh, it dean’t matter. Everybody’.! knaw very scon ; for it’ll be up in Court and in newspapers ; an’ I think I’ll get it She put into her will,, just for flout at me, that John was to ha’ a’ proputty in Fulford pariah, and that I was to ha’ a’ in Thexton -parish. Now thoo kaaws it wur a joke that aunt Kitty had, just enough land in Thexton —a bit corner at bottom o’ field—as much as would mak’ a grave.’ ‘ He ! he !’ Cooker could mot help laughing. * Weel, weel, I’ll laugh too by’m-bye. Now ye think. I goes to lawyer Norton to arr.nge ower my little bit land ’ ‘He, he!’—‘when what do wo find ? The real old original boundary o’ parish comet up by .my drain, which w.as onst bit brook, and goes thro’ end o’ t’ house So alUohn has be three-quarters o’ house an’ a bit o’ back yard!!’ * Whew ! Thoo say so !’ Some months after the case came on in a London court. Of course all Fulford and the neighborhood were agog (with speculation as to the result and the cost of the trial ; and there ware m good many of the frivolous sort who had laid wagers on the event. I*o, when one wintry afternoon old Cocker war seen bare-headed and bespectacled, trailing an open newspaper, and shnffiing across the street to the house of his f.iend the officers of Excise, the word fl:w round, and before he had climbed the bank he was pounced upon by the grocer and the baker, followed by Mi a Hicks, the milliner (commonly reputed to have her maiden eye on one of the brothers), who in her haste had forgotten to put off her spectacles and to put her cap straight. Then up came the butcher, and oat came the exciseman, and then another and another, each one quicker and more eager than the last, till quite a crowd had gathered. But, bless yon! no one need have hurried, dor every one ‘knew’ the case would have gone so. How could it help it;-? The will ran so and so, and the parish boundary ran so.; —at was clear. A man with half an eye, old Cocker said, could see that, mnch more than a judge and jury. ‘Ah’ they two born idiots gone and may hap spent hundreds o’ pounds on settlin’ what might ha’ been settled ower a twopenny pot o’ ale !’ ‘ An’ it a’ goes out o’ f’ town'!’ exc'aimed the grocer, ‘ Except what the witnesses get,’ said the exciseman. It proved to be a terrible blow to John Orewelthorf e, the miller. Ho was for the first time ‘done cut’ by his b.oilier; he was mulcted in heavy costs, and he was left in possession of the moat ridiculous fragment of property man ever inherited—-three-quarters of a house, and a small triangular section of backyard. If all tho property had been won from him —that ho oonld have endured, the loss would have been serious, but people wou'd have regarded it seriously. As it was he felt that everyone laughed at him, and that everyone had a right to laugh. His brother sent his lawyer with a kindly-meant error to surrender tho right the law allowed him to a part of the house, but the lawyer came back with a bouncing flea in bis ear. ‘ Noo,’ said the miller, ‘ja-t tell Gearge, you, If he reed o vbody here wi’oa’t, or come himsen, I’ll stick him head first 1’ that sweet duck-dabble 1 Dom his favors'! Dost knaw he began wi’ doin’ me a favor ! Dom ! N l6 roair !—Law gi’es him quarter o’ hooso., an’ quarter o’ hooae he’ll ha’e!— Noo, sir, thoo can wag.’ The miller’s answer of course soon got noised abroa * ; and it became a question of great interest at gossiping corners, and In th the tap-room and bar of th® old inn, how tho division of the house was to be effected, ‘ Bun up a petition wall,’ said old Cocker; ■* that’s w'a they’ll do.’ ‘ Falx !’ cried Dr. Mahoney, ‘ I’d manage •aiaier nor that. Let it out in rooms to -tenants, and divide the riots.’ ‘ Ah, well,' said the exciseman, ' they ■ might just as easy let it to one tenant and . divide tho one rent. ’ ‘Yes, of course, ’ said the Irishman, ‘of course. It comes to the same.’ But one day Fulford became aware of £he curious fact that scaffolding was being put up .cbout one end of tho house—“ the George end,” as it was called. On closer inspection it was observed that a line of whitewash had been drawn obliquely across the roof and .'straight down the wall. The very curious went to question the workmen, and got for answer that it ‘ warn’t to be told ; but (with a sly twinkle) this bit bo cornin’, down. ’ People watched the work cf demolition, how carefully it was conducted— tho slates -taken from tho roof whole, and tV e bricks cleared of mortar and piled. Th oy looked at -each other and laughed; no one had expected such a solution of tho difficulty aa this. ‘ Tell ye what,' said old Cocker in confidence to the exciseman, ‘that John be om’d diver, malicious divll!’ It may be ' guessed that George was enraged at getting his quarter of the house handed over to him la this ueele-a broken shape. Eat ho said nothing—at least not in public, and at home he had none but a deaf old housekeeper to talk tc. Perhaps he was the more inclined to be client, because he had already prepared a scfccucoof retaliation, which threatened to be so serious in its consequences to his brother that he hesitated to carry it into execution, till ho was stung to it by this new instance of implacable brotherly malice. On one piece ground which his aunt Kitty had by will unwittingly assigned to him, and which had for some years tried, with little success, to produce cabbages, he determined to bulid a steam mill. He knew hie purpose wgj fratricidal, a r d he feared others would see it; was, [and wonld say ‘Shame!’ upon him. : So he tried to cover It, for decency’s sake, with talk about the necessity in those pashing tines* when business had so much increased, of a town like .Fulford Jbegtirring ’ -*° wpply »U the wants,pf the neighborhood ; it was notorious’that the mi ls of Harford did much of the .grinding of the Fulford districtwhy shodld this be ? By S lucky chance he possessed a piooc of worthless ground ; he would risk the building of

a mill for the good of the community. But George need not have excused his action bo elaborately. He took very few in by bin talk; and ho might have known that friends and neighbors do not vere severely condemn a qnedtionablo set when they expect to profi by It. ( To he continued.)