LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2324, 15 September 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

MISS DEBORAH'S BOUND GIRL.

[BtMbs E. Burke Collins] • Huldt ! Hnldy ! Where ia the childi T But It'B easy to gueas! She's up in the attlo,, of course, soribblin' away as ti her Wei de - pended on it ! How on airth did she come by such outlandish ways, I wonder ? Mart my words, she'll come to some bad end y °And Mlbb Deborah Clark-aplnater of uncertain age-took off her spectacles, rubbed them vigorously, and replacing them on her dignified noae, picked up the .tookings which sho was darning and went to work with a will. ~ A young man seated before a commodioua escritoire in one corner of the room, busily engaged in writing, glanced up with a look of interest. , , , . •Why do yon prediot such a fata tor Miss Huldah —if it's a fair question— Miss Clark ?' ho queried, with a quizzical -3rnilo. • Wal, what good ever comes of a woman apendin' all her precious time soribblin' and tiyin* to make believe she s an authoress ? 'Toin't one woman in a thousand that ever makes any money at it!' •But Miss Huldah might prove to be one of those fortunate ones 1' returned the gen'tloman. . . , ' I don't care ! I don't believe it! And besides, she's bound out to me to do my housework till she's twenty one—that s two years off. yet—and I don't want my time wasted <in no suoh unprofitable way I tell you, Mr Neville, tha.t girl's a trial to ene—an awful trial !l "Indeed P' •Bho is that! And I'm goin' to put utop to it, too!' Miss Deborah arose, her countenance Blowing with wrath, and opening a door which commanded a view of a bare, narrow hallway, from whence a pair of steep, rickety stairs—guiltless of oarpet or covering—wound upward, her voice, as sharp as vinegar, rose in righteous indignation : • Hnldy P You, Huldy, what be you doin' ?' , And a clear sweat voice from the upper regions answered : •I'm writing, Miaß Deborah. • Writin' —humph ! Cume down stairs this instant! come along, I say, and bring every Borap o' that soribblin' with you ! Silence followed. Directly a light step was heard descending the stairs slowly and reluctantly, and at laat a slender form appeared at the door. A girl of eighteen or nineteen, dark, graceful, and not devoid of beauty. Her eyes and hnir were splendid; and though her complexion was far from clear. her nose somewhat 'to heaven inclined, and her mouth a trifle too large, little Huldah Stanhope was, nevertheless, very pleasant to look upon. Mr Neville seemed to be of that opinion, for he gazed quite approvingly in her diiection. • Come right here!' snapped Miss Deborah, upheld by the consciousness of duty well performed,' and hand over every scrap you've been a-writln'. I'll teach you !' The girl's eyes flashed defiantly. •Miss Deborah,' she answered, respectfully but firmly, 'my time is yours, I will admit ; but you agreed to allow me one hour every day to myself. If I choose to .spend that hour In writing, it's no conoern of yours, or anybody's, and you have no right to demand my papers ! ' • I declare! * Misa Deborah's cap fairly stood awry with horror at little HuLdah'a declaration of independence. ' I declare ! Wal, keep your old papers ; nobody wants 'em, I'm sure ; and go and git your thimble; I've got a quilt on the frames in the spare room, and I want you to help quilt!' And with her most dignified mien, Miss Deborah aroae and flounced away to the spare room. ' Mlsa Huldah!' It was Mr Neville's voice; and Huldah turned.

'Will you allow me to examine your literary productions ?* Huldah blushed scarlet.

' Oh, they are nothing !' she faltered, ' only ntray thoughta ; aometimea I feel impelled to put them on paper ; and not even the fear of Miss Deborah's wrath can deter me !'

The girl amilsd roguishly as she spoke; and her small hand closed involuntarily over the odds and enda of paper which peeped from her apron pocket. ' I should esteem it; a favor,' continued the young man, earnestly, 'if you will permit me to examine them And it might be for your ultimate benefit, Huldah, my profession being in the literary line, you know.' Huldah knew that Mr Neville, who had long boarded at Miss Deborah's cottage, was assistant editor of a. flourishing magazine ; and the vety idea of his editorial eyes inspecting the crude productions of her untutored brain inspired her with awe. Bat at that moment Miss Deborah's shrill voice was heard vociferating : • You, Huldy ! are you comin' or not ?' Impulsively she snatched the papers from her apron pocket, a.nd tossing them on the desk before Mr Neville, beat a precipitate retreat.

Aa the door olosed behind the girlish figure, the young editor drew the papers closer to him and began a peraaal of their contenta.

Gradually his face brightened ; an expression of intense interest stole into his dark eyes ; he perused them attentively, nor laid them aside until the last page was turned.

' Upon my word !* ho exclaimed, enthudastioally, ' the child is a genius, I predict a brilliant faturei for the little bound girl.'

' Law's sakes 1' exclaimed Miss Deborah, one morning some two years later, I wonder who this writer is tha.t's makin' everybody crazy over her book ? They do say, too, that she's makin' piles o' money, but humph ! I don't put much faith in that! It ain't woman's spare to write books nohow, it's a man's business, and no good never comes o' a woman gettin' out o' her natural spere. Still, this book beats all natur' !' For once in her lire Miss Deborah was interested in a novel; aye, more, she was fascinated —carried away: The story was simple, but so pathetic and so beautifully told, that more than once the flinty-hearted spinster had caught herself Burreptitiouely wiping stray tears from her hard eyes. •Would yon like to meet her, Miss Deborah ?' inquired Mr Neville, who chanced to overhear the good lady's soliloquy. ' Would I?' Yes, indeed ; but then, o* coarse, that's out o' the question, for I suppose she's some furrin critter.' Mr Neville smiled quietly. ' I happen to know her,' he said, ' and if yon wonld really like to be presented, just come to Mrs Delong'a sociable to-morrow evening, and I will introduce you.' • Will yon now ? Wal, that's olever ! Of coarse I'll be there.'

The next night found Miss Deborah, • arrayed in all her glory,'at Mrs Belongs. The parlor was well filled and Miss Deborah soon fonnd herself in the centre of the room, where Neville was standing a slender graceful figure leaning cm his arm. 'Miss Olark, allow me to introduce the authoress.'

'Land sakea alive! Huldy—my bound girl!* ' The same," continued the gentleman, ' but no longer Huldah Stanbopa—she became my wife this morning. Congratulate ns, Misß Deborah, you always said she would come to some bad end, you know.' Mias Deborah was fairly caught. But to this day she declares her belief that Huldah never really wrote the book—or if she did Mr >'eville assisted her. ' Because,' the good lady avers, ' no woman could write like that I 'Taint In natur!' But the Good Book tells us that * a prophet ia not without honor—save in his own country.* IN A BKIGHTON TRAIN. ["London Society."] Railway travelling, with all its manifold advantages, can hardly be naid, in England at least, to promote sociability. Beyond an occasional frigid Interchange of newspapers, or an inquiry couched In more or less polite terms respecting the opening or closing of windows, people are apt to their fellow passengers in the light of unavoidable nuisances and intruders on their privacy, whose presence they are compelled to undergo, but with whom, save the purchased

privilege of occupying seats in the same carriage, they have absolutely nothing in common. It is, perhaps, owing to this prevalent idea that the majority of travellers are in the habit of assuming a stiffness ot manner and a studied Indifference of tone wholly foreign to their usual demeanour, ana even of seeking refuge in simulated drowsiness, from sheer apprehension of being betrayed into conversation with their ntigh bors. There aie, however, exceptions to every rule, and I had an opportunity of experiencing the truth of this axiom a few wsoks ago. My destination being a Btnall station on the Brighton line ignored by the express, l took my seat resignedly In a slow afternoon train, dragging its weary length from Victoria to London-euper-Mare, and requiring as much time for the single trip as under more favorable circumstances would have Burbcea for the double journey. Finding myself in the undlsturbea poasession of a smoking compartment. I lit my cigar, and was soo.ii engrossed by the laßt number of ' until we reached Croydon, where the dow of the carriage suddenly opened, and an Individual unencumbered with luggage stepped briskly in. The new comer was a litt ie man, apparently about sixty-five years of age, but hale and wiry, with bright, twinkling eyes and a singularly shrewd countenance; he was evidently disposed to be comuiunicative, for before the train had left the station, he volunteered an observation about the weather, to which I responded demon mieux. Presently, glancing at the paper I held in my hand, he abruptly asked me if I had read Mr Joseph Hatton'B history of tbat periodical in « London Sooiety,' and, without waiting for an answer, informed me that Alfred Bunn's 'Word with Punoh,' the cost of which was originally threepence, had lately been priced in a bookseller's catalogue fifteen shillings. ...».». ' Poor stuff it was,' he went on ; ' but they didn't like it at headquarters, I can tell you Did you ever know that Bunn was fond of cultivating what Keeley called the ' conundidrum?' Here is one he wrote one morning when I was sitting with him in his room at Drury Lane, ' If a mermaid's locks could speak, which of Milton's works would they name V D'ye give it up ? ' Comb-us!' Ah,'he continued, after a moment's pause, 1 many's the smart thing I have heard in my day ; but of all the ready wits I ever came aoross, not one oould hold a candle to Hook. Poor old Theodore I the last time I saw him at his place at Fulham—Bgmont Villa they called It—l was then a youngster about town, and most of his stories have j slipped my memory; but I remember one which is worth repeating. Hatchett (of the White Horse Cellar, you know) had asked him to dinner in a friendly way, and, before they Bat down, began to make excuses for the simplicity of the fare ' No apologies, my good fellow,' said Hook; 1 what can one expect from a Hatchet bnt a chop ?' • Redhill, Reigate!' shouted the porters, as my fellow-traveller concluded his anecdote, and extracting from his ooat-pocket a meerschaum of capacious dimensions, proceeded leisurely to fill it from a sealskin tobacco-pouch. ' I dareaay you think me an odd fish,' he observed, when his pipe was fairly alight, ' but yon mustn't judge by appearances. I happen to be in a talkative humor to-day ; but as a rule I am remarkably reserved, especially with strangers.' I thought of the barber In the * Arabian Nights ' and of Charles Maurice's ' Farleur eternel,' but said nothing. ' That is,' he added, correcting himself, ' when I have more than one listener. Two are company, three are none, has always been my maxim. Do you see the inn by the roadside on your left, going up the hill ? ' I saw nothing bat the approach to the tunnel, and told him so. 'Never mind,'he replied, 'it is there, or was a year or two ago. When this line was opened, I stayed there aoouple of days with an old chum of mine; and while we were sitting over our wine—deuced good wine it was too!—the conversation ohanced to turn on the theatre, a favorite subject with me. Ah,' said my friend,' I was a great playgoer when I left college, and once I was smitten and regnlarly done. Ton remember—no, I won't mention names ; but when I tell you that the lady in question was tho most fascinating creature and the sweetest balladsinger that ever trod the London boards in our time, you will guess easily enough. Well, it was what the young fellows nowadays call a decided case of spoons with me, and I couldn't rest until I bad by some meanß let her know it. I was a mere lad then, but I had an instinctive idea that it would never do to present myself emptyhanded ; bo, being in funds just then, I went to Eundell and Bridge's, the fashionable jewellers in those days, and selected, oh approval, two of the handsomest bracelets they had in their shop, which I took away with me after paying a round sum by way of deposit. Armed with these and a flaming epistle, in which my innamorata was requested to choose whichever ornament she considered most becoming to her, I posted off next morning to her residence in Belgravia, then comparatively a desert; and on my arrival delivered letter and parcel to a very smart waiting-maid, who carried them up to his mistress while I awaited the result—l need not say how impatiently—in the entrance-hall. In a few minuteshours they seemed to me—a door opened on the floor above ; I hailed the sound as a summons, and had already one foot on the staircase, when a voice, the rich contralto of whioh it was impossible to mistake, arrested my steps. I listened, and heard, in an awfully distinct tone, the following deathblow to my hopes: ' Tell the young gentleman I shall keep both, and show the young gentleman out !'

' Yes.' pursued my companion, after he had sufficiently chuckled over this reminiscence, ' she was a charming actress, and the best Lady Teazle I ever beheld. To see her and Farren together was indeed a treat. Talking of the ' cook salmon' reminds me of a starring expedition he made to Brighton many years ago; the theatre was then jointly managed by one of the innnmerable Yinings and a dentist of the name of Bew. The latter seldom interfered in the ordinary arrangements, leaving all minor details to his more experienced partner; bat on important occasions, and this was one of them, he liked to be consulted. Farren had, of course, been playing ' Seoret Service,' 'Uncle John,' and ' Nicholas Flam' 5 and had a fancy for winding up with Coddle in ' Married Life,' but doubted whether it could be done with a single rehearsal. Vining vsas of the same opinion, and suggested a repetition of the pieces already given. ' Pooh pooh 1' cried Bew ; one rehearsal will be ample ; take my advice, and have it out at once 1'

' Are yon quite sure, Mr Bow,' said Farren, in his dry way, ' that yon are not confounding a comedy with a tooth V Here the narrator paused for breath, and at the same moment our train glided slowly into the station of Three Bridges. When we were again in motion, he abruptly inquired if I remembered old Tayleure, the ex-comedian and theatrical print-seller 7 I replied in the affirmative. • A queer fellow, my dear sir, full of anecdote, and never so happy as when induced to gossip about his early days. He never entirely got over his disappointment at having failed to bit the taste of the town as a comio actor; and I recollect going into his shop opposite St. Martin's Church one afternoon, and finding him hobbling abont in a pair of list-slippers, for in his latter years he was a martyr to the gout, 'Ah, sir,' he said, alluding to his pet grievance, 'they wouldn't have me then, but they would now, I warrant yon. I'm terribly mistaken,' he went on, holding out his foot, ' if that wouldn't remind them of Zilat-on; it would, sir—not a Doubtoa't 1' •You've been at Lewes?' continued the indefatigable o'.d gentleman, wandering from one topic to another in what Mr Felham terms a very 'rudderless ' manner. 'A town to be avoided on the 5-h of November,' I answered, 'by those who object to squibs and crackers.' • Exactly. Well, a few miles from there Is a country house ; and in one of the rooms, legibly written and hanging over the fireplace, like a scriptural text, is a really sensible maxim : 1 Naething to be done in ha3te but tbo gripping o' fleas.' Not far from there used to li»e poor Tommy Patcham (Patcham wasn't his real name, but that doesn't matter), a country squire afflicted with one shoulder higher—or, if yon prefer it, more ambitious—than the other ; but as keen a sportsman as you would wish to meet with, never missing a run if he could help it, r . One day, when oat with the hounds, he

had the ill lnok to fall with b' lB horse ln*„ 0 a deep ditch fall of water, ar ,a lay ther a f or some minutes, kicking and plunging 'without being able to extricate hi' Fortunately, a good Samaritan, in th- 3 B faapa 'of a laborer, ran to the spot, and w /th Bome difficulty dragged him out ; but perceiving the excrescence, and ).i r ja.g£airag it to be the result of the accident ( '6ega.ll. twisting and turning it with all his might in order to remedy the mishap. Me xawhita. Tommy, half choked I with Luud a'xd with pain, couldn't articulate ■ sy'lhvblo ; the more he struggled, the more coxißcivutioußly did his tormentor tug at h Xm. 1 at dost, by a supreme effort, he got on £os iegs. >and, with the most frightful conto xttoQß of countenance, sputtered out, — ' B''/u «s, >yoa confounded blockhead, born I so '<* •Wo flhall soon be parting company, pursued my voluble acquaintance, carefully emptying his pipe out of the window, and restoring it to his coat-pocket. ' I leave this train at Hay ward's Heath, and take another. I presume you are going the whole way ? •Only as far as Hassock's Gate,' I said. *Ah, what the Brightonians call the « 'Aasook.' Well, theD, to give you an idea of the march of Intellect in those parts, I'll i ' tell you what a clergyman of a village not a hundred miles from there related to me some 1 ten or twelve years baok. You must know that it was his habit, after t xamlning his 1 Sunday-school pupils, to hear them repeat 1 the Belief, each boy taking a sentenoe in turn. One morning all went on smoothly as far as the words, ' communion of saints,' 1 after which there was a dead silence. •Go on,'said the pastor. ' What are you stopping fort' 1 The boys looked at each other, and said • nothing. Presently, on my informant's re- - peating the question, the little fellow who 1 stood next to the last speaker, summoning up all his courage, gave the usual pull to his r forelook, and blurted out, * Please, sir, the boy who believes In the forgiveness of sins E is sick at home with the measles 1' •Now, good afternoon, and a pleasant . journey to you, for here we are.' j With theee parting words, and a friendly i nod, he opened the carriage door and I stumped away in the direction of a train on ' the point of starting for Lewes. O. H.