LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2521, 8 May 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

BBSS—A CHARACTER SKETCH. The light of early morning was just beginning to pierce the murky air which at all times hangs like a dimly transparent veil over and mound : la k Regis, as I entered that typical Blsck Country village. A long st'-sggl ng row of tumble down huts, boasting two shatter covered windows and one shattered door, constituted the chief feature of the j-lacs; the few louses In fair repair being snl oriinato. In each cf the huts aforesaid might be f itmd a little forge, or • smithy ’ fire, an anvil, a large number of small square iron bars, and hammers for shaping the same in'o nails. And in these huts work one or two young women or girls, engaged throughout the livelong day in the occupation of nail making. From early morning until late at night you can hear the oersflees tap! tap! tap I tap! of the small na l hammers wi.-lded by the muscular amazons of Black Regis. A strange sight truly. I was long of opinion that nailmaking was a species of labor confined to the male sex ; and 1 confess I would rather have remained under that delusion j for I cannot help feeling a certain repugnance

at beholding wome - a engaged in auoh occupational Black Regis ir f u jj p] aOo BO oially as well as atmospher’ o ,,jiy. There is no place of public amusr /ment or rccre ation other than the public- alu j the half levelled surfaces of r* jf U!C u , ec j oa a or i,;het or gambling ground. Rut these were sufficient for such as have _ Ro higher craving or more laudable Jon i enough for them an is in it 1’ was *■*’ a •emphatic assertion of the chief personage ’jlth s sketch—Bess 1 Boss what ? Nothing ivihe Nothing but plain, simnlo, honest Bess, She had apparently no other name. ‘And don’t want none neither 1’ was the ttiply strong negation in which she replied to the same query put to her by myself ; ‘ What’s the use o’ having more’n ono name? It don’t make you any better, nor any richer. It only takes longer to say, and ain’t noways a bit o’ use.’ ‘ But it would be rathir awkward,’ said I, ‘if everybody had only one name. Wo could not get on in the world at all, ‘ Well, p’raps. But that ain’t nothin’ to do wi’ me. There ain’t no uso as I cm a e on for such as me to have more’n one name. We ain’t known more’n two or three miles away from home; an’ nobody cares to know whether we has a name at all or not, for that matter, so long as wa pays for all as we get, an’ don’t coma no capers. Why, sir, what do It matter to you whether my name’s Bess, or Sal, or Liz, so long as you gets to know what you wants to know 1 (rom me, an’ pays nothin’ for It ?’ This was a out. The off-hand manner in which the 1 speech was delivered, and the twinkle of the | eye which accompanied the last clause of it, ' showed me that Bess was no fool, but a 1 sharp, shrewed young womin, who had fathomed the curiosity that had led me to 1 seek the otherwise unwelcome interior of her [ little hut. She had an eye to the ‘ siller’ ’ too, 1 thought; that last hint of hers telling I me plainly that she did not expect to talk to me for nothing. I took up two or three of . the rails she had forged, and telling her I would take them homo with me as a simple I of her skill, requested her to accept a trifling equivalent. ‘There, go on I Th\t was only my chaff. , I don’t mind your talking a bit; only there’s f so many fools comes gabbin’ here, and ex- ( peotin’ me to waste my time foolin’ wi’ 'em ; I didn’t think as yon was one on ’em ; but 1 thought I’d try you ; you see, you never knows what’s in the pit till you sinks the ’ shaft, and then you see as whether there’s [ anything worth working, or only rubbish.’ ‘ Well, Bess—l suppose I may call you Bass ? ’ j ‘ Why, of course, what else could you call s me, I’d like to know ? ’ ‘Of ciunte, I’d forgotten that; well, what ( was that aff.ir of Bill Thomson being saved } from drowning, that 1 heard about this j. morning ? ’ ‘ I thought as much ! I knew you’d some ’’ a flahiu’; I never see such fools as some men Q is; can’t take core o’ theirselves, and then kicks up a lot o’ bother when anybody does a bit of a thing for ’em ; Bill ought to ha’ D known better Iran to go an’ fall into the fc canal, on’ him drunk sn’ all; un’ he ought to ha’ known better than to go an’ make a lot o’ palaver an’ talk about mo pulling of him a out ; why, anybody ’nd pull a man out o’ , the water as couldn’t get out hisself ; there ’ ain’t nothin’ to make a fuss about in that; If somebody else had a heard him boiler r instead o’ me, they’d a-run an’ hauled him t out by the hair, as I did.’ f ‘But you nearly lost your own life—did you not ? ’ £ * I dunno ! P’raps I did ; I know I was „ under the water a bit ; you see, women’s . petticoats bang about their legs, an’ is a a trouble to ’em ; bat there, I never see such a fool as that Bill is, anyway; next time he , falls in, he’ll stop In for me—if there’s anyj body else about to pull him out.’ e 'ihe latter part of the speech was added e apologetically, as if she were ashamed of f having been so mean as to say she would not r help anybody in distress. , A good soul, Bess. Rough, uncultivated, 3 unrefined, but still noble in a rugged way, g and pos easing the true qualities of heroism i courage and humility. Black Regis was the better for her presence. She was iu some i degree a restraining influence for good. Her companions and associates almost unoon- .[ soiously feared her censure, and were often deterred from oommittiog unworthy actions 1 by the thought of what Bess would say. In a difficulty they ran to her. She could adviie, r and better still, assist them in their needs ;

and many an act of true charity was performed by her. None could quell a disturbance quicker than ehe. When the authority of a policeman would have been laughed at, she could command lespeot and order. Upon one occasion she caught a miner ill using his wife, and, calling the men

who stood listiesßl>|oy ‘a lot o’faint hearted fools,’ took the case in band herrelf, and gave the man a gond boating. This raised her very high in the estimation of the Black Regmtes. Nothing ao popularises a person In the eyes of the vulgar and untutored as muscular superiority—suprtmicy of brute force - From that time forth the appearance of Bess upon the scene of action was sufficient in most cases to stay the hand of the combatants. The BUI Thomson affair was

not so aimp’e as Bess tried to make it appear. She had really saved the man’s life at the risk of her own, and only succeeded in

crawling to the edge of the canal after very great difficulty, holding the senseless Bill in her powerful arms. How she came to he near him when he fell in ehe never quite clearly explained. * She was just out for an airing, that was all, when she heard him holler,’ she had said when questioned upon the subject. Bnt I am inclined to think there were other and more sufficient reasons than this,

as the sequel will perhaps show. Bill declared he owed his life to Bess ; that she was a brave lass, and he would do anything she liked for her if the would only ask him. Practical Bess, having the cause of his mishap clearly in mind, returned simply; 'Then give up drinking far three months.’ * I will; if I don’t, blow me !’ emphatically answered Bill. Those who are not acquainted with the daily life of such men os Bill in such a place as Black Kegis, will not be able, I fear, to appreciate the sacrifice he was making in promising to abstain from intoxicating liquors for three months ; but I am inclined to think in this matter also that other considerations than respect and gratitute influenced Bill’s decision. We shall see. Twelve months later I was In Black Regis again. I could discern no change in the place, save perhaps that the air seemed even more murky, and the fumes more nauseous than ever. There were the same struggling rows of huts, and I could hear the same ceaseless tap! tap! tap! tap! of the hammers. At the Rising Sun I made inquiries respecting Be.-s, aud was somewhat amused, but only partly surprised, to find that she wss married—to Bill Thomson. Bill, true to his promise, had abstained from drink for the specified three months, and, at the expiration of that time, had paid a special visit to the hnt of Bess to inform her e f the f*ot. She was busy with her work as Bill stroll d in, and to his humble ‘ .Evenin' Bess!’ characteristically replied : ‘Now then, what are yon after now? Don't come here foolin’ round, for I ain’t no time to talk.’ 'Well, Bess,’ apologetically responded Bill, ‘ I’ve kept my promise.’ ‘ What promise ?’ queried Bess, striking the bar of iron at the same time, and causing a fan-shower of sparks to fly round the hut. ‘ Why, about the drink. It’s three months to-day since 1 promised as I wouldn’t have any more, an’ X ain’t neither. ‘ Well, do yon f«el any worse for It ?’ • X feel a good eight better, an’ I’ve saved a bit o’ coin too. I shouldn’t a done It but for you. Bess ; an’ I como to see if you’ll go shares in it. It’s as much yours as mine, you see, for if it hadn’t been for ycu, I shouldn’t ’ •

‘Here, stow it!’ interrupted matter-of-fact Bess j ’what do yon take me for Think I want your coin ? I never see such a fool In all my life.’ • Won’t you have tt, then ?’ * Have it ? No I What ’nd I have it for ? ’Tain’t mine, ’

* Well then, Bess, I’ll te’l you what I’ll do, ’ said the desperate Bill ; ‘ I’ll make a bargain with you. I’ll promise to be teetotal for another three months, if you’ll promise to be my wife at the end of ’em.’ Bess was silent. This honest proposal was perhaps not quite unexpected; but honest B;sa know not how to meet It.

She replied—*l never eeo such fools as some men Is ;’ but it is "aid she shealthlly wiped a tear from he* b ight brown eyes, and gnlped down a lamp that rose in her throat.

4 Ccme, Bess, -what d’ nay ?’ eoaxingly inqoJred anxious Bill. • What do I say ? Why, that I never see such a fool. What on earth do you want to throw yourself away on a good-for-nothing like me for ? I ain't no mortal use only to myself ; and what’s the use o’ you tying a tin can like me to ynnr tail to scamper through the world wi’? Of coarse I’d S iontr go wi’ you nrr rn/b( dy else—allays thougut so—but then I n :Vor thought as you’d ask me.’ ‘ Then it’s a barg iiu ? asked B it. ■Well, might do worse. Bit mind yon, not a word to anybody about it, cr over yin go. I ain’t a gol.’ to have folks a talkin’ about me. ’

4 Nob a word, Baas. Bless yon, old gal.’ The three mouths passed away, and, all preparations having been secretly made, Be-s and Bill were quietly married, only two partlealor friends being informed of the affair before it came off, snd they only on the very morning of tho ceremony. There was great excitement at Black Regis when the marriage was made public, and all determ ned on giving some testimony of their goodwill. A private subscription list was opened at once, snd as Bess had kept hvr love affair snob a secret from them, they thought it only fair that they should keep their intentions secret from her. There was something rudely noble about this arrangement When the money had been collected, the difficulty of providing a suitable present arose. What could they give her ? Some one suggested giving her the money, and allowing her to spend It as she throughs proper. But this was indignantly negatived. They know Bess too well to think she would accept a gift of money from them It ia a strange but wholesome characteristic of the English people, that the smallest present of manufactured goods is thankfully aocepted and gratefully acknowledged, while a gift of m mey is rejected as an insult, .after such consultation, it was decided to present her with a tea service snd—a cradle 1 Tho latter article is generally considered by such people—and not always them alone—as an indispensable article of domestic furniture, and therefore a suitable thing to present to a person newly married. (he presentation-was made at night, and for onoe Bess was speechless. Good, simple soul, tho possibility of such an expression of regard from her rough neighbors had never occurred to h’-r. She could only mutter demurely her customary, 4 I never see such foots as some folks is ’ and then bile her face In her hands and bnrst into tears. Bo kind herself, the kindness of others usual y so rough and emotionless was too muoh for her.

Bill thanked tho friends for their gift, and printing to weeping Bess, said—‘ You see, boys, she a : n't used to this sort of thing, an’ It’s kind o’ knocked her over. I know you means well, an’ 1 shan’t forget It-. Bat if it’s all ths same, perhaps you wouldn’t mind leaving Bess an’ me alone a bit till she kind o’ gets over it. You see, I don’t want you to think as I don’t think enough of what you’ve done ; only, you see, she ain’t used to this sort o’ thing, and it’s kind o’ knocked her over.’

The audience kindly left the newly-married pair together. Six months had passed away tho marriage, when I once more stood in tho hut of Besj—now Mrs Thomson, As I entered, she looked up with a smi'e of recognition, and a hearty : 4 Hullo! here again, sir ? Why what on earth do you sea hero, to make you come back again ? ’ ‘Not much, Mrs Thomson, truly,’ I replied, laying great stress upon her new name.

She blushed crimson as tho laughingly replied : ‘Ah ! 1 thought as they’d tell you as soon as you set foot in the place. 1 never see such born idiots in all my days.’ ‘ Well, I must congratulate yon on your marriage ; and I hope you will be happy together,’ ‘ Well, you see, Bill was snob a fool, an' couldn’t take care of hisaelf. You know I had to fish him out o’ tho water once. But he ain’t tasted drink since, an’ he promised as he wouldn’t if I’d marry him. An’ yon see it was a pity to see a fellow like Bill goin’ an’ makin’ such a fool of biaself ; so I thought I might as well take care on him, as leave him to somebody worse than myself. I ain’t a bad sort, if I am a bit rough ; but men is no good If they ain’t got some’dy to look after ’em. ’

(To bo continued.')