LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2522, 9 May 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

BE3S—A CHARACTER SKETCH. ( Concluded ) Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she threw down her hammer, and bidding mo ‘dome here a minute.’ hurried out of the hut to a little one-stot ey house that stood do -e by. Opening tho un’oeked door, sha hade me enter, and th-n with the a ' r °f duchess, threw open a little cupboard door with one hand, and pointed to a prettbyfurnished or-idle with tho other.

‘Oh! Your wedding presents? I exclaimed.

‘ Yes ! ’ she replied with some pride, and with tho shadow of a tear glistening in her bright eye; ‘they ain’t much, sir; least ways, they don’t seem much to you, I s’poso; but you know we’re poor folks about hero, an’ has to work hard f-.r aT as wo got, an’ it was all they could afford ; on’ it was good of ’em, wasn’t it ? ’ At the recollection of the presentation episode, the truant tears overflowed the reservoir of feeling, and trickled down the dusty cheek, I am not ashamed to confess that the water stood in my own eyes as I huskily replied that ‘ it was go-'d of them.’ I think I never realised so fully before the true worth of a genuine, though humble gift, and the sunshine of gratitude and joy it will shed upon the heart and life of an honest recipient. There was more robust joy in that heart of Bess’s over that cradle and those cups and saucers, than Is felt by the majority of richly dowered brides, anyone of whose presents would bo a modest competence to such as she. ‘Ah! sir, we ain’t all as black as you’d think from our faces. We’re rough outside, an’ not over-nice ; but we know how to feel, an’ to help each other.’ Casting one hasty glance at the household treasures, she once more repaired to the little hut, and taking up hjr hammer, commenced her labors again with renewed vigour. ‘ Well, Mrs Thomson— ’ * Now then, none o’ that! Call me Bes? ’ ‘ Well then, Buss, I must be making my way back.’ ‘ Won’t you stay an’— You’ll excuse me, air, for asking you, but won’t you stay an’ have a bite with ns ? Bill ’ll be come home directly. Ah 1 there he is—an’ he’ll be glad to B°e you. We can’t offer yru much, but what wo have you’re welcome to.’ 1 scarcely knew what to say to this proposal. I really wanted to leave Black Regis by the first train, but I was afraid that I should offend Bess if I refused to accept her invitation. I therefore determined to stay. I found Bill a rough-and-ready honest fellow, like the general clues of people Inhabiting such districts. But he had not the natural sagacity and shrewdness of Bess, who was literally his ‘better half.’ He knew this too, and looked up to her as a superior being. Dudng her temporary absence he said, proudly, * She’s a good no, is Bess, sir, and she’s more in her head than many as thinks thty’re clever. Saved my life, too, sir. Ah, she’s a good un, Is Bess!’ And I quite agreed with Bill, Other six months elapsed before I once more set foot in Black Regis. My first impulse was to walk straight to the hut of Bess ; but remembering that, on the occasion of my former visit, I had received much valuable information respeoting her from the landlord of the Rising Sun, I determined to pay a passing visit to ascertain if anything unusual had occurred during ray absence. In reply to my query, ‘Howls Bess?’ tho face of the landlord became at once sorrowful and distressed, and I then learned for the first time that poor Bess was dead. Io a disjointed fashion, I managed to glean the following facts from my informant. Some months after my last visit, a great event occurred in the Thomson household—a son and heir was born to Bill. Of course, there was great rejoicing in Black Regis. Everybody in the place took an active interest in the affair, and discussed the future prospects of the little stranger over pipes and beer, and at house corners, cs keenly as though some event of national importance had transpired. Bill was peculiarly exoited ; Bess was calmly happy. Only one feeble complaint she uttered when informed that the child was a boy : ‘ I’d rather it had been a gal; men is such fools!’ After this she settled down to the inevitable with good grace, showing great affection for the little life thrown upon her care. A few days after the occurrence Bill, who had been staying at home to wait on his spouse, went to bis work again as usual, leaving Bess with her child dependent upon the friendly assistance of kindly neighbors. As the evening came, Bess grew perceptibly anxious. Gould she have spoken her fears, she would have said she was wondering If Bill would be tempted by his master to take drink on the joyful occasion of the birth of his child. She knew he was not hard to persuade when surrounded by friends, and besides It was a recognised custom to drink the health of a child when born. Bess did not say anything to the neighbor who came in to attend her, but she was anxious nevertheless.

The time for hia appearance passed, and the shades of the autnmn evening fell. Still he did not come. Should she ask some one to go and inquire for him P No ! She must not let them think she doubted him. He would come all right yet. Something had happened at the works to detain him. The suspense grew terrible. She could hear it no longer. Excitement gave her strength. Rising from her bed, and leaving the infant asleep there, she with some difficulty pulled on her clothes. She was tottering feebly towards the door, when her straining ear canght the sou; dof a muffled cry. She had heard that cry once before It caused her heart to leap, and the blood to course like fire through her veins. Strung up with the energy of a strong soul rinsed by the cry of duty and danger, she sprang to the door and rushed wildly out into the chill darkness of the deepening night. Straight to the dangerous pool of the canal she staggered with a peculiar Instinct bred of fear, and the remembrance of a former adventure there. As she reached the edve of the bank she saw a clenched hand disappearing be. neath the surface of the mud-stirred water, and heedless of all but the one fact of her husband drowning there, she plunged wildly in and clutched the horny fingers with a desperate grasp, and with almost superhuman strength succeeded in dragging the unconscious Bill to the sloping edge of the oanal. Having accomplished this, her poor human nature could do no more. With a feeble cry for help, she sank down in the shallow water exhausted and insensible. Hearing her cry, two or three neighbors rushed to the spot, and qnickly carried the husband and wife to their humble abode. With great promptitude and care they attended to poor Bess, and sent for the doctor to attend to Bill. But for Bill it was too late. The strong man bad breathed bis last. They dared not tell Bess, for fear the shook shou'd be too mnoh for her. Bill’s body was removed to a neighbor’s house, while the doctor set about measures to prevent serious consequences to the devoted wife. But alas ! no medicine could avail. The shook had been too severe. In a few bourse she was delirious and In a raging fever. The burden of her ravings was Bill. ‘ I never see such a fool as Bill. He ain’t no more sense than a child. Ha I my little pet. Ah 1 I wish he’d been a gal, men is such fools. Ton promised me you'd swear off the drink, and here you go foolin’ round, and falling into the oaral. ’ Then suddenly changing, and speaking to the doctor. ‘ Shhh I Don’t let Bill know aa I’m dying. He’s such a fool, an ’nil c*rry on so. Tell him I shall get better. But when I do go, make him promise to take care o’ the kid. You will, won't yon ? It ain’t no fault o’ his poor little soul. I wish he’d a-been a girl, though, But then he ain’t; and maybe he won’t bo such a fool aa Bill. Make him swear off the drink when he grows up ; it makes men snob fools. Ah 1 you’ll put him In the craddle ? I thought I should ha’ rooked it myself ; hut Bill can do It Instead. It rvas good of ’em, wasn’t it though, to give us that ? God bless ’em 1 ’ And thus poor Bess rambled on. The struggle was fierce and short with her. In forty-eight hours after the time she was carried all wet and senseless to her bed, her heart was stilled for ever. Poor Bess.

They buried Bill and her together in the little ohurchya.d, the greater part of Black Regis following the remains in procession, and shedding tears over the grave. Something had gone out of their Uvea. They felt its loss, and know that it would never be supplied. There was only one thing left for them to do after they had laid their idol In the ground, and that was to take care of the child, A meeting was held to talk over the

beat method of performing their duty in thl» reapeot. After much discussion, a simple and efficacious plan was decided upon and agreed to. They would support the youngster by weekly offering. A box would bo kept at the Rising Sun to receive the free-will offerings of as many as cared to contribute towards the maintenance of the child. Is should be called ‘ Bess’s Box ’ This sacred duty performed, the meeting disperod, but only to reassemble the next night to discuss another matter concerning the departed Bess. It would not do to allow her grave to have no protection from the sacrilege of those who in a short time would see only a green mound. They must protect the sacred dust with a tombstone. The tombstone was erected, and the grave surrounded with hanging chains attached to four small stone pillars. The landlord of the Rising Sun accompanied mo to the churchyard, but not before showing mo ‘ Bess’s Box,’ and thanking mo for my tribute. We stood beside the little mound with uncovered heads, and looked down upon the green sod that covered the heroio woman who had had

The homage of a thousand hearts, The strong deep love of one. I thought of that cherry face, those sparkling eyes, the genial smile, and the welcome voice silent for ever. On the next little stone at the head of the grave were the words, characteristic of the rough people who had inscribed them :— ‘ i 1 era lie Bill

Thomson, and the Queen of Black Regis, Bess.’