"Ah," I said, "if I have described all that I saw in my dream, you may depend upon it it is true. But when I go to Southwood I will ask the Old Oak, for we are the greatest friends imaginable, and he tells me everything. He has known me ever since I was a child, and never sees me but he enters into conversation."

"What about?"

"The past, present, and future-a very fruitful subject of conversation, I a.s.sure you."

"Wide enough, certainly."

"None too wide for a tree of his standing."

"Ask him, dear, if Joe will marry this Polly Sweetlove."

"He will not tell me that; he makes a special reservation in favour of lovers' secrets. They would not confide their loves to his keeping so often as they do if he betrayed them. No, he's a staunch old fellow in that respect, and the consequence is, that for centuries lovers have breathed their vows under his protecting branches."

"I'm sorry for that-I mean I am sorry he will not tell you about this young couple, for I should like to know if they will marry. Indeed, you must find out somehow, for everyone who reads your book will be curious on this subject."

"What, as to whether ploughman Joe will marry Polly the housemaid. Had he been the eldest son of the Squire now, and she the Vicar's daughter, instead of the maid-"

"It would not have been a whit more interesting, for love is love, and human nature the same in high and low degree. But, perhaps, this old tree doesn't know anything about future events?"

"He knows from his long experience of the past what will happen if certain conditions are given; he knows, for instance, the secret whispers, and the silent tokens exchanged beneath his boughs, and from them he knows what will a.s.suredly result if things take their ordinary course."

"So does anyone, prophet or no prophet."

"But his process of reasoning, based upon the experience of a thousand years, is unerring; he saw William the Conqueror, and listened to a council of war held under his branches; he knew what would happen if William's projects were successful: whether they would be successful was not within his knowledge. He was intimately acquainted with Herne's Oak at Windsor, and they frequently visited."

"Visited! how was that possible?"

"Quite possible; trees visit one another just the same as human beings-they hold intercourse by means of the wind. For instance, when the wind blows from the north-east, Southwood Oak visits at Windsor Park, and when the wind is in the opposite direction a return visit is paid.

There isn't a tree of any position in England but the Old Oak of Southwood knows. He is in himself the History of England, only he is unlike all other histories, for he speaks the truth."

"He must have witnessed many love scenes!"

"Thousands!"

"Tell me some?"

"Not now-besides, I must ask leave."

"Does he ever tell you anything about yourself?"

"A great deal-it is our princ.i.p.al topic of conversation; but he always begins it, lest my modesty should prevent any intercourse on the subject."

"What has he said?"

"A great deal: he has inspired me with hope, even instilled into me some ambition: he has tried to impart to me an admiration of all that is true, and to awaken a detestation of all that is mean and pettifogging. I never look at him but I see the symbol of all that is n.o.ble, grand and brave: he is the emblem of stability, friendship and affection; a monument of courage, honesty, and fidelity; he is the type of manly independence and self-reliance. I am glad, therefore, that under his beautiful branches, and within his protecting presence, two young hearts have again met and pledged, as I believe they have, their troth, honestly resolving to battle together against the storms of life, rooted in stedfast love, and rejoicing in the sunshine of the Creator's smiles!"

After these observations, which were received with marked approval, I again gave myself up to the soft influence of a dreamy repose.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

A consultation as to new lodgings.-Also a consultation with counsel.

It was a subject of grave discussion between the b.u.mpkins and Joe, as to where would be the best place for the plaintiff to lodge on his next visit to London. If he had moved in the upper ranks of life, in all probability he would have taken Mrs. b.u.mpkin to his town house: but being only a plain man and a farmer, it was necessary to decide upon the most convenient, and at the same time, inexpensive locality.

Mrs. b.u.mpkin, who, of course, knew all about her husband's adventures, was strongly opposed to his returning to the Goose. Never had created thing lost so much in her estimation by mere a.s.sociation as this domestic bird. Joe was a fine soldier, no doubt, but it was the Goose that had taken him in.

Curiously enough, as they were discussing this important question, who should come in but honest Lawyer Prigg himself.

What a blessing that man seemed to be, go where he would! Why, he spread an air of hope and cheerfulness over this simple household the moment he entered it! But the greatest virtue he dispensed was resignation; he had a large stock of this on hand. He always preached it: "resignation to the will of Providence;" resignation to him, Prigg!

So when he came in with his respectable head, professional collar, and virtuous necktie, Mr. and Mrs. b.u.mpkin could not choose but rise. Mr.

b.u.mpkin meekly pulled his hair, and humbly bowed obeisance as to his benefactor. Mrs. b.u.mpkin curtseyed as to a superior power, whom she could not recognize as a benefactor. Joe stood up, and looked as if he couldn't quite make out what Mr. Prigg was. He knew he worked the Law somehow, and "summut like as a man works a steam-threshing machine, but how or by what means, was a mystery unrevealed to the mind of the simple soldier."

"Good morning! good morning!" said Mr. Prigg, after the manner of a patriarch conferring a blessing. "Well, Joe, so you are returned, are you? Come, now, let me shake hands with one of our brave heroes!"

What condescension! and his tone was the tone of a man reaching down from a giddy height to the world beneath him.

"So you were in the thick of the fight, were you-dear me! what a charge that was!" Ah, but, dear reader, you should see Prigg's charges!

"I wur someur about, sir," said Joe. "I dunnow where now though."

"Quite so," said Mr. Prigg, "it was a great victory; I'm told the enemy ran away directly they heard our troops were coming."

"Now look at that," said Joe; "what a lot of lies do get about sure-ly!"

"Dear me!" said Mr. Prigg; "but you beat them, did you not? we won the battle?"

"That's right enough," said Joe; "but if they'd run away we couldn't a beat un-'tain't much of a fight when there's no enemy."

"Haw, haw, haw!" laughed b.u.mpkin. "That be good, Mr. Prigg, that be good!"

"Very good, very good, indeed," said Mr. Prigg; "I don't wonder at your winning if you could make such sallies as that."

And that was good for Mr. Prigg.

"And now," said he, "to business-business, eh?"

"We be jist gwine to 'ave a nice piece o' pork and greens, Mr. Prigg, would ee please to tak some," said Mr. b.u.mpkin.

"Dear me!" answered Prigg; "how very strange, my favourite dish-if ever Mrs. Prigg is in doubt about-"

"It be wery plain," said b.u.mpkin.

"The plainer the better, my dear sir; as I always say to my servants, if you-"