_Lady P._ It is to be hoped that the loss may at least check the foolish pride and extravagance of young Bursal, who, as my son tells me----

(_A cry of_ 'Huzza! huzza!' _behind the scenes._)

_Enter_ LORD JOHN.

_Lord J._ (_hastily_). How d'ye do, mother? Miss Talbot, I give you joy.

_Lady P._ Take breath--take breath.

_Louisa._ It is my brother.

_Mrs. T._ Here he is!--Hark! hark!

(_A cry behind the scenes of_ 'Talbot and truth for ever!

Huzza!')

_Louisa._ They are chairing him.

_Lord J._ Yes, they are chairing him; and he has been chosen for his honourable conduct, not for his electioneering skill; for, to do him justice, Coriola.n.u.s himself was not a worse electioneerer.

_Enter_ RORY O'RYAN _and another Eton lad, carrying_ TALBOT _in a chair, followed by a crowd of Eton lads._

_Rory._ By your _lave_, my lord--by your _lave_, ladies.

_Omnes._ Huzza! Talbot and truth for ever! Huzza!

_Talb._ Set me down! There's my mother! There's my sister!

_Rory._ Easy, easy. Set him down! No such _ting_! give him t'other huzza! There's nothing like a good loud huzza in this world. Yes, there is! for, as my Lord John said just now, out of some book or out of his own head--

One self-approving hour whole years outweighs Of stupid starers and of loud huzzas.

CURTAIN FALLS

FORGIVE AND FORGET

In the neighbourhood of a seaport town in the west of England there lived a gardener, who had one son, called Maurice, to whom he was very partial. One day his father sent him to the neighbouring town to purchase some garden seeds for him. When Maurice got to the seed-shop, it was full of people, who were all impatient to be served: first a great tall man, and next a great fat woman pushed before him; and he stood quietly beside the counter, waiting till somebody should be at leisure to attend to him. At length, when all the other people who were in the shop had got what they wanted, the shopman turned to Maurice--'And what do you want, my patient little fellow?' said he.

'I want all these seeds for my father,' said Maurice, putting a list of seeds into the shopman's hand; 'and I have brought money to pay for them all.'

The seedsman looked out all the seeds that Maurice wanted, and packed them up in paper: he was folding up some painted lady-peas, when, from a door at the back of the shop, there came in a square, rough-faced man, who exclaimed, the moment he came in, 'Are the seeds I ordered ready?--The wind's fair--they ought to have been aboard yesterday. And my china jar, is it packed up and directed? where is it?'

'It is up there on the shelf over your head, sir,' answered the seedsman. 'It is very safe, you see; but we have not had time to pack it yet. It shall be done to-day; and we will get the seeds ready for you, sir, immediately.'

'Immediately! then stir about it. The seeds will not pack themselves up.

Make haste, pray.' 'Immediately, sir, as soon as I have done up the parcel for this little boy.' 'What signifies the parcel for this little boy? He can wait, and I cannot--wind and tide wait for no man. Here, my good lad, take your parcel and sheer off,' said the impatient man; and, as he spoke, he took up the parcel of seeds from the counter, as the shopman stooped to look for a sheet of thick brown paper and packthread to tie it up.

The parcel was but loosely folded up, and as the impatient man lifted it, the weight of the peas which were withinside of it burst the paper, and all the seeds fell out upon the floor, whilst Maurice in vain held his hands to catch them. The peas rolled to all parts of the shop; the impatient man swore at them, but Maurice, without being out of humour, set about collecting them as fast as possible.

Whilst the boy was busied in this manner, the man got what seeds he wanted; and as he was talking about them, a sailor came into the shop, and said, 'Captain, the wind has changed within these five minutes, and it looks as if we should have ugly weather.'

'Well, I'm glad of it,' replied the rough-faced man, who was the captain of a ship. 'I am glad to have a day longer to stay ash.o.r.e, and I've business enough on my hands.' The captain pushed forward towards the shop door. Maurice, who was kneeling on the floor, picking up his seeds, saw that the captain's foot was entangled in some packthread which hung down from the shelf on which the china jar stood. Maurice saw that, if the captain took one more step forward, he must pull the string, so that it would throw down the jar, round the bottom of which the packthread was entangled. He immediately caught hold of the captain's leg, and stopped him, 'Stay! Stand still, sir!' said he, 'or you will break your china jar.'

The man stood still, looked, and saw how the packthread had caught in his shoe buckle, and how it was near dragging down his beautiful china jar. 'I am really very much obliged to you, my little fellow,' said he.

'You have saved my jar, which I would not have broken for ten guineas, for it is for my wife, and I've brought it safe from abroad many a league. It would have been a pity if I had broken it just when it was safe landed. I am really much obliged to you, my little fellow, this was returning good for evil. I am sorry I threw down your seeds, as you are such a good-natured, forgiving boy. Be so kind,' continued he, turning to the shopman, 'as to reach down that china jar for me.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: _'Stay! Stand still, sir! or you will break your china jar.'_]

The shopman lifted down the jar very carefully, and the captain took off the cover, and pulled out some tulip-roots. 'You seem, by the quant.i.ty of seeds you have got, to belong to a gardener. Are you fond of gardening?' said he to Maurice.

'Yes, sir,' replied Maurice, 'very fond of it; for my father is a gardener, and he lets me help him at his work, and he has given me a little garden of my own.'

'Then here are a couple of tulip-roots for you; and if you take care of them, I'll promise you that you will have the finest tulips in England in your little garden. These tulips were given to me by a Dutch merchant, who told me that they were some of the rarest and finest in Holland. They will prosper with you, I'm sure, wind and weather permitting.'

Maurice thanked the gentleman, and returned home, eager to show his precious tulip-roots to his father, and to a companion of his, the son of a nurseryman, who lived near him. Arthur was the name of the nurseryman's son.

The first thing Maurice did, after showing his tulip-roots to his father, was to run to Arthur's garden in search of him. Their gardens were separated only by a low wall of loose stones:--'Arthur! Arthur!

where are you? Are you in your garden? I want you.' But Arthur made no answer, and did not, as usual, come running to meet his friend. 'I know where you are,' continued Maurice, 'and I'm coming to you as fast as the raspberry-bushes will let me. I have good news for you--something you'll be delighted to see, Arthur!--Ha!--but here is something that I am not delighted to see, I am sure,' said poor Maurice, who, when he had got through the raspberry-bushes, and had come in sight of his own garden, beheld his bell-gla.s.s--his beloved bell-gla.s.s, under which his cuc.u.mbers were grown so finely--his only bell-gla.s.s, broken to pieces!

'I am sorry for it,' said Arthur, who stood leaning upon his spade in his own garden; 'I am afraid you will be very angry with me.' 'Why, was it you, Arthur, broke my bell-gla.s.s? Oh, how could you do so?' 'I was throwing weeds and rubbish over the wall, and by accident a great lump of couch-gra.s.s, with stones hanging to the roots, fell upon your bell-gla.s.s, and broke it, as you see.'

Maurice lifted up the lump of couch-gra.s.s, which had fallen through the broken gla.s.s upon his cuc.u.mbers, and he looked at his cuc.u.mbers for a moment in silence--'Oh, my poor cuc.u.mbers! you must all die now. I shall see all your yellow flowers withered to-morrow; but it is done, and it cannot be helped; so, Arthur, let us say no more about it.'

'You are very good; I thought you would have been angry. I am sure I should have been exceedingly angry if you had broken the gla.s.s, if it had been mine.'

'Oh, forgive and forget, as my father always says; that's the best way.

Look what I have got for you.' Then he told Arthur the story of the captain of the ship, and the china jar; the seeds having been thrown down, and of the fine tulip-roots which had been given to him; and Maurice concluded by offering one of the precious roots to Arthur, who thanked him with great joy, and repeatedly said, 'How good you were not to be angry with me for breaking your bell-gla.s.s! I am much more sorry for it than if you had been in a pa.s.sion with me!'

Arthur now went to plant his tulip-root; and Maurice looked at the beds which his companion had been digging, and at all the things which were coming up in his garden.

'I don't know how it is,' said Arthur, 'but you always seem as glad to see the things in my garden coming up, and doing well, as if they were all your own. I am much happier since my father came to live here, and since you and I have been allowed to work and to play together, than I ever was before; for you must know, before we came to live here, I had a cousin in the house with me, who used to plague me. He was not nearly so good-natured as you are. He never took pleasure in looking at my garden, or at anything that I did that was well done; and he never gave me a share of anything that he had; and so I did not like him; how could I?

But, I believe that hating people makes us unhappy; for I know I never was happy when I was quarrelling with him; and I am always happy with you, Maurice. You know we never quarrel.'

It would be well for all the world if they could be convinced, like Arthur, that to live in friendship is better than to quarrel. It would be well for all the world if they followed Maurice's maxim of 'Forgive and Forget,' when they receive, or when they imagine that they receive, an injury.

Arthur's father, Mr. Oakly, the nurseryman, was apt to take offence at trifles; and when he thought that any of his neighbours disobliged him, he was too proud to ask them to explain their conduct; therefore he was often mistaken in his judgment of them. He thought that it showed _spirit_, to remember and to resent an injury; and, therefore, though he was not an ill-natured man, he was sometimes led, by this mistaken idea of _spirit_, to do ill-natured things: 'A warm friend and a bitter enemy,' was one of his maxims, and he had many more enemies than friends. He was not very rich, but he was proud; and his favourite proverb was, 'Better live in spite than in pity.'

When first he settled near Mr. Grant, the gardener, he felt inclined to dislike him, because he was told that Mr. Grant was a Scotchman, and he had a prejudice against Scotchmen; all of whom he believed to be cunning and avaricious, because he had once been overreached by a Scotch peddler. Grant's friendly manners in some degree conquered this prepossession; but still he secretly suspected that _this civility_, as he said, '_was all show_, and _that he was not, nor could not, being a Scotchman, be such a hearty friend as a true-born Englishman_.'

Grant had some remarkably fine raspberries. The fruit was so large as to be quite a curiosity. When it was in season, many strangers came from the neighbouring town, which was a sea-bathing place, to look at these raspberries, which obtained the name of _Brobdingnag_ raspberries.

'How came you, pray, neighbour Grant, if a man may ask, by these wonderful fine raspberries?' said Mr. Oakly, one evening, to the gardener. 'That's a secret,' replied Grant, with an arch smile.