Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 200: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

. utterance to the words. 202 antidote for this disease would obtain not only\down!” muttered the fellow. the blessings of the poor, but also of the wealthy. But, alas! I fear the day is long dis- tant when that will be. Those who try it, how- ever brave of heart and persistent of purpose, give up the task in despair: and why ? because there are two classes of poor—the deserving and the undeserving, and the keenest observer is powerless to weed the good from the bad. A generous soul and a benevolent heart meet with inspiration at every step, and thus those who deserve sympathy are more often overlooked than they would be. Ere poverty can cease to exist, the youthful mind must be trained, and taught to respect itself—education must do the work. ‘The seeds of self-reliance and self-respect implanted in the mind of the child will make the man exert himself—struggle for a position with hand and brain, rather than wait in idle- ness for others to doit for him. Heaven helps those who help themselves ; but while there are so many canker worms festering in the heart of society, the truly deserving are but ill-assisted. But I am moralising, and forget that I have encroached upon forbidden precincts. There’s the path. Hallo! here’s a chawbacon coming this way. Confoundit! the fellow will catch me among the corn! I don’t think he has seen me yet, but he is sure to do so. III crouch down behind the scarecrow till he has gone, for I’m almost too tired with my night’s work to care for a tussel with that raw-boned fellow, refreshed by a good night’s slumber, and made strong by pure air, honest toil, and frugal fare.”’ Thus saying, Jack crouched down so as to permit the body of the scarecrow to conceal him from the path which the honest countryman was passing on his way to his daily toil, whistling gleefully as he trudged along with somewhat long strides. ‘‘ Honest labour is truly the source of happi- ness,” said Jack, as he listened to the yokel’s merry tune. “ Hard worked and poorly paid as that fellow is, his heart is as light as the down that falls from the thistle. Work strangles care and laughs at misery. Be it ever so humble, the man that toils for his bread enjoys a happiness unknown to the indolent.” The man ceased whistling, and broke out into a song, in which, if there was no tune, there was something hearty in the way which he gave One would think that perhaps he wished to drown the tones of the birds, so loudly did he carol forth his ditty :— “To plough and to sow, to reap and to mow, And to be a farmer’s boy.’’ So long did he dwell upon the last word, how- ever, that Jack slightly raised himself to get a glimpse at the man, and by so doing knocked over the scarecrow. But in a moment Jack had it in position again, but not before its upset had been ob- served by the man, who instantly hushed his song, and paused in his walk, looked hard in the direction of the effigy, and scratched his head hard to enable him to account for its sudden fall, and still more sudden rise. ‘‘ Well, if that bean’t the first time I ever saw a scarecrow get up of itself after he’d tumbled oe ee SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. “Tt beats me, it does, and it doesn’t take a little to do that.” The man walked a little further along the path, then paused to get a glimpse behind the scarecrow. But Jack took the precaution also to shift his position, thus defeating the man’s object of see- ing whether there was anything behind it. Still perplexed, the countryman walked back some distance, and paused, and looked again. But again Jack shifted his position. Still more puzzled, the man took off his bat- tered billycock, and scratched his head with both hands, while he gave vent to a loud and prolonged whistle. indicative of nothing in par- ticular and everything in general. “That beats I!” he exclaimed, “‘ dang it if it doan’t! A scarecrow fall down and get up again of itself! Well, nobody would believe it, if I told ’°em I saw it with my own eyes. I won’t be beat. Jll know how it did it, if I tread down half an acre of corn. Dang it! it beats I, it does—it beats I!” And the man forced his billycock on to his head, and stepped from the path in the direction of the figure and our hero. “Confound the fellow!” muttered Jack, “there’s no help for it now. I must be seen, and the man’s doubts set at rest. I fain would have avoided him ; but as that.can’t be done, I suppose I must give him a shock, and then take myself off.” He drew his mask from his pocket, and adjusted it to his face. The man did not come on very rapidly, although the strides he took were of enormous length, doubtless so that he should hew down as little of the young corn as possible. However, Jack did not have to wait very long before the man stood within a couple of yards of him, when he paused, and looked hard and curiously at the scarecrow. | “There be the stake that holds it,” said the man, “‘fixed in it all right. It beats me, it does!” | So saying, he moved slowly round. As he did so, Jack, still crouching so that his head should not come above the shoulders of the stuffed figure, kept hold of the ragged garments, and turned the effigy round,-walking with it, and keeping the front of the scareerow still present to the wondering gaze of the astonished countryman. When the man had walked a perfect circle, with the scarecrow still moving round as well, he came to a full stop, and opening his eyes and mouth to a tremendous width, stood glaring upon the figure in utter bewilderment for some moments, then stepped back a few paces, paused, and looked again, and, finally, knocking his billyeock-on one side, scratched away at his rough head as if he would tear the skin off his ate. ; ‘““T seen some hundred of scarecrows,” he muttered, after a time, ‘‘ but I never seed one afore as could do that. If I doan’t begin to think the dang thing’s haunted by an evil spirit ; and if it is, the crop will be a bad one, It'll be a bad harvest, I fear. It beats I, it does. The devil’s init ; and if I bean’t off pretty sharp, , CO | IOO Nic “Ss; €O — cc — ='