Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 202: what you’re looking at

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

— 204 SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: As he was about to make his presence known, the animal, which was submitting to the milk- ing, shifted its position, and to avoid coming in contact with it, Jack stepped on one side, and when the cow became again stationary our hero was on the opposite side to the beast to that on which the girl sat, gazing down at the frothing milk in the pail, and sighing in a pleasing tone— * Dolly, she was the fairest maid, That carried the milking-pail.”’ “T7ll call her Dolly,” muttered Jack to him- self. Then, raising his voice, he exclaimed— ‘*T’m sure, Dolly, you will not let a thirsty stranger ask in vain for a draught of milk at your hands.”’ At the sound of his voice, the girl leaped up quickly, overturning the three-legged stool, and as her head rose above the cow’s back, and her eyes caught sight of Jack’s mask, she threw up her arms, gave utterance to a loud scream, and fellebackwards into a sitting position into*the pail of milk, splashing it about in all directions, and so alarming the cow that the animal bounded forward, leaving Jack standing gazing in great concern and evident surprise upon the milkmaid, who kicked and plunged and szreamed, till finally the pail rolled over on the grass, carrying Dolly with it. “ What, in heaven’s name”—began Jack. *‘Confound it! I have got my mask on, and frightened the poor girl out of her wits.” He was about to remove it quickly from his face, when Dolly, scrambling to her feet, started off towards the farmhouse, screaming as She went in. tones so shrill and piercing that Jack was certain they must be heard for a longer distance even than the affrighted milk- maid desired them to reach. “ What a forgetful fool lam,” muttered Jack, annoyed at himself. “ But there’s no help for it, and the sooner I’m off the better, if I don’t want a troop of farm-servants belabouring my bones with pitchforks and flails. Egad! here they come. Now, Jack, you’ll have to run for it.’ A number of men, and among them the yokel he had so alarmed in the corn-field, came hurrying from the house to meet the terrified Dolly Jack cast a quick glance around him to see which was the best course to take, and decided upon running in the opposite direction from which he had come. his course he considered best, as in that direttion he perceived a small wooded enclosure, and thinking by making for that he might effectually baffle those who were making to- wards him, his mind was made up to try to reach it. lo do this he had to cross the meadow. He was not a man to think twice before he acted, so away he sped at once, gathering the folds of his cloak around him as he did so. By the time he had started, the men had reached Dolly, and heard her story, which hap- pened to be the same as the yokel’s—that she had seen the devil. Lhe farmer, who had also come out—being better educated than his servants, and having little faith in the supernatural,—persuaded his — ee eee - ee - THE TERROR OF LONDON, followers that it was only some person playing a | ‘trick, and exhorted them to follow him, and | endeavour to capture and pay the rascal with a good beating for his antics. | Finding they had a brave leader, the men quickly armed themselves with pitchforks and other implements, and quickly bounding over the smooth meadow in pursuit of our hero, whose course could plainly be seen, from the ab- sence of all shelter. Wearied as Jack was, he felt that he would have to make great exertions to reach the pre- serves—for such was the little wooded spot he had marked out—and he struggled manfully to accomplish his object.’ In spite of all, however, his pursuers gained upon him, and the gruff voice of the farmer came plainly to his ears as he urged on his men. ‘ Devil, or no devil, we’ll teach him to play pranks on this farm! Come on, lads, and we'll have him, and make his bones sore before he’s many minutes older.” ‘Thank: you,” said Jack ; you, if I can help it.” And exerting all his strength, he bounded on. “JT tell ye, it’s the devil, measter, that was inside the scarecrow,” gasped the countryman, panting for breath. jump like that!” “Come on, I tell you!” roared the angry farmer. “ And the devil take me, if I don’t teach him how to play pranks on my farm. Stop! you vagabond, stop! and have a taste of a yeoman’s arm !”’ he added, calling after Jack. “I should be happy to oblige you,” muttered Jack to himself ; “ but I cannot possibly comply with your request just now, seeing that if I did I might get a tasteof the strength of a dozen arms instead of two; and I don’t feel exactly in right trim for that just now.” “Ah! you raseal, I’ve got you!” cried the farmer, making a grasp at him. ‘ Hold me tight, then,” ex(aimed Jack, taking one of his terrific leaps, which sent him half-a- dozen yards out of the farraer’s reach. “’Gad! If he were a /liorse instead of a man, he’d make an out-and-cut steeple-chaser,” said — the farmer as he recovered from his surprise, and again bounded forward in pursuit. “ But he ain’t a herse, and he bean’t a man, I~ tell ve, measter,”’ cried the countryman. ‘* Hold your xow, you fool,” roared the farmer, vexed that Jack had eluded his grasp. The countryman was silent. ‘Throw a fork at him, one onye, will ye ?and pin him to the ground,” cried the farmer, as Jack reached the edge of the preserve. Whiz-z-z came a pitchfork, which, fortunately for Jack, swerved from its course some five or six feet, as he dashed into the shadow of the trees. ‘“'That’s a pretty weapon to hurl at a man, certainly,’ said Jack. “The idea of those two prongs sticking in my back is not a very pleasant one. But I daresay I can dodge them now.’ ‘Come on, lads! come on!” cried the farmer. ‘* He’s only got out of the frying-pan into the fire. He'll get his leg in one of the traps, or get a Shot from the spring guns.” GDOOKS.CO "com % “but I won’t let — “No mortal man could . . —— * ; ‘ al a a - = a 7 . ; _ .