Puck — May 1877 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

PUCK. 13 : “Doan’t deu the tree no harm, miss. It's like cropping a tarrier, it drives the strength in,” explained Tom, who was not more senti- mental than other gardeners. René laughed and chatted about flowers for awhile, and listened to Reynolds, who talked about his management of them; then finding that talk in this groove was not likely to run on to herself, she changed the subject abruptly. «By the bye,” said she, ‘‘ who is that tall red man of Sir Humphrey Clinker’s?” “You mean his coachman, mi: Red whiskers—ugly-faced man.” not ugly, nor were his whiskers red.) “Yes; but his temper seems viler than his face.” “We all has our tempers, miss. But Gearge has got more ‘an a common sheare, he have, to de sure.” “T gave him a good cut over the face to-day.” “So I heered, miss,” said Reynolds quietly. This was not flattery, so René continued, “And I think he got as much as he de- served.” ‘Tom Reynolds cut away at his roses in silence. “Don't you?” “'Taren’t for me to say, miss.”” “Yes, it is, if I ask you.” “T never say what I doan’t mean, and I know my place, and I doan’t waant to leuse it.” René’s curiosity was increased by his un- willingness to saprces his opinion, and not be- cause she thought it was favorably to herself. Even gardeners know that their interests are not endangered by flattering. She questioned and protested and teased, until he was at length brought to speak. “I doan’t like Gearge,” he said; ‘I've fit him twice, and I'd fight him again to-morrow, so be he gave me just cause. He’s ugly, and he’s bad tempered, and he’s got red hair; but he didn’t deserve to be cut over the face by you, miss; and I felt reg'lar down-hearted when T heard you had done it, miss. It warsn’t a bit like you, miss. It warsn’t generous, and it iss; Gearge. (Tom was “That's my young mistress all over.” It aren't what I shall like to hear talked on at the Ferry- boat; an’ Gearge he will talk of it, he will. Maybe I shall have to fight him to make him hold his tongue. There, miss, it’s a thing like bindweed, that doan’t do no good to nubody, but twines up and spiles the flowers; and I'd just like to have it pulled up by the roots, and see no more on it never.” “Then, pray, what would you do, Mr. Rey- nolds, if a great big ug/y man caught hold of your rein?” “Dussy I'd cut him over his feace same as you, miss, ‘cause I ain't gentle by birth, and haven't had no better education than most of my class, ‘cause Gearge he might try to hit me back agin. Gearge couldn’t hit you, miss, and he must deu what his master told him teu, else he'd lose hes place and starve hes wife and family.” “Then what would you have had me do?” “I'd a been preoud to have seen you suffer him to lead yeou up to the house, miss, that I would. It would have looked like you, miss. You could ’a cut old Clinker over the face, an’ welcome.” René left the house in a huff; she could not answer Tom Reynolds’ arguments, and felt an- gry with him because he had made her angry with herself. She sulked within-doors for an hour; then she started up, caught the first hat she could find, and sallied off to a house in the village where she had seen that red-haired foe occasionally nursing a child. George was gone to the Ferry-boat; but she said she would wait; and she sat down, and made herself agreeable to George's wife for two hours. At the end of warsn’t fair, and it warsn’t right, and it warsn’t | anything that could make me say to myself, | that time he returned, when she made hima handsome apology, and returned home alone at half-past ten o'clock. Nevertheless she crossed the forbidden pad- dock the very next day. ‘ Sir Humphrey added another hurdle to the fence, making it a wide leap; Miss Biron cleared it easily. He had it heightened with furze- bushes; they tore Miss Biron’s habit, otherwise she was unharmed. The next day the furze was backed with a rail; that brought the mare down, and Miss Biron was picked up by Sir Humphrey's men, who were waiting for the event, in a state of insensibility. The injuries she received were sufficiently se- rious to restrict her to carriage exercise for a couple of months. Gregory was of course violently enraged, and cursed the infirmities which pevented him from pulling Sir Humph- rey Clinker’s nose. But a more powerful foe laid his hand upon Gregory’s ancient enemy, and death left the family feud to be sustained by Radcliffe, Sir Humphrey's sole surviving son. For that task Radcliffe was totally unfit, he being a young man of ordinary passions. He did not dislike Gregory Biron sufficiently to wish to injure him; and he admired René too much to injure himself in her estimation. He had been formal and distant in his behavior when he had met René, as the exigencies of the case demanded, and even with his father to encourage him in hostility he had fought faintly; and now he could not bring a single piece against the adversary. He was tired of the game, and would fain give it to be mated by René, Almost the first use he made of his newly-acquired power was to remove the bar- rier his father had erected, and to beg Miss Biron to make whatever use pleased her of any part of his estate. Greatly to her grandfather's annoyance René accepted this treaty of peace, responding to Radcliffe’s overtures with a frank avowal of her amicable inclinations, together with such gener- ous smiles and lingering looks that he became the most fervent of her admirers; for René had many who loved her—that is to say, many who would have broken their necks to get her, but who could not have broken their hearts to lose her. She knew her power to give pleasure, and she exercised it freely. Why should she not make men happy if a mere look or a smile could do it? It gave her no pain, The men were too old and she too young for matters to take se- rious proportions. A mother need not fear for her son whilst he occupies but a twelfth place in a young lady’s consideration. Flirtation is like snapdragon—a game in which romping high-spirited young people pursue each other round a flickering flame, plucking out plums, but touching the burning spirit too quickly to burn their fingers with it. If René had centred her interest upon one of her numerous lovers, she and he might have been the happiest or most miserable of living creatures. For a time she did devote most of her atten- tion to Radcliffe, feeling well disposed towards him because of his good-will, and being de- sirous of annexing to her retinue the richest and handsomest young man of those 3 and for these reasons she kept him by her in the field, and admitted him to her society more than other men, But deeper than any other motive to be kind was a feeling of pity for one who had lost a father. Yet green in her mem- ory was the recollection of the dear one she had lost. When they were in a lane alone, and he spoke of his father, she checked her mare to a walk- ing pace, and listened with downcast eyes to his sentiment. He saw a tear npen her cheek. To have lost that expression of her sympathy he would not have recalled his father from Hades. The next time they were alone he tried again to elicit that evidence of her regard, and she, with quick womanly perception detecting the tricky-cut him dead. He moped and was mis- erable under her displeasure ,and she laughed at his dejection. That made him desperate and angry, and soipiate her he kept out of her way until he could bear his voluntary banishment no longer, and came back to her with submis- sion in his voice and eyes that implored for- giveness. She was cool to him until she found that he was actually suffering, when she became once more kind, though in a modified way, treating him as she treated other men—no bet- ter, no worse, This made him feel that he should like to marry her, and so have her all to himself. He took advantage of the first occa- sion of their being together alone, and said, "I am thinking, Miss Biron, how kind you were to me during the first month of our ac- quaintance.” “You behaved very prettily, and one must be kind to good boys.”” “T have offered you my estate; I have only one other possession to ask you to take, and if I ask you to have that, will it make you kind enough to accept me?” “Is this an offer of marriage?" asked René gaily. Radcliffe said “‘ Yes,” with an uneasy c “You are a good. boy. offer.” “Then may I hope--"" “Of course you may; but you do not expect me to accept you now. The dowdiest girls re- fuse five or six men before they marry. I shall not be content until I have rejected a couple of dozen.” “Ts it not better to marry your first love?” “T should think it would be better to marry the last.” “Is there no romance in life? Is every girl calculating, cold, unsentimental?” “TI am romantic to a degree; and I do not calculate more than most girls, Mr. Clinker.” “Don't call me Clinker.” “Well, Mr. Robinson. I am dreadfully sen- timental. But would there be anything ro- mantic about our marriage? We have known each other two months, and if we were to marry to-morrow we should have nothing to congratulate ourselyes upon. _ Now if you could make me another offer years hence, when our hair is streaked with gray—” “Never!” “That will do better still. You shall go away and break your heart, and when you are dying I will come to you, and a white-haired friar shall join our hands. Oh, that will be famous. You will go away and break your heart, just to oblige me, Mr.—Mr. Robinson.” She laughed till the hill-side ae ee her rippling voice, and broke away from her blush- ing crest-fallen swain at a canter; and from that day she always addressed him as Mr. Ro- binson. The passion a beautiful coquette inspires, with its few brief joys, its many ring pangs, is about as undesirable a ion as the shirt of Nessus, which we should thank our Dejanira to keep to herself. Oh, far better is it to live stark-naked than to be cursed with such cloth- ing. For what is the heat of the midday sun or the chill of midnight winds to the fever heat and death cold of fluctuating love? The sun is hottest but for an hour, and the wind is for- gotten when it has passed by; but the torments brought by that tunic of @re enduring, not to be forgotten until the ‘wretch who wears it has dashed out his br. A For all he suffered, Radclife Giinkeespald not k away from her who ro mentee loved to talk of her; bh. This is my first comicbooks.com