The Argosy — page 363: what you’re looking at

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

The Syliabub Feast. 349 Mr. Holland came out of the churcir and passed us, halting a moment to speak. ‘‘ I am on my way to pray by poor Gisby,” he said, ‘¢ They have sent for me.” “Help! Thieves! Robbers! Help!” The shouts came from our yard as we were sitting down to breakfast on Monday morning, and we rushed out. There stood Mack, in the greatest state of excitement possible ; his eyes lifted, his arms at work, and his breath gone. The servants ran out too. ‘Why! what on earth’s the matter, Ben Mack?” demanded the Squire. “Have you gone mad?” ‘“‘ We've had thieves in the barn, sir! Thieves. All my clothes is stole.” ‘‘ What clothes ? ” ‘ Them what I left in’t o’ Saturday night, Squire. My smock-frock and my boots, and my spotted cotton neck-handkecher. They be gone, they be.” ‘‘ Nonsense !”” said the Squire, while I and Tod kept our faces. ‘* We have not had thieves here, man.” _ “ But, deed, and the things be gone, Squire. Clean gone! Not so much asa shred on ’em left. Please come and see for yourself, sir.” He turned, and went across the yard with hopping strides. The Squire followed, evidently at fault ; and the rest of us after him. ‘It’s a mercy as the horses and the waggins bain’t took !” cried . Mack. ‘And the harness ! and that there wheelbarrer ” ‘But what do you say és taken, Mack?” interrupted the Squire, cutting him short, and looking round the barn. ‘ All my traps, sir. My best smock-frock ; and my boots ; and my spotted cotton neck-handkecher. A beautiful pair o’ boots, Squire, that I generally keeps here, in case I be sent off to Alcester, or Evesham, or where not, and had to tidy myself up a bit.” Tod backed out of the barn, doubled up. Nearly choking at the *¢ beautiful ” boots. ‘‘ But why do you think they are stolen, Mack ?” said the Squire. ‘‘T left ’em safe here o’ Saturday evening, sir, when I locked up the barn. The things be all gone now; you may see as they be, Squire. ° There bain’t a vestige of ’em—and what will become of me? A’most a new smock-frock, and the beautifullest pair o’ strong boots as ’ud ha’ lasted me for years.” Tod shrieked out at last, unable to help himself. Mack cast a reproachful glance at him, as if he thought the merriment too cruel. ‘‘You must have been drinking on Saturday, Ben Mack, and fancied you left ’em here,” put in Molly, tartly. “Me been a-drinking!” retorted poor bereaved Mack, ready to cry CORnniclooolkks