The Ground-Ash | Page 6

the best, though, for myself--unless, ma'am,
you would be pleased to accept it for the purpose of whipping Dash."
Whipping Dash!!! Well have I said that Dick was as saucy as a lady's
page or a king's jester. Talk of whipping Dash! Why, the young
gentleman knew perfectly well that I had rather be whipt myself twenty
times over. The very sound seemed a profanation. Whip my Dash! Of
course I read master Dick a lecture for this irreverent mention of my pet,
who, poor fellow, hearing his name called in question, came up in all
innocence to fondle me; to which grave remonstrance the hopeful youth
replied by another whistle, half of penitence, half of amusement.
These discourses brought us to the bottom of the mound, and turning
round a clump of hawthorn and holly, we espied a little damsel with a
basket at her side, and a large knife in her hand, carefully digging up a
large root of white primroses, and immediately recognised my old
acquaintance, Bessy Leigh.
She was, as before, clean, and healthy, and tidy, and unaffectedly glad

to see me; but the joyousness and buoyancy which had made so much
of her original charm, were greatly diminished. It was clear that poor
Bessy had suffered worse griefs than those of cold and hunger; and
upon questioning her, so it turned out.
Her father had died, and her mother had been ill, and the long hard
winter had been hard to get through; and then the rent had come upon
her, and the steward (for the young gentleman himself was a minor)
had threatened to turn them out if it were not paid to a day--the very
next day after that on which we were speaking; and her mother had
been afraid they must go to the workhouse, which would have been a
sad thing, because now she had got so much washing to do, and Harry
was so clever at basket-making, that there was every chance, this rent
once paid, of their getting on comfortably. "And the rent will be paid
now, ma'am, thank Ood!" added Bessy, her sweet face brightening; "for
we want only a guinea of the whole sum, and Lady Denys has
employed me to get scarce wild-flowers for her wood, and has
promised me half-a-guinea for what I have carried her, and this last
parcel, which I am to take to the lodge to-night; and Mr. John Barlow,
her groom, has offered Harry twelve and sixpence for five
ground-ashes that Harry has been so lucky as to find by the spring, and
Harry is gone to cut them: so that now we shall get on bravely, and
mother need not fret any longer. I hope no harm will befal Harry in
getting the ground-ash, though, for it's a noted dangerous place. But
he's a careful boy."
Just at this point of her little speech, poor Bessy was interrupted by her
brother, who ran down the declivity exclaiming, "They're gone,
Bessy!--they're gone! somebody has taken them! the ground-ashes are
gone!"
Dick put his hand irresolutely to his pocket, and then, uttering a dismal
whistle, pulled it resolutely out again, with a hardness, or an affectation
of hardness, common to all lads, from the prince to the stable-boy.
I also put my hand into my pocket, and found, with the deep
disappointment which often punishes such carelessness, that I had left
my purse at home. All that I could do, therefore, was to bid the poor

children be comforted, and ascertain at what time Bessy intended to
take her roots, which in the midst of her distress she continued to dig
up, to my excellent friend Lady Denys. I then, exhorting them to hope
the best, made my way quickly out of the wood.
Arriving at the gate, I missed my attendant Before, however, I had
reached the farm at which we had left our phaeton, I heard his gayest
and most triumphant whistle behind me. Thinking of the poor children,
it jarred upon my feelings. "Where have you been loitering, Sir?" I
asked, in a sterner voice than he had probably ever heard from me
before.
"Where have I been?" replied he; "giving little Harry the ground-ashes,
to be sure: I felt just as if I had stolen them. And now, I do believe,"
continued he, with a prodigious burst of whistling, which seemed to me
as melodious as the song of the nightingale, "I do believe," quoth Dick,
"that I am happier than they are. I would not have kept those
ground-ashes, no, not for fifty pounds!"

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ground-Ash, by Mary
Russell Mitford
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