The Hand of Ethelberta | Page 3

city gentleman, who was a man of valour in the Lord
Mayor's Show.'
'Who's that chap in the gaiters and pack at his back, come out of the
door but now?' said the milkman, nodding towards a figure of that
description who had just emerged from the inn and trudged off in the
direction taken by the lady--now out of sight.
'Chap in the gaiters? Chok' it all--why, the father of that nobleman that
you call chap in the gaiters used to be hand in glove with half the
Queen's court.'
'What d'ye tell o'?'

'That man's father was one of the mayor and corporation of Sandbourne,
and was that familiar with men of money, that he'd slap 'em upon the
shoulder as you or I or any other poor fool would the clerk of the
parish.'
'O, what's my lordlin's name, make so bold, then?'
'Ay, the toppermost class nowadays have left off the use of wheels for
the good of their constitutions, so they traipse and walk for many years
up foreign hills, where you can see nothing but snow and fog, till
there's no more left to walk up; and if they reach home alive, and ha'n't
got too old and weared out, they walk and see a little of their own
parishes. So they tower about with a pack and a stick and a clane white
pocket-handkerchief over their hats just as you see he's got on his. He's
been staying here a night, and is off now again. "Young man, young
man," I think to myself, "if your shoulders were bent like a bandy and
your knees bowed out as mine be, till there is not an inch of straight
bone or gristle in 'ee, th' wouldstn't go doing hard work for play 'a
b'lieve."'
'True, true, upon my song. Such a pain as I have had in my lynes all
this day to be sure; words don't know what shipwreck I suffer in these
lynes o' mine--that they do not! And what was this young widow lady's
maiden name, then, hostler? Folk have been peeping after her, that's
true; but they don't seem to know much about her family.'
'And while I've tended horses fifty year that other folk might straddle
'em, here I be now not a penny the better! Often-times, when I see so
many good things about, I feel inclined to help myself in common
justice to my pocket.
"Work hard and be poor, Do nothing and get more."
But I draw in the horns of my mind and think to myself, "Forbear, John
Hostler, forbear!"--Her maiden name? Faith, I don't know the woman's
maiden name, though she said to me, "Good evening, John;" but I had
no memory of ever seeing her afore--no, no more than the dead inside
church-hatch--where I shall soon be likewise--I had not. "Ay, my

nabs," I think to myself, "more know Tom Fool than Tom Fool
knows."'
'More know Tom Fool--what rambling old canticle is it you say,
hostler?' inquired the milkman, lifting his ear. 'Let's have it again--a
good saying well spit out is a Christmas fire to my withered heart.
More know Tom Fool--'
'Than Tom Fool knows,' said the hostler.
'Ah! That's the very feeling I've feeled over and over again, hostler, but
not in such gifted language. 'Tis a thought I've had in me for years, and
never could lick into shape!--O-ho-ho-ho! Splendid! Say it again,
hostler, say it again! To hear my own poor notion that had no name
brought into form like that--I wouldn't ha' lost it for the world! More
know Tom Fool than--than--h-ho-ho-ho- ho!'
'Don't let your sense o' vitness break out in such uproar, for heaven's
sake, or folk will surely think you've been laughing at the lady and
gentleman. Well, here's at it again--Night t'ee, Michael.' And the hostler
went on with his sweeping.
'Night t'ee, hostler, I must move too,' said the milkman, shouldering his
yoke, and walking off; and there reached the inn in a gradual
diminuendo, as he receded up the street, shaking his head convulsively,
'More know--Tom Fool--than Tom Fool--ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!'
The 'Red Lion,' as the inn or hotel was called which of late years had
become the fashion among tourists, because of the absence from its
precincts of all that was fashionable and new, stood near the middle of
the town, and formed a corner where in winter the winds whistled and
assembled their forces previous to plunging helter- skelter along the
streets. In summer it was a fresh and pleasant spot, convenient for such
quiet characters as sojourned there to study the geology and beautiful
natural features of the country round.
The lady whose appearance had asserted a difference between herself
and the Anglebury people, without too clearly showing what that

difference was,