The Poacher | Page 2

about it; and, as I stand here, never even heard the
word before."
"Perhaps not: the residuum is, you see, Byres, what is left."
"If that's residgium, I didn't mean to say a word about it; there was none
left, for you drained the pot."
"Good, Byres; you have never been to college, that's clear. Now,
observe, when a man pours down into his stomach a certain quantity of

liquor, the spirituous or lighter part ascends to his head, and that makes
his head heavy. Do you understand?"
"No; what's light can't make things heavy."
"Can't it?--you know nothing about the matter. Have you not a proof
before you?" replied the schoolmaster, reeling, and catching hold of the
parapet for support; "look at that unfortunate man, who has yielded to
excess."
"Very true; I see that he's drunk, but I want to know how it is that he
got drunk?"
"By drinking."
"That I knew before."
"Then why ask any more questions? Had we not better proceed, and
take him home to his expectant and unhappy wife? 'Tis a sad, sad thing,
that a man should `put an enemy into his mouth to steal away his
brains.'"
"Half a pint will do that with Rushbrook," replied the pedlar; "they say
that he was wounded on his head, and that half his brains are gone
already, and that's why he has a pension."
"Yes, seventeen pounds a year; paid quarterly, without deduction, and
only to walk four miles to get it," replied Furness; "yet how misplaced
is the liberality on the part of the government. Does he work? No; he
does nothing but drink and lie in bed all day, while I must be up early
and remain late, teaching the young idea at twopence per week. Friend
Byres, `mercy is not itself which oft looks so.' Now, it is my opinion
that it would be a kindness to this poor wretch if we were to toss him,
as he now is, over the bridge into the rushing stream; it would end all
his troubles."
"And save us the trouble of getting him home," replied Byres, who
determined to humour his more inebriated companion. "Well, Mr

Furness, I've no objection. Why should he live? Is he not a
sinecurist--one of the locusts who fatten on the sweat and blood of the
people, as the Sunday paper says? Don't you remember my reading it
this morning?"
"Very true, Master Byres."
"What d'ye say, then?--shall we over with him?"
"We must think a little," replied the schoolmaster, who put his hand up
to his chin, and remained silent for a minute or two. "No," resumed he,
at last; "on second thoughts I cannot do it. He halves his beer with me.
No pension--no beer; that's a self-evident proposition and conclusion. It
were ingratitude on my part, and I cannot consent to your proposal,"
continued the schoolmaster; "nay, more, I will defend him against your
murderous intentions to the very last."
"Why, Master Furness, you must be somewhat the worse for liquor
yourself: it was your proposal to throw him over the bridge, not mine."
"Take care what you say," replied the schoolmaster; "would you accuse
me of murder, or intent to murder?"
"No, not by no means--only you proposed heaving him over the bridge:
I will say that."
"Friend Byres, it's my opinion you'll say anything but your prayers; but
in your present state I overlook it. Let us go on, or I shall have two men
to carry home instead of one. Come, now, take one of his arms, while I
take the other, and raise him up. It is but a quarter of a mile to the
cottage."
Byres, who, as we observed, was by far the more sober of the two, did
not think it worth his while to reply to the pedagogue. After a few
staggers on the part of the latter, their comrade was raised up and led
away between them.
The drunken man appeared to be so far aware of what was going on

that he moved his legs mechanically, and in a short time they arrived at
the cottage-door, which the pedagogue struck with his fist so as to
make it rattle on its hinges. The door was opened by a tall, handsome
woman, holding a candle in her hand.
"I thought so," said she, shaking her head. "The old story: now he will
be ill all night, and not get up till noon."
"What a weary life it is with a drunken husband. Bring him and thank
you kindly for your trouble."
"It has been hard work and hot work," observed the schoolmaster,
sitting down in a chair, after they had placed their comrade on the bed.
"Indeed, and it must be," replied the wife. "Will you have