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being resolved to earn an honest livelihood," he had been travelling about the country with a cart of crockery—that he had been doing pretty well until the day before, when his horse had dropped down dead near Chatham, in Kent—that this had reduced him to the unpleasant necessity of getting into the shafts himself, and drawing the cart of crockery to London—a somewhat exhausting pull of thirty miles 2—that he did not venture to ask again for money, but that if I would have the goodness to leave him out a donkey, he would call for the animal 4 before breakfast.
A little while afterwards he wrote me a few broken-hearted lines, informing me that the dear partner of his sorrow died in his arms last night 5 at nine o'clock. I despatched a trusty messenger to comfort the bereaved mourner6 and his poor children ; but the messenger went so soon that the play was not ready to be played out?; my friend was not at home, and his wife was in a most delightful state of health.
Next day came to me a friend of mine, the governor of a large prison, who said : “I know all about him and his frauds.9 He lodged in the house of one of my warders at the very time when he first wrote to you ; and then he was eating spring lamb at eighteenpence a pound, and early asparagus 10 at I don't know how much a bundle! Apparent misery is always part of 11 his trade, and real misery very often is, in the intervals of spring lamb and early asparagus. It is naturally an incident of his dissipated and dishonest life.”
1 To earn an honest livelihood, De gagner honnêtement sa vie.—2 A somewhat exhausting pull of thirty miles, Coup de collier de trente milles quelque peu fatigant. _3 To leave him out a donkey, De mettre un âne à sa disposition.—4 He would call for the animal, Il viendrait chercher la bête.-5 Last night, La nuit précédente. 6 Bereaved mourner, Mari désolé.—7 That the play was not ready to be played out, Qu'on n'avait pas encore distribué les rôles pour la comédie. -8 See § 23.-9 I know all about him and his frauds, Je le connais sur le bout du doigt, lui et ses manæuvres.—10 Early asparagus, Asperges nouvelles._11 Is always part of, Fait toujours partie de.
LITTLE EPPIE'S MISCHIEF. Silas had chosen a broad strip of linen as a means of fastening little Eppie to his loom when he was busy : it made a broad belt round her waist, and was long enough to allow of her reaching the truckle-bed and sitting down on it, but not long enough for her to attempt any dangerous climbing. One bright summer's morning, the weaver had been more engrossed than usual in “ setting up”a new piece of work,2 an occasion on which his scissors were in requisition. These scissors had been kept carefully out of Eppie's reach ; but the click of them had a peculiar attraction for her ear, and, watching the results of that click, she had derived the philosophic lesson that 3 the same cause would produce the same effect. Silas had seated himself in his loom, and the noise of the weaving had began, but he had left his scissors on a ledge4 which Eppie's arm was long enough to reach ; and now, like a small mouse watching her opportunity, she stole quietly from her corner, secured the scissors, and toddled to the bed again, setting her back as a mode of concealing the fact. She had distinct intention as to the use of the scissors; and having cut the linen strip in a jagged, but effectual manner, in two moments she ran out at the open door where the sunshine was inviting her, while poor Silas believed her to be a better child than usual.5
It was not until he happened to need 6 his scissors that the terrible fact burst upon him: Eppie had run out by herself—had perhaps fallen into the stone-pit. Silas, shaken by the worst fear that could have befallen him, rushed out calling “Eppie!” and rail eagerly about the unenclosed space, exploring the dry cavities into which she might have fallen, and then gazing with questioningdread? at the smooth surface of the water. The cold drops stood on his brow. How long had she been out? There was one hope, that ? she had crept through the stile and got into the fields where he habitually took her to stroll. But the grass was high in the meadow, and there was no descrying her,3 if she were there, except by a close search that would be a trespass on Mr Osgood's crop. Still the misdemeanour must be committed, and poor Silas, after peering all round the hedgerows, traversed the grass, beginning with perturbed vision to see 4 Eppie behind every group of red sorrel, and to see her moving always farther off as he approached. The meadow was searched in vain ; and he got over the stile into the neat field, looking with dying hope towards a small pond which was now reduced to summer shallowness, so as to leave a wide margin 5 of good adhesive mud. Here, however, sat Eppie, discoursing cheerfully to her own small boot, which she was using as a bucket to convey the water into a deep hoof-mark, while her naked foot was planted comfortably on a cushion of olive-green mud. A red-headed calf was observing her with alarmed doubt through the opposite hedge.
1 For her to attempt any dangerous climbing, Pour lui permettre de grimper dans des endroits dangereux.—2 In setting up a new piece of work, À monter une nouvelle piece d'étoife. _3 She had derived the philosophic lesson that, Elle en avait tiré cette conséquence philosophique, que.—4 On a ledge, Sur une tablette.-5 A better child than usual, Bien plus sage qu'à l'ordinaire.—6 It was not until he happened to need, Ce ne fut que lorsqu'il eut besoin de.—7 Gazing with questioning dread, Interrogent d'un regard effrayé.
Here was clearly a case of aberration in a child which demanded severe treatment, but Silas, overcome with convulsive joy at finding his treasure again, could do nothing but snatch her up and cover her with half-sobbing kisses. It was not until he had carried her home, and had begun to think of the necessary washing that he recollected the need that he should punish Eppie, and “make her remember.” The idea that she might run away again and come to harm,6 gave him unusual resolution, and for the first time he determined to try the coal-hole, a small closet near the hearth. “Naughty, naughty Epppie,” he suddenly began, holding her on his knee, and pointing to her muddy feet and clothes, “Naughty to cut with scissors and run away. Eppie must go into the coal-hole for being naughty. Daddy must put her in the coal-hole.”
1 The cold drops stood on his brow, Une sueur froide couvrait son front.—2 There was one hope, that, Il restait une espérance, c'était que.—3 There was no descrying her, Il n'y avait rien qui pût la faire distinguer.-4 Beginning with perturbed vision to see, Croyant d'abord, dans son trouble, voir.-5 Which was reduced to its summer shallowness, so as to leave a wide margin, Dont l'été diminuait la profondeur en laissant un large bordure.—6 And come to harm, Et qu'il pourrait lui arriver du mal. 1 That this would be shock enough, Que cela ferait une impression suffisante.2 Opened o pleasing novelty, Lui offrait la perspective d'un nouvel amusement.3 Proceed to extremities, En venir aux extrémités.—4 With a trembling sense that he was, En tremblant d'avoir.-5 This total failure of the coal-hole discipline shooke Silas's belief in its efficacy, L'emploi du trou à charbon ayant ainsi manqué complétement son effet, la confiance de Silas dans l'efficacité de cette punition se trouva fort ébranlée.
He half expected that this would be shock enough, and that Eppie would begin to cry. But instead of that, she began to shake herself on his knee, as if the proposition opened a pleasing novelty. Seeing that he must proceed to extremities,3 he put her into the coal-hole, and held the door closed, with a trembling sense that he was 4 using a strong measure. For a moment there was silence, but then came a little cry, “ Opy, opy,” and Silas let her out again, saying, “Now Eppie will never be naughty again, else she must go in the coal-hole-a black, naughty place.” The weaving must stand still a long while this morning, for now Eppie must be washed and have clean clothes on ; but it was to be hoped that this punishment would have a lasting effect, and save time in future—though, perhaps, it would have been better if Eppie had cried more.
In half-an-hour she was clean again, and, Silas having turned his back to see what he could do with the linen band, threw it down again, with the reflection that Eppie would be good without fastening for the rest of the morning, he turned round again, and was going to place her in her little chair near the loom, when she peeped out at him with black face and hands again, and said, 6 Eppie in de toal-hole.” This total failure of the coal-hole discipline shook Silas's belief in its efficacy.5 “She takes it all for fun,” he observed to himself.
So Eppie was reared without punishment, the burden of her misdeeds being borne vicariously by father Silas.
G. ELIOT. (SILAS MARNER.)
CASE OF LORD MANSFIELD'S WIG. This was a case which, by the parties concerned, was considered of no small importance, and which, to the auditors,2 in the course of its discussion, excited no small merriment. Mr Williams, who is what is vulgarly called a barber, but in more refined language is termed perruquier, appeared in the court a few days back, and obtained a summons against the defendant,4 Mr Laurence, who is clerk to Reeves, an attorney 5 in Tottenham Court Road, calling upon him to attend on a given day, to show cause why he should not pay a debt of thirty-nine shillings and elevenpence three farthings.
Mr Williams, who spoke with a sort of lisping squeak,6 garrulously addressed the Commissioner? :-“He had (he said) been a hairdresser for sixty-eight years. He had served his time 8 in the Temple, where he had had the honour of making wigs for some of the greatest men as ever lived-of all professions and of all ranks—judges, barristers, and commoners—churchmen as well as laymen-illiterate men as well as literate men, and, among the latter, he had to rank the immortal Dr Johnson ; but of all the wigs he had ever set comb to, there was none on which he so prided himself as a full State wig9 which he had made for Lord Mansfield. It was one of the earliest proofs of his genius; it had excited the warm commendations of his master, and the envy of his shopmates ; but, above all, it had pleased and even delighted the noble and learned judge himself.”—“Oh, gemmen !” exclaimed Mr Williams, “ if you had known what joy I felt when I first saw his noble Lordship on the bench with that wig on his head !”—(In an under-tone, but rubbing his hands with ecstacy) —“Upon my say-so, I was fuddled for three days after !”
The Commissioner. What has the wig to do with the defendant's debt?
The parties concerned, Les parties intéressées.—2 The auditors, L'audience. 3 Is termed perruquier, Est appelé perruquier.—4 The defendant, Le défendeur.5 Attorney, Procureur.–6 Lisping squeak, Grasseyement.—7 Commissioner, Jugecommissaire.-_8 He had served his time, Il avait fait son apprentissage._9 A full State wig, Une perruque de cérémonie.