Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 386: what you’re looking at

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

—__ ' were swelling into my throat. aol — —SW@ JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. —the tutal absence of any who could love me or te beloved by me! T paused ata gate opening into that field: the sun was shining brightly, although it was the be- ginning of December; and all of a sudden I beheld a troop of happy laughing bors rushing into the meadow. Oh! now how vividly did old times come back to my memory! It seemed as if I were a schoolboy once again—as if all that had passed during the interval of a few years were naught but a dream! And again were the tears trinkling down my cheeks,—thus affording a vent for the emotions of my surcharged heart. I ad- vanced towards the school: a baker’s cart was standing at the gate—that very gate where Mr. Jukes had received me into his own cart on the day that I left the school, A buxom-looking woman-servant, of about twenty-seven, was now receiving the quantities of bread which the baker was delivering: but upon perceiving me, she came forward and respectfully inquired if I+ wished to speak to her master or mistress ? “ No,” I said,— not immediately. Finish what you have to do.” The young woman looked at me for a moment, as if she thought there was something strange in my manner; and she went on with her task of receiving the loaves and conveying them into the house. I stood by, watching the proceeding with a sort of childish interest, and with feelings that continued to be deeply affected: for how often and often during the years I was at school there, had I beheld the same process—that delivery of the numerous loaves for the consumption of the scholars! At length the task was accomplished: the baker drove away with his cart; and the woman-servant remained standing at the gate, in the evident expectation that I should now commu- nicate whatsoever business it was that brought me thither. “Who keeps this school now ?” I inquired. * Mr. and Mrs. Matthewson, sir,” answered the female-servant. “ Have they had it long ?”’ “Five or six years, sir. They took it some little while after Mrs. Nelson gave it up at her husband’s death—and then I came back into ser- vice here z “ What!” I exclaimed: “then you were at this school at the time of the Nelsons ?” “ Yes, sir,” replied the domestic. know the school ?” “Yes,” I rejoined: and gradually did the recol- lection of the woman’s features come back into my mind, although they had been altered by the lapse of years, and her form from a more graceful slen- derness had expanded into the buxom embonpoint which if now possessed, ‘I was once a pupil here,” I continued: “it was in the Nelsons’ time.” “ Indeed, sir!” said the female, staring at me fixedly, but evidently without recognising me. “Let me ask you one or two questions,” I said, with difficulty keeping down the emotions that * Do you recollect “ But did you a certain Joseph Wilmot ?” “Oh, dear me! that I do, sir!” cried the woman. “A sweeter and a nicer boy there never was! He used to be called ‘ Pretty Joe,’ because he had such beautiful teeth, such fine hair, and such a slim genteel figure; and he always used to rt gn re a cm ew eee we eee keep himself so neat and clean. Ah, poor boy! well do I remember the day he left 2 “And you wept on that occasion—you wept,” I said, “as you bade him good bye—and— and se But here I stopped short: for the tears were raining down my cheeks at the tide of reminis- cences which surged up into my brain. The ser- vant looked at me in astonishment: then a light appeared to flash in unto her memory; and as tears trickled down her own cheeks, she said, “Oh! sir, is it possible? Are—are—you y “Yes, my good woman,” I replied; “‘ I am that same Joseph Wilmot for whom you wept tears of sympathy.” “T have often thought of you, sir,’ said the good creature, deeply affected. “I wondered what had become of you—I heard something from Mr. Jukes at the time which made me very sad 44 “You heard,” I interrupted her, “ that it was intended to consign me to the workouse: but I fled from the door of that hideous place 4 At this moment a short, stout, elderly gentle- man, dressed in black, with knee-breeches and: gaiters, and having altogether an old-fashioned look, came forth from the school. “Oh, Mr. Mathewson, sir!” exclaimed the ser- vant, running towards him: “ here is a young gen- tleman who was brought up in this place in the time of Mr. and Mrs. Nelson! It is that very same Joseph Wilmot I have so often told you and mistress of 4 “Indeed! Joseph Wilmot?” ejaculated Mr. Mathewson. ‘‘ Why, what was I reading about just now in the local paper? Ah, I recollect !”’— and taking off his hat, the schoolmaster made me a profound bow,—saying, “ My lord, I am highly flattered But here is Mrs. Mathewson! Mrs. Mathewson, my dear, you will be astonished ! This is Lord Eccleston who has condescended to pay us a visit.” The wife—a portly good-humoured dame, with a very red face—bustled forward and bade me wel- come. Nothing could exceed the surprise—the utter bewilderment, in short, of the servant-woman on thus learning my present rank, the announce- ment of which I had not entertained the slightest intention of making. The Mathewsons invited me to walk in; and I at once complied with their request. I went all over the house: need I repeat that phrase which during the last few pages of my narrative I have so often had to place on record— that my emotions swelled strongly within me! I went into the school-room: I sate myself down in the very place where, as a forlorn and friendless boy, I was wont to sit when a scholar there; and I wept now at the recollection of the weepings in which I had so frequentiy been immersed at the time over which I was thus retrospecting! I went up into the bed-room whete I had slept. There was the corner in which my pallet had stood: there was the spot where at night I had s0 often and often lain awake, wondering and weeping be- cause I felt myself to be friendless and neglected! Oh, what scalding tears had I shed in that very room where I had slept alone during the vacations, when all the other boys were gone full of glee to their happy homes—and I the only one who was left behind! ee 6 O_o te en ree Se tt ee ; a i re. . . ElO@OO) CS (SO)