The Dorset County Express and Agricultural Gazette.
Dorchester, Dorset, England, 1862-07-22 00:00:00

LITERARY r4xI:RACTS.

The following is an extract from the Tide entillad
" Contrast ; or the Oak and the Bramble," to Which the
first prise of £250 has been awarded by Lord Brougham,
Matthew Dawn-mod Hill, Esq., and john Cassell, Esq.,
and which is now published in Cassell's Illastrated
Family Paper

_
Tile morrow, of which we left Henry Carely dreaming,
had, as we have already eeen, now arrived; and if it
did net bring with it to him the splendours of that
gorgeous palace which bad become but the baseless
fabric of a vision, it yet realized many of the feelings
born of its anticipation. For as, a few hours after the
close of our last chapter, he conducted Annie through
the little room which was so soon to call her mistress,
and as she beheld the change his lore had wrought in
it aiuce she had seen it ;as she marked bow
thoughtfully lie bad devised for her comfort, how care-
fully he bad studied her taste, and how he bad tree-
anted up and acted upon the lightest words which from
time to time bad fallen from her lips, indicating her
wishes for the future ; as she marked all this, what
wonder that her eye sparkled, that her cheek glowed,
that her tongue grew eloquent in its gratitude •' and
that he again felt the uneasy fulness of the heart be
had experienced in his dream, as he listened to the
magic which all hearts love best—the words that
show us how fully our feelings are understood and reci-
procated by those we hold most dear.
But, as /doom has prettily told us, there is no day
so tranquil, but a alight breeze will sometimes ruffle
the flowers ; and, in this instance, the aerial visitant
took the substiintial form of a leg of mutton. This on-
poetical but highly useful object was souiewhat ostenta-
tiously displayed in the little larder ; aid Carely, in
the fiances of his heart, was nothing loth to explain
how it came there.

"You know, Annie," said he, "I told you last night
what • kind-hearted fellow poor George Ringer is,
though he is a little unsteady sometimes; and herein •
proof of it. He knew I was going to be married ; and
has sent me this splendid leg of mutton, as • wedding
present. Is it not kind of him, now ?"
Annie's countenance fell; and the beautiful smile
which had lit up her face ever sinoe she had crossed the
threshold, gave place to an expression of mingled
anxiety and mournfulness. • "Kindly meant," she
said, and it seems so hard, so ungrateful in me to say
one word to hurt your feeling' just now, and with all
these proofs of your love round me! But oh, how I
wish I had never come I"
"Why, tny dear girl?' cried Carosly, with a laugh;
"what earthly horns can a fat leg of mutton do us?'
"None in itself, perhaps, Henry; but it seems so
unkind to go on, and yet I cannot keep silence. You
know you promised me to give him up."
" Yes,yes; and I mean to do so, of course," answered
Cady, a little impatiently.
"Then—pardon me, dear Henry; but just think for
• moment—ought you to receive his presents ?"
"Really, Annie, you are getting over-nice," said
Catchy; this time, not • little impatiently. "There is
but one good reason why I should refuse, and that is,
because it is had times with him. But I know why he
sent it; it is because I gave him a trifle and he wishes
to be grateful. I would not hurt his feelings by refusing
it: but I shall take care he does not lose by it, poor
fellow."

Annie's colour went and came. "I must speak out,"
she said, at length, with a great effort; " I—l am
afraid this is not honestly come by."
"Annie !" cried Carely, in a tone of deep reproach,
"your over-nicety is making you unjust. Poor Ringer
has many faults, and I wish they were mended; but he
is no thief."
"Look here," said Annie; and taking up the joint,
though with a trembling hand, she directed the unwil-
ling eye of the listener to several irregularities in its
surface, which did not look altogether secundon artess
"Depend upon it, Henry," she added, solemnly, "no
butcher's knife ever cut this from the sheep."
"The very thing !" cried a loud, clear voice behind;
and, as they bath started at the sound, two policemen
advanced into the room. "Hope we don't intrude,"
said the foremost," but your door stood invitingly open.
Don't be frightened," he added, as he marked the
deathly paleness which overspread the countenance of
Annie: nothing will come of it, perhaps—only we pro-
fessionals must do our duty, you know; and we happen
to be in chase after what I think will turn out to be
this identical leg of mutton. As you say, very properly,
young lady, this is no butcher's work: an apprentice in
his second year would be ashamed of it, Do you recol-
lect what shop you bought it at, Mr. Carely!"
"I did not buy it at all," answered Gately, without
hesitation ; "it was a present."
"If it is not being too impertinent," pursued the
officer, "may I ask who sent it.
" Oh, yes, certainly; George Ringer."
The officials exchanged glances,. "When did you see
Ringer lut?" penned the interrogator.
"Last night, on the bridge, at about dusk. Why do
you ask me all these questions?" said Carely in a tone
of surprise.
"Oh, I have reasons as hisses plums," continued the
officer. Don't you think you saw him later than.that?
Recollect now.'

" I have no occasion to recollect at all. lam positive
I did not."

" Wu not you out with him last night, just for a stroll,
eh?"

"Certainly not. I have not seen him since the hour
I told you."
. . _

•` vras with me after he left him," cried Annie,
eagerly; I saw Ringer go over the bridge as I came
up."
"But excuse, me," said the officer, with some respect
in his tone; "he was not with you very late, I sup-
P°?.° 7 . • • • • •

•
"Oh, yes, alrsost till ten o'clock," replied Annie, with
simplicity; " and then I know he went straight
home."

"Not very straight, I am afraid," said the officer,
drily; "for it seems he did not get there during the
whole night."
"No," replied Carely; I was here. When I told Miss
Browning I was going home, it was this home I meant.
I was busy getting it ready: it took longer than I
expected; and I passed the night here in • chair."
Can you produce anybody who saw you either come
In or g• out?"
" My word ought tube enough, I think," said Carely,
a little proudly; but if you want other evidence, I
certainly have none. I let myself in with the key,
and there was no one stirring when I went out."
"Oh, Henry—Henry! Ruined by your own kind-
ness ; and for me, to.!" cried- AUDIO ; and with a wild
burst of grief she milk down°. the nearest chair.
"What does all this mean ?" cried Carely, with some
asperity. "By what authority do you come here and
question me in this manner, and terrify her who is all
but my wife? Look up, Annie I Do not be alarmed.
On my honour there in no cause for it."
"I hope not, really," replied the officer; "but I am
bound to tell you that it is an ugly business. You see,
Fanner Hopkins was robbed of • sheep last night, and his
rpeopleegostw tolr IL were ron
safe
enough,
in.
mils fields.
one
eWies
George Ringer. We found the sheep in his very house,
all but one leg; and lam afraid—l would not say all
this, but I respect you, eiirely—l ant afraid this will
turn out to be the very joint that in wanted to complete
the carcase. Now, you confess you had it from him;
you did not sleep at home hull night: and though you
say you slept here, you do not seem to think you can
I bring anybody to prove it. If you really can't, I don't
think you will get • jury to believe that you are not the
second man."

" I • thief! • sheep-stealer I" cried the astonished
Carely ; "I, who never defrauded a human being of a
penny!'
"lam sure I hope it will turn out to be all right,"
said the officer, in • kind tone; "for I know you have
carried a good name. But many • fine fellow before
you has been ruined by bad company. However, this
is not my business. Indeed, I have no right to ask all
these questions. What I have to do is simple enough,
though not over-pleasant. You must come along with
me."

"With you! Where?'
"Balers the magistrates; and I don't want to make
you down-hearted, but, from what I see of the case,
try belief is that you will have to stand your trial at
the assizes." _ _

The °loads of life are as numerous and as heavy as
those which sometimes hide the sun or the stars is
the heavens; and they often rise so suddenly, that not
even the little aloud like a man's hand preludes the
gathering of the tempest; but the bolt which scathes
and destroys seems to burst from the very sunbeam, or
flash from the twinkle of a star. Here, almost in sa
instant, smiling enjoyment and rapturous anticipation
had been converted into a present of horror and agony,
and a future of gloom and dread.
Conscience of innocence bad caused the first emotions
of earely to be those of honest Indignation; and his
thought' had even glanced at resist/woe. But an
instant's reelootlon lad sborp hi tla ha4itY of grim

feelings, the unfortunate combination of a number of
telling circutnatances in his disfavour, end the absolute
necessity of calling up all his energies and resources to
meet the exigency. Overwhelmed by these considers•
tions, be, in his turn, sank powerlessly into a chair,
and rather groaned than uttered, 'Oh, Annie, Annie !
What have I not brought upon you V'
And here the love of woman shone out in all Its pare
and holy beauty ; showing how easily, under the
influence of high and ennobling feelings, the weak can
become the strong. Annie Browning rose from her
scat with calmness ; there was almost a dignity in her
step acroas the little room. There was no blush of
shame at the presence of strangers as she pressed her
pure lip to the clammy flrehead of her betrothed; and
her voice was firm and unfaltering as she said, "Fear
not, dear Henry! Heaven will protect us both."