The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1887-06-25 00:00:00

THE STOURBRIDGE OBSERVER

The latter he certainly was not, unless he was a gen-
tleman whose education had been so extremely limited
that reading and writing had not been included in its
branches, for he was utterly illiterate.
He had learned to read since his arrival at the ferry,
but be could not write beyond the formation of a few
letters, though he was mightily learned in all signs
and portents of nature, and he was as well acquainted
with the language of birds and animals as they were
themselves. He could wile the birds from the trees
oy imitating their notes, and call the timid creatures
out of the holes and burrows by mimicking the voices
of their young. He knew every herb that grew and
every tree that casts its shadow on the grass; and he
was cunning with his hands in the manufacture of
baskets, boxes, and all sorts of pretty things, out of
bits of stick and bark and morsels that most people
would pass by as useless.
Barney had had a customer before the carriage-load
of quality, as he called the party that were coming—
s cheery elderly gentleman who had asked him
whether they had gone across, and talked to him
kindly about himself and his pursuits, and had bought
a rustic basket fult of wild flowers, and had taken it
with him into the woods.
'They haven't gone, you say?' the gentlemen said.
'No, sir, they haven't gone—the ladies and the
arson, you mean?'
'They have a clergyman with them?'
Yes, the Rev. Mr. Gayford.'
You know him, then?'
Oh yes, I know him.'
• You don't speak as if you had much respect for
the Church, my friend.'
For the Church I have, sir. That is, I have my
own notions, though I am an ignorant chap, and
seldom go there. I can't say as I particularly respect
the parson.'
.Any parson, or this particular one?'
'I don't know many, sir. They wouldn't care to
know me, perhaps. I mean this one that the ladies
run after so—l don't respect him, not that much!'
And Barney snapped his fingers with an air that
was unmistakable, and changed the subject.
I must not ask why, I suppose. The gentleman is
a friend of—well—of more young people than I
could mention, and I don't like to hear of his being
disliked.'

'Then the sooner all of 'em quarrel with him the
better for them,' was all Barney would say. They
don't see him out of the ranks as I do sometimes,
master.'

Out of the ranks!' Then Barney bad been a soldier
after all. The gentleman smiled to himself as he re-
called the many stories he had heard of Barney's
origin. The soldier-tale had been most likely the
correct one, though the frank, honest face that was
ashamed to look no man back again was hardly the
face of a man who had suffered the deepest degrada-
tion that could befall him in the army.
The party came presently, all lively and bright, and
Barney touched his hat with much respect to the
ladies and Frank, recognising the Rev. Horace Gayford
with the smallest possible nod.

Good day, Barney,' said that gentleman.
'Good day, parson,' was the short response.
You are hardly polite, my man,' Mr. Gaylord
said. _ _ _

'I have no call to be, that I know of, to you,' was
the answer, as the ladies passed on towards the boat,
attended by the servant.
For an instant the two men, so different, and yet
with a wonderful resemblance between them in height,
complexion, and also feature, stood looking at each
other, and Mr. Gayford said very quietly,
'What do you mean by insulting me?'
Is it an insult?'
• I call it so.'
'I said I had no call to be polite to you. It is the
truth.'

'And why, sir?' Have I ever done anything to lose
the rcspect that a man in your position should feel
for one in mine?'

I was in the wood last Wednesday evening, about
seven o'clock, parson, that was all,' Barney said; just
on the other side of Girton's Hole, over there. I could
have made mischief for you in the town yonder if I
chose, but I didn't.; I held my tongue. Only don't
ask me for my respect again; it won't do, you know.'
Horace Gayford looked as if he should like to
annihilate the boatman where he stood; but he set
his I ps and. said nothing for a moment.'

The ladies are waiting for me,' ha said, after a
pause, I shall see you again, Barney, and '
And buy a basket of me, I shouldn't wonder, and
go into the pulpit and talk about the wages of sin,
and what becomes of everyone who does what he
oughtn't to in this world. It's all the same to me;
but, I say, parson-'
Well, I must go; see, they are beckoning me.'

,
'There must be no talk Of doing away- with the
ferry and getting rid of Barney Grubb. You set that
scheme afloat. Stamp it out, or the town might
chance to hear of '

He flung his hand out, as it we re, to the opposite
side; and Horace Gayford, feeling extremely uncom-
fortable, went to the bank, with a smile on his face,
and apologised to his friends for his slight delay.
'Barney Grubb is an odd fellow,' he said. I never
meet him but he has something fresh to tell me.
You looked rather black over this particular piece of
information, any way,' Frank said. 'Your face looked
about as pleasant as if the Wizard of the Ferry was
raising the old gentleman for your special behoof.'
'My dear Frank, do remember where you are, and
who you are with. You do say such very extra-
ordinary things.'
'Oh, the ladies don't mind,' Frank declared; and
indeed it seemed as if they didn't, for they only
laughed and watched Barney's strong arms as he put
them over the water. '

She's a pretty creature,' mused that gentleman to
hitnsetr, apostrophising Helen; 4 and he's the making
of a fine man. And so they was married like when
they was babies, and are never to like any one else in
the world. It won't work; it won't, as sure as my
name's Barney Grubb. That fair-haired girl is more
in the lad's style; and as for her—well; I'm a Dutch-
man if there isn't some one else. It isn't the parson ;
she's afraid of him, I can see it in her eyes. And he—
well, well—wait a bit, Barney; and if there isn't as
pretty a nest of vipers hatched out of this business as
ever stung anyone, I've no eyes, and can't see, that's
all.'

Helen rather admired her boatman, and stem] at
him without being conscious that she was the object
of his musings. Her thoughts wandered as they were
crcss'ng the river, and went a roaming to Cuthbnrt
Ingram, who had gone away all for her sake, and was
never coming back to England any more. He had
never told her he loved her, but she knew it; and she
—well she was not free to choose, of course—there
could never be any question of her loving anyone
except the one who had been chosen for her by her
dead father; and here was the other side of the river,
and she was going to enjoy herself very much indeed,
and, joy ful surprise, here was Mr. Jarvis amongst the
trees looking very much as if he had come Uwe on
purpose to join their pic-nic.

(To be continued)