The Sun.
London, England, 1854-08-12 00:00:00

BY ELIZA COOK.

One June morning last summer we took it into our
head to run a few miles out towards the west of Loa-
doe, arel•shake hands once again with the kind and
worthy Mrs. Andrews, who is the proprietress of an ex-
tensive market-garden, and who, a couple of years since,
accepted us as a favoured lodger under her hospitable
roof. We were never so comfortable in lodgings as we
were at 'Western Grange. We met with the desired tem-
porary home through mere accident, and was smitten by
it at first sight. Fine ladies and gentlemen might prce
bably look askance at the old-fashioned gables, warped
timbers, picturesque barns, and slightly deformed
" lean-to's,' which met the eye as we approached the
residence by the way of a grass grown bit of lane. On
nearer inspection the low ceilings and easement windows
might be objected to ; and those who desired Brussels
carpets, candelabras, and marble wash-stands, might feel
themselves "taken in, and resent the disappointment
accordingly ; but we, in pursuit of retirement, comfort,
and homeliness, and being accustomed in our early read-
ing of the Book of Life, to peruse the edition without
illustrations by " Chalons,"took an immensf fancy to the
"snuggery" of a sitting-room, and thought the antique
walnut-tree sideboard, with sofa and chairs to match,
the cheerful red drugget, the bunches of lavender and
preserved grasses in ancient vases, the huge punchbowls
and Noah's-ark sort of corner cupboard, very pleasant
and endurable sort of things to associate with. Then
the bedroom smelt so fresh and sweet, with its curtains
and counterpane of Mont Blanc whiteness. We liked
the quaint chest of drawers, grandfather-looking arm-
chairs, and open window ; through which the rich green
ivy thrust itself and intruded on the toilet cover, where
it laid in gl issy luxuriance, like a casket of scattered
emeralds. Supposing we did put up with a washing
trough in lieu of a bath, and admitting that ring stands,
scent-bottles, and pornatuni-glasses might be wanting,
nevertheless we contrived to be satisfied, and held the
simple dormitory in veneration and esteem. Then the
wide front door was always open, and it had hops and
woodbine about it; and out of that door we stepped over
a yard or two of gravel path on to a grassplot, and
round about the grassplot there were multifarious beds
of " painted ladies," hen and chicken daisies, double
rockets, brazen marygolds, modest moss-roses, florid
sweet williams, and a dazzling kaleidescope of June
flowers. There might be a gap or two in the box-edg-
ing, and a bit of vulgar dock might be seen pushing it-
self between the pink larkspur.; ; perhaps an unknown
weed dared to jostle the well known prince's feathers,
and au audacious old hen might be sometimes seen
scratching a bed for herself in the very heart of the Torn
Thumb geraniums ; but the blossoms were very lovely
for all that, and we gave up a Chiswick show to stay
among them. Then there was an arbour—such an arbour
—all fir-trees and ivy, with a queer seat and a queerer
table, made of wooden knees and elbows, all crinkem-
crankem—neither figure nor fashion about them, but
still very cosey and romantic. A heavy shower cer-
tainly dripped through, and a spider or caterpillar
occAsionally looked in upon the inhabiting party ;
but accustomed as we were to the hydropathic system,
and having often been on familiar terms with " jolly
great what-do-you-call-ems," we managed to indite many
a line of dreamy nonsense in this sequestered nook, and
even entertained a notion that it was far preferable to
the Cockney and formal erections, which by rural cour-
tesy we are compelled to recognise as " bowers" and
" summer-houses." Then there came endless files of
apple, plum, cherry, and pear trees ; whole regiments
of gooseberry and currant bushes ; a perfect prairie of
strawberries ; with wide lands of beans, peas, cabbages,
and the whole essentials of Covent-garden vegetation.
We admired even the crazy old shed in the distar.ce,
where the sieves were Ricked, and the ploughs and
rollers housed. We thought the moss-mantled water-
cask, standing at its corner, a very poetic object, espe-
cially as " Dumpling" stood drinking his fill at it when
he returned from market. He was a dear, old, fusby
sort of a quadruped, looking like a magnified Shetland
pony, arid suggested the notion as he stood of being
merely an additional tub. We should not have quar-
relled even with what Cowper delicately denominates
"the stercoraceous heap," had it not been that dead
cabbage-leaves often emitted an odour which rendered
the windward side of the said heap desirable. Altogether
Western Grange suited our primitive taste ' • and when
we add that Mrs. Andrews was a well-bred and intelli-
gent woman, although sbe kept a market garden ; that
she had an amiable daughter and industrious son ; that ,
they all understood " Shakspere and the musical-glasses," ,
as well as the rearing of potatoes; and that we were al- .
most spoiled by their united kind attention, our readers
will not be astonished that we frequently conceive the ,
wish to renew the acquaintance, and have another peep
at Western Grange.
. . _ _

The visit we have alluded to was made in the height
of the strawberry season. The day was hot. Watering-
pots were pleasant things to see lying about, and the
shadow of a tree was an umbrageous blessing. - Both
windows of railway carriages were permitted to be open
without any mention of "a draught ;" and everybody
who dared to appear in the undress of "shirt sleeves"
did so with grateful freedom. We picked a quarrel
with our breakfast, abused the soft butter, and treated
the rasher of bacon with appetiteless indifference,—we
fear our state of temper was getting as sultry as the
weather, when we suddenly bethought of a run down to
our olden haunt. We effected the transit in double
quick time, and found ourselves up to our eyes in straw-
berries by noon.

We must now inform our readers that among the
regular " attackees" of Mrs. Andrews's out-door esta-
blishment were six women, known as Polly, Hetty,
Selina, Peggy, Martha, and Racbel,—and two men,
Dick, the carter and ploughman, and Harry, odd
in general. At some busy periods the close labour of
these individuals was of vital importance. A fair share
of idleness was tolerated at leisure intervals, fur IVlrs.
Andrews is by no means a slave-driver, and allows
a degree of Christian charity to exert itself toward
"all that are within her gates." We had become
tolerably well acquainted with these "helps,"
and found them, on the whole, to be decently conducted
persons. Perhaps Hetty, Martha, and Rachel might
not have gained the approbation of Mrs. Hannah More,
touching their minute system of morals and manners.
But Poly, Selina, and Peggy were considered to be very
respectable. The last mentioned was a demur, meek,
shy-looking young woman, who always answered a ques-
tion as though her tongue was made of white satin, and
the use of language would soil it. Polly was more
come-at-able, and had a dissipated husband and three
children to manage ; and Selina was considered to be
ogirls in the neigh-
bourhood.rneoftile
and was supposed to be saving .
dand
behaved
1)
Dr e itct e sv‘t• aasn elvneor known
(fir; orttuwwdnne toenyt c o m
Hart ar
y• nweaxs ensos
t
" a perfect Joseph," but he worked bar
well to his employers, which is more than we can say of
many prime ministers who serve a nation.
It so happened that the day of our visit preceded that
of the annual provincial races, which took place at a
little distance, and orders had been given by various
parties for a large quantity of strawberries to be deli-
vered as soon as possible. Mrs. Andrews was anxious
that the fruit should be got ready promptly, and in nice
condition ; and all hands were set to work at twelve
o'clock to pick, sort, " top up," and pack. We stood
among the strawberries, watching the labour with in-
terest, and learning something of the business ; wheu
the benevolence of one of our party suggested that a
trifle to each of the handmaidens of the vineyard would
not be ill bestowed. A small sum was accordingly dis-
tributed, and we returned to the house to partake of
luncheon. After an hour or two's gossip, we strolled
towards the field of pottles again, in company with Mrs.
Andrews and her son and daughter.
"Where are all the women ?" exclaimed Frank An-
drews ; " there has't been a strawberry picked since we
left. What are they after ?"
Sure enough not the trace of a woman or man either
was to be seen, and great wonder existed as to what had
become of them at such a time of necessity. Wo stood
some time in speculating perplexity, when, suddenly, at
the gate close by us, le ding into the village, there ap-
peared the form of Peggy, who opened the said gate
with a most unmistakeable air of energetic independence,
sluaimtemuinngneictebseshary to
indheerffwecitththaavtiopluerpntoflsoeu . oNofwst, re
rentlyi,
ci
always prided herself on her extreme quietness 'a'nd
modesty of demeanour and conduct, arid, strange.to say,
her attire was now as much out of order as her manners
She approached with a swinging walk, and it might be
observed that the handkerchief which usually wrapped
her neck and shoulders in a very Quaker-like style, was
extremely derive. Her bonnet was worn in the mathe-
matical fashion known as " nine bob square." Her
apron had dropped much lower than its wont, and her
gown was tucked much higher. Her hair, generally
arranged " a la Madonna," was now "d la anyhow."
Her face was singularly rich in complexion, and her eyes
stood out in very bold relief, considering their character
for down-cast diffidence.

" Well, Peggy," said Mrs. Andrews, as the lady
named nigh, " what is the meaning of this ? Why are
you not at work ? You know the fruit must be sent to-
night,"

Can't help it, marm," replied Peggy in a remark-
ably free and easy tone of volubility : " there's a new
beer-shop opened down the way, and the landlord's
treated us to some gin and fourpenny,' and the
butcher's give us some cider, and we've all got a bit of
money in our pockets, and Dick and Harry's with us,
and we want a julldeation, so we just moan to make a
day of it."

" And pray what is to be done about the straw-
berries ?" said Frank.

"Can't help it, sir. We've made up our minds, and
wo mean to make a day of it. I thought I'd just come
and tell yen that we was at the Red Lion," and here
Peggy made a rash attempt to adjust her bonnet, which
added the tenth bob to its Elucidian arrangement. "Can't
help it, mann," repeated she with forcible intonation ;
"I must go now, please. We're all at the Red Lion,
and we mean to make a day of it. Good morning,
marm, and here Peggy essayed a parting courtesy,
which resolved itself into something between a stumble
and a slide, as she turned round on her way to the
To reason with a woman in such a decided state of
opinion would have been useless, but no slight conster-
nation was excited by the sudden revolt. Frank in-
dulged in a few anathemas against beer-shops in.general,
and the Red Lion in particular. There was no help in
the dilemma. To get fresh hands at such a busy junc-
ture was impossible, and the consequences were, that
Mrs. Andrews lost a considerable sum of money, and
incurred a slur on her reputation for obliging
punctuality.
It turned out showery in the evening, and we grate-
fully accepted the offer of a bed. The following morning
some interested anxiety was felt as to the results of the
preceding day's dissipation, and the facts elicited by
degrees afforded the following amount of intelligence.
Gin, ale, cider, and that class of beverage had kept the
ladies and gentlemen occupied and excited until sunset,

when Peggy, whose excessive modesty appeared to have
taken a holiday, called for another pint of " the best,"
in order that she might "treat" Tom Clamp, the black-
smith, before they parted. At this moment an itinerant
organ-boy struck up a polka, and Peggy and Tom Clamp
began to perform rotary motions with dangerous velo-
city. Peggy, mistaking somethine- for nothing, unfor-
tunately fed headlong-, and in the ?all contrived to break
her leg. This sail accident put a speedy end to the
carousal. Polly managed to sneak home by help of the
park wall, but unfortunately her brutal husband was
there before her, and as we seldom forgive the faults in
others which we have a tendency to in ourselves, he
grew savagely violent in seeing her state of bewilder-
ment, and a "civil" war ensued, which terminated in
poor Polly's having a black eye and sprained wrist.
Hetty lost a half-sovereign out of her pocket, which she
had been six months in saving. Rachel got the tooth
of a comb driven into her head by some unknown agency.
Selina had so far forgotten herself during the "
jollifica-
tion" as to call Dick, who was entertaining serious
matrimonial designs towards her, by the contemptuous
appellation of " a long-faced snivel-breeches," which
epithet he remembered, and resented by the sober re-
nunciation of his tender vows. Martha, a bit of a virago
at the best, had got extatically pugnacious, broke two
panes of glass in a struggle with the landlord, who ob-
jected to her attempting an Irish jig in a basket of pipes,
and then pummelled and punched Harry for some im-
pertinent allusion, until he turned in self-defence, and
held the butcher's tray up as a shield, whereby Hetty
got a severe bruise on her arm, and the skin off her
knuckles, not to mention a gown torn beyond redemp-
tion. Dick and Harry laid all the blame on the women,
with true Adam-like courage, although it was fully
proved that Dick had been the first to mention the
capital ale at the new Red Lion, and invited Selina to go
and have a "sup" with her dinner, which innocent
invitation led into all the mischief.
Some time after we paid another visitto the "Grange,"
and was sorry to find that Polly's leg will never be as
useful as nature intended it to be, and that Dick and
Selina had been " huffish" for upwards of three months
to the great secret distress of both parties. We ascer-
tamed, however, that the punishment and repentance
attending the " making a day of it" have had a lasting
effect, and that each of the parties honestly avows that
the consequences served them right, for they had been
"great fools"—a just conclusion, which many gentlemen
who are given to " make a night of it" would do well
to as readily act upon.
We hope to see Dick and Selina married before the
autumn, but the insult passed upon him still rankles, we
find, for we accidentally overheard him say to her very
lately—
" Mind, Sleener, if ever you call me a long-faced
snivel-breeches when we're married, I'll go to Ilostra,-
liyer."

Lor, Dick, it was only a slip of the tongue" replied
"Sleener." " You was as big a fool as any of us, and
we shall be happy enough if we don't go making days
of it." Selina is quite right, and we earnestly hope that
the myriads of Pollys and Harrys and Peggys will
adopt her opinion, and be cautious how they patronise
new or old Red Lions and " make a day of it."