, 1877-01-26
The Vicar of Wakefield; or Trials of
the Primrose Family.
BY DIR. OLIVER GOLDSMITH.

was ever of the opinion that the
honest man who married and brought
nm a large family, did more service than
he who ontinued single; and l had
scarce taken orders year before chose
INV wife, q good-natured notable wo-
man. who could read any English book
without much spelling, while for pick
ling. preserving and cookery none could
excel her. We loved each other tender
ly, had an elegant house IN good
neighborhood, and lived many years In
a state of much happiness.
Our children we're well-formed and
healthy, and, though we had but six, L
considered them'a very valuable pres
emit to nv country. Our eldest son was
named George; our second child, q girl,
Olivia; another girl, Sophia; Moses was
our next: and, after twelve years, we
had two sons more, Richard and Will
liam. When our visitors would say:
eMrs, Primrose, you have the finest
children In the whole counuyr
"Ah, neighbor." she would answer,
ssthay are as heaven made them-hand-
some enough if they be good enough;
for handsome is that hondsome does. "
And then she would bid the girls hold
up their heads; who, to conceal nothing,
were certainly handsome.
Masrimony was always one Of my ia
yorite topics. and wrote several SER
mons to prove its happiness. 1t was
perhaps, from hearing marriage so Of
ten recommended that my Oldest son,
upon leaving Oxford fixed his affections
upon a neighboring clergyman's daugh-
ter. Miss Arabella Wilmot, who was al
lowed by all Except my two daughters)
to be completely pretty. Everything
was soon happily arranged, but as Mr..
Wilmot VAS courting his fourth wife,
and / always stoutly contended that
4 clergyman should not marry a second
time, our Controversies on this point be-
gan to cool his friendship. The day be-
fore the marriage q relation called with
sorry news.
seThe merchant in town, said he, Sin
whose hands your money was lodged.
has gone of to avoid bankruptcy, and
is thought not to have left shilling in
the pound" tatt
This blow soon determined Mr.. VIII
mot to break of the match, and my fami-
" found themselves humbled in the
world, without an education to render
them callous to its contempt. As we
had only four hundred pounds remain
ing out Of fourteen thousand, Ijoyfully
accepted q small cure Of fifteen pounds
q year, meaning to increase my salary
by farming. Ny eldest son, George,
having started for London to seek his
fortune, we set out soon after for our
new home. Stopping the first night at
an obscure inn, we found there a poor
gentleman named Burchell. who lacked
money to pay his reckoning, hav-
ing temporarily impoverished him
self by his benovelence. 1 gladly lent
him two pounds, and, during part of
next day, he travelled with us, giving me
an entertaining account of Sir William
Thornhill, the generous and eccentric
uncle Of our new landlord, and endear-
ing himself to us all by 7lunging In
to q rapid stream and rescuing Sophia
who had been thrown from her horse by
the efOrce Of the current.
Our retreat was in q little neighbor-
hood Of frugal farmers. The house, of
one story. was snugly thatched, and
nicely whlteWashed inside, and, though
the same room served for parlor and
kitchen that only made it the warmer.
We had many simple pleasures to re-
fresh us after our honest industry, and
often sat together when the welther was
hne, on q rustic seat overshaded with
hawthorn and honeysuckle.
There, one holiday, genteel young
man approached us with a careless su-
perior air, and soon let us know that he
was Squire Thornhill, our landlord.