“One of the first canons of criticism is never to attempt the feat yourself; jeer rather at others.”
“The children don’t like the new schoolmarm near so well as this ’un,” observed Dodge, touching the grave with his broom. “Lord, it was an unfort’nate thing, for there wasn’t a better girl nor she were in all Craddock (as I was a tellin’ of you, sir), not when she fust come as pupil teacher. It was all along of her havin’ no friends, and her mother far away. She used to say to me at times of an afternoon wen she was a passin’ through the churchyard—‘Dodge,’ says she, ‘do you know I have no one to care for, or to care for me, in all the world?’ I used to comfort her like, and say as there was plenty in Craddock as cared for her, but she always shook her head, sort o’ sad.”
“Poor thing!” Lady Engleton exclaimed.
“And one mornin’ a good time after, I found her a cryin’ bitter, just there by her own grave, much about where the gentleman ’as his foot at this moment” (the Professor quickly withdrew it). “It was in the dusk o’ the evenin’, and she was a settin’ on the rail of old Squire Jordan’s grave, jes’ where you are now, sir. We were sort o’ friendly, and wen I heard ’er a taking on so bad, I jes’ went and stood alongside, and I sez, ‘Wy Ellen Jervis,’ I sez, ‘wot be you a cryin’ for?’ But she kep’ on sobbin’ and wouldn’t answer nothin’. So I waited, and jes’ went on with my work a bit, and then I sez again, ‘Ellen Jervis, wot be you a cryin’ for?’ And then she took her hands from her face and she sez, ‘Because I am that miserable,’ sez she, and she broke out cryin’ wuss than ever. ‘Dear, dear,’ I sez, ‘wot is it? Can’t somebody do nothin’ for you?’
“‘No; nobody in the world can help me, and nobody wants to; it would be better if I was under there.’ And she points to the ground just where she lies now—I give you my word she did—and sure enough, before another six months had gone by, there she lay under the sod, ’xacly on the spot as she had pointed to. She was a sinner, there’s no denyin’, but she ’ad to suffer for it more nor most.”
“Very sad,” observed Professor Theobald nervously, with a glance at Hadria, as if expecting derision.
“It is a hard case,” said Lady Engleton, “but I suppose error has to be paid for.”
“Well, I don’t know ’xacly,” said Dodge, “it depends.”
“On the sex,” said Hadria.
“I have known them as spent all their lives a’ injurin’ of others, and no harm seemed to come to ’em. And I’ve seed them as wouldn’t touch a fly and always doin’ their neighbours a kind turn, wot never ’ad a day’s luck.”