1 10 3 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ee45fbaacfead75f4b81d207502b80b6.pdf 0c002c4d456d9f40f1c4c93bb839d685 PDF Text Text THE GHOST OF MY UNCLE. TO WHICH IS ADDED, THE OUTWITTED TAX-GATHERER. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. 25 ��GHOST OF M Y U N C L E . I AROSE early in the morning, and after taking a good breakfast, set out from home. A quantity of rain had fallen in the night It was, however, fair when I commenced my expedition, and I wished it so to remain. The morning was still and beautiful; it was the early hour of four; I could not yet distinguish the sun, though I was sensible he had left his ocean bed from the beautiful streaks of colouring in the eastern sky. To express the softness, mildness, and calmness of the scenery, at that hour, I cannot find adequate words; those only can conceive it who have witnessed the scene. I had not proceeded more than two miles, before a few drops alarmed me with apprehension of a soaking shower, from a heavy black cloud that was slowly sailing over my head, and my fears were soon realized by a very thick descent that followed, on which I betook �4 myself with all speed to a thatched cottage, that I saw at some distance, for shelter. Many years had elapsed since I had wandered about in this spot in careless infancy, and the pretty secluded cot to which I was advancing, had once been my home. I looked around on the hills and dales, and could easily recognise them as my old acquaintances. ' Ha,' said I, ' ye change not your appearance, ye grow not old in the course of time, the feebleness of age cometh not upon you ;---ye still smile in the brightness of summer, and frown in the lowering winter. For ages ye have reared your towering crests and given food to the flocks and the herds that have chequered your dark surface; ye have given a direction to the murmuring brook that proceeds from you, till it seeks, far distant, the mighty ocean; and while generation after generation hath passed away, ye have preserved unvaried the features ye possessed in ages gone--- Even now, as in years past, my eyes behold the still sunshine sleeping upon your gentle s'oping declivities, interrupted only when the light cloud of spring, for a moment, casts over them its passing shadow ! My cogitations were suddenly interrupted by the gate at the end of the pasture, whichIopened. In another moment I was in the porch of the cottage; I lifted the latch, and went �5 in. The house appeared just the same as I had left it ten years before. The furniture was the same, and each piece occupied the same position. The old clock stood ticking in the corner, as it had done for four-score years, the oaken settle remained behind the door, and my uncle's antique two armed chair by the fire-side; but I saw no living creature in the house besides the cat on the hearthstone. I listened awhile, but could hear nothing. At this I rather wondered, as of yore the house was seldom, scarcely ever, totally deserted. I then went forward into the spence, or country parlour, where I found several neighbour cousins, and the servants, all standing in deep silence around the bed of my dying uncle. On entering, all eyes turned upon me; I was a stranger to most of them; there were, however, one or two who remembered me. I advanced to the bed-side, and the countenance of my uncle for a moment brightened up at my approach, but soon subsided again into a cold tranquil indifference. It was plain that death was rapidly approaching. He had been speechless several hours; consequently we could hold no conversation. He, however, put out his hand, which I grasped with an affection redoubled by the prospect of soon losing him for ever. In my younger days I had lived �with him, and he having no children of his own, was then remarkably fond of me; subsequently that affection was strengthened between us, and although circumstances had cast my lot in another country, yet we had kept up a friendly and affectionate intercourse. Some time previous to his indisposition, I had again removed to within thirty miles of his residence, which was the place from whence I set out on this sorrowful visit. My uncle was a man of sound judgment, keen observation, and cheerful social disposition, joined to a thorough knowledge of mankind; he possessed a good portion of eccentricity and humour. He loved a cheerful glass; he was kind to his servants, and dependants, and though rather of a frugal and saving disposition, yet he was charitable to his poor neighbours. In his freindships he was rather capricious, but firm in his attachment to the kirk and goverment of his country. He was apt to be a little passionate and hasty in his temper; but his resentment was seldom of long duration. He was well beloved by those among whom he dwelt, and might be pronounced a good neighbour, and an excellent subject. By a long course of industry in his profession, he had amassed a pretty good property, the knowledge of which had drawn around him a host of needy �7 relations, who besieged him with flattery and professions, but those attentions were chiefly drawn forth by their hopes of inheriting the old man's property. How he had willed it was not known. He was a man of prudence, and seldom blabbed out his private affairs. On my arrival, I found all the friends about him remarkably attentive and duteous in their behaviour, though it was evident that a good deal of the affection was assumed. Shortly after, he fell into a kind of a dose, and all left the room save an attendant or two. Peggy, the servant who had lived With my uncle fourteen years, now insisted on my taking some refreshment. But I was too much agitated to feel any thing like pleasure in my repast, and what I ate was more to please the faithful old domestic, than from any inclination of my own. When my slight meal was over, I got up and went to the window in a serious and reflecting mood. The afternoon was far advanced, and the scenery without was wrapped in tranquillity. I was soon summoned from my station to the parlour. My uncle had somewhat revived, and his speech had returned. He told us death was making rapid advances, and that we might soon expect the moment of his dissolution. He informed us where we should find his will, and gave us some excellent advice on our future conduct. �8 Some things he requested us to perform, which I thought were a little odd. He wished us to read his will in the room where he was, immediately after he had expired. He desired that he might not he laid out, as it is commonly called, until at least twelve hours after his departure; that his large two armed oaken chair might be placed in all order and solemnity at the head of the table every meal, and that it should remain unoccupied till after his funeral. He also wished to be interred in a very deep grave. All these requests, we promised faithfully to observe, when, after taking an affectinate farewell of each, he quietly resigned himself to his pillow; his breathing became more and more faint, till at last we could perceive it no more. During these transactions my mind was in a state I cannot well describe : my thoughts were all confusion, while at the same time I struggled to be calm and composed. Poignant as were my feelings, I gazed on my dying relative with a sort of apathy and grief, and at the moment when nature was yielding up the contest I could not shed a tear. In a short time all quitted the appartment, and I was left alone. The branches of the huge elm trees, with their thickening foliage, partially screening the window, made it, under such circumstances, �9 awfully gloomy and tranquil. I took several turns about the room, and with a soft step I approached the bed, gazed a moment, turned away, and then going up to the window, strove to divert my thoughts by looking at the surrounding landscape. Twilight was descending, and the sober hues of evening gradually enveloped the lofty hills. No sound struck my ear, except the faint and low murmers of the brook, which brawled down the valley at the bottom of the Flinty Knowe—the shout, softened by distance, of the peasant committing his herds to the pasture—and now and then the solitary barking of a shepherd's dog among the echoing dales, attendant on his master looking out his charge for the night. I had not stood at the casement many minutes when my cousins, all talking in a rude, noisy, and indecorous manner, came into the room with the will, which it seems they had departed in search of the moment the testator had expired. I was a good deal shocked at the frivolity they manifested, and could not help reproving them, though in a mild and gentle manner, for the little respect they paid to the deceased. ' Why ye ken,' said one, 'he tauld us to read the will amaist as soon as he died.''Ay,'cried another, ' and sae in conformity wi' his command, we went straight up the stairs and �10 rummaged o'er his auld kist, till we found it.' ' Mind your ain concerns, gudeman, and we'll mind ours,' rejoined a third, rather gruffly; so that my well meant admonitions had no better effect than to cause me to be more disliked by the party; for I could perceive before this that they looked on me in the light of an unwelcome intruder. The will was now read, to which all paid the greatest attention. A mute anxiety and deep interest sat on every countenance : their aspects was, however, instantly changed into those of intense disappointment and vexation, on hearing that my uncle had made a stranger, whom none of us knew, the heir of all his property, real and personal. For my part, this circumstance did not affect me in the least. I had not had any expectation of inheriting the smallest portion; therefore could not feel disappointed. But with the others it was different; they had clung to him like so many leeches, or like the ivy to the old ruin, and with about as much affection as the two before-mentioned things have for the objects to which they so closely adhere. A most appalling and disgusting scene now took place among the disappointed legacy hunters. They abused the old man in the most shocking terms: they taxed him with injustice and villany, and even proceeded to call down imprecations upon his �11 lifeless corse. I shuddered at the conduct of the unprincipled villains; I trembled at the impiety of men who could, at a time the most solemn and impressive to a human being, act in a manner sufficient to call down upon them immediate and divine vengeance. I was chilled with horror. I almost expected every moment to see the lifeless corse of my uncle start from the bed, on which it lay, to take vengeance on the audacious wretches. Once, indeed, I actually thought I saw his lips quiver with rage—his eyebrows knit together—and all the muscles of his countenance contract into a dreadful frown. I shuddered at the sight, and withdrew my gaze. At length they went into the kitchen, and I was once more left, alone in the chamber of death. I went to the bed-side, and the scene I had just witnessed operated so forcibly tin my feelings, that I burst into tears, and uttered aloud my lamentations overmylifeless relative. When this ebullition had somewhatsubsided,I began to reflect a little where I was, and a sort of timidity came creeping over me. There is an undefinable apprehension which we feel while we are in company with the dead. We imagine, in spite of the efforts of reason, that the departed spirit is hovering near its former tenement, It being now quite dark, and having these �feelings in a strong degree, it is no wonder that I rather preferred the company of the wretches in the kitchen, than to remain long where I was. I accordingly proceeded thither, where I found them all carousing round a large table, on which were placed the fragments of the dinner, and plenty of liquor. I reminded them of our promise to place my uncle's old two armed chair at the head of the table, as he had requested, which they had neglected to do, and which they now strenuously opposed my doing. I was, however, resolutely determined to have it done, and at length succeeded. I then retired to the fireside, where I sat, without taking any part in the conversation, or in any thing that passed during the whole evening. I shall pass over the several succeeding hours, the whole of which they sat drinking, till they were all in a greater or less degree intoxicated, and generally brawling, wrangling, and swearing in a loud and boisterous manner. The night became stormy as it advanced. The wind arose, and at intervals moaned, sighed, and whistled shrilly without, roared in the wide chimney, and as it furiously bent the trees in which the house was embosomed, made a sound similar to the dashing of the waves on the shore of the ocean. The rain fell in torrents, and the �13 large drops pattered against the window with a ceaseless and melancholy cadence. It was now getting nigh the 'witching time of night,' and I saw no signs of the revellers quitting the table. On the contrary, they grew more loud and boisterous. In obedience to their imperious commands, yet evidently with the greatest reluctance, Peggy had kept replenishing the exhausted vessels with more liquor, and their demands increased in proportion to the reluctance with which they were satisfied. At length, however, on receiving an intimation from me that I would interpose, she absolutely refused to draw any more liquor for them, telling them they had plenty, and that it was time to retire to bed. The scene that now ensued was such as is impossible for me to describe; maddened and inflamed with rage at being thus refused, the wretches began to throw the furniture up and down the house, break the glasses and jugs, and to abuse the servant, from whom they attempted to wrest the key of the cellar, yelling out at the same time the most horrid oaths and imprecations. The table was shortly overset, and the lights put out in the scuffle, and in a few moments we should, in all probability, have had blood shed, as I felt myself roused to a pitch of fury, and was advancing with the �14 large heavy headed fire-poker to the assistance of the servant, who was loudly shrieking for help: just then the old clock struck twelve rapid strokes, and the bell had not ceased to vibrate, when we heard three heavy knocks, as if given by a mallet upon the wall, which seperated the kitchen from the parlour where my uncle lay. There appeared to be something supernatural in this. The whole house seemed to shake to its very foundation. A deep silence ensued. I stood still. The wretches instantly became sober. We all gazed earnestly and wildly at the place from whence the noise proceeded. Scarce had we recovered from the shock, when we were again thunderstruck with a noise in the parlour; it was unlike any sound that I had ever heard before. It seemed as if all the furniture in the room was violently crashed together, mingled with the noise of fire-arms. Shrieks and exclamations burst from all. The windows shook and every door of the habitation gave a momentary jar. I trembled with awe. I felt every hair of my head bristling upwards—my knees smote against each other—a deathly paleness sat on every countenance, and all eyes were fixed in an intense gaze on the door, at the upper part of the kitchen, which led to the staircase, buttery, and parlour. When, to complete the horror of the scene, the door burst wide �15 open—dashed against the wall, and in, gliding at a slow pace, came a dreadful apparition. Its countenance was that of death. It seemed to have been long the inhabitant of that dark and narrow house— the grave; the worms had revelled upon its eyes, and left nothing but the orbless sockets. The rest of the skeleton was enveloped in a long and white sheet. The horrid spectre advanced into the middle of the room. I involuntarily shrunk back—the heavy weapon dropped from my hand and rang loudly on the stone floor; overcome with terror, I sank into a chair. A cold sweat broke from my forehead, and I had well nigh fainted on its first appearance; the others had tumbled one over the other, in the greatest horror and confusion, and now lay as if dead in all directions. The spectre gazed wildly round for a moment—at the clock—at the fire—and then turned its eyeless sockets upon each individual, motioning at the same time with its long arm, and pointing to the outer door, seemingly directing to an outlet for an escape, and wishing for their exit. They were not long in obeying this intimation, out severally crawled away on their hands and knees, with all the speed they could possibly make; none of them daring to stand upright. The spectre all the while was �16 standing in the middle of the floor, eyeing, or rather appearing to eye them, through the void sockets, where eyes had once glistened, as they retreated one by one in the greatest fear and trepidation. When Peggy and I offered to decamp along with the rest, the spectre motioned us to remain where we were, and we durst not for our lives disobey. When the last of the crew was making his exit, and had crawled nearly to the door, the spectre, which had hitherto stood motionless, except waving its arm and slowly turning its eyeless countenance on the wretches as they crept successively out of the door, bounded with the rapidity of lightning after the terrified wretch. But swift as the flight of spirits are, in this case that of the mortal was swifter : the fellow gave a thrilling scream—made a convulsive spring—his heels struck violently against the lintel of the door in his course, and he vanished from my sight and the spectre after him. ' Gude defend us,' said Peggy. For my part, ill as I was frightened, I could scarce forbear laughing outright at the last incident so comic and farcical. Half a minute had not elapsed, when I heard a step, and in another instant (I still kept my eyes on the door) in came the very form of my uncle, muttering, ' Villains! Rascals! Hypocrites !' He fastened the door �17 after him, shut out his nephews and the spectre, and then came towards the fire. A t this I was more amazed than ever. He, however, gave me to understand that he was alive and well, and that all I had seen transacted in the afternoon and evening, was nothing but a stratagem he had made use of to try the sincerity of his relations, and if he found them, as he conjectured, false in their professions, to get rid of them. The scheme answered nobly, and, it must be confessed, the stratagem was well planned and exceedingly well executed. My uncle concluded his relation with assuring me, that, excepting a good legacy for his faithful servant Peggy, I should inherit all that he possessed, as some little acknowledgement for the fright he had caused me; and as for the wretches he had expelled from his house, in so singular a manner, they should never more cross the threshold of his door. W e all three now sat down to a little supper, of which my uncle stood in great need, and after taking a cheerful glass retired to bed. Notwithstanding the fatigue of my journey, and sitting up so late, my sleep was far from being sound and refreshing. I was disturbed with fearful dreams the whole night. At length the cocks began to crow —the clouds of the eastern sky to break �18 assunder, and the morning to dawn. When it was tolerably light I started up, resolved on a stroll over the meadows. Before going out, however, I went into the parlour, where I found every thing in the utmost confusion. Chairs, tables, walking-sticks, and logs of wood, lay all over the floor, and every thing upset or in a wrong position. I then proceeded to the outer door, which I opened, but started back in horror, on perceiving a human skull lying on a sheet at my right hand, just without the door. Recovering from my fright, I gathered it up, and could not restrain my laughter, when I discovered it to be nothing more than a mask, representing a death's head. It seems while we were all wrangling the night before, my uncle had stepped out of bed—dressed himself —piled all the furniture, logs of wood and timber, he could in the apartment, in a heap, crowning the pyramid with a dozen or more walking-sticks, which had lain time out of mind on the top of an old cupboard —then gone up stairs and put on the horrid mask—brought down a pistol, and enveloped himself from his feet to his chin, in a clean white sheet; after alarming us, just as the clock struck the awful hour of twelve, by striking three heavy blows against the wall with a huge log of wood, he contrived to tumble down the whole mass of furniture �19 at once—fired his pistol at the same moment, and then burst in upon us in the manner described. I now went out. As I was crossing the yard, I discovered several drops of blood on a stone, which I could no way account for, but by supposing some of my good cousins had received, in their retreat, a fall; and, a little further, I discovered a pair of shoes. A receptacle for the filth of the byre, in another part of the yard, bore evident marks of some one having had therein a severe struggle. Indeed the adventures of the flying heroes had been various and woful; one of them, he at whom the spectre had made such a sudden bound, as I afterwards ascertained, actually ran seven miles without stopping, and with his shrieks, supposing the grim monster close at his heels, almost raised the whole country. I now proceeded onwards over the fields, listening to the warbling lark ' springing blithely up to greet the purpling east.' The air was fresh and pure, and, in the beauties of nature, I awhile forgot the events of the preceding evening. With hasty steps I roved over the faintly recollected scenes, where I had in childhood spent some of my happiest hours, until weary with my rambles I returned to breakfast. �20 OUTWITTING A TAX-GATHERER. SOME writers have stated the number of islands in Strangford Lough to be upwards of two hundred, but it has been ascertained that there are not more than fifty-four. Some are inhabited ; on others cattle of various kinds are kept by the proprietors of the grounds on the opposite shore. Upon one of them there is a very extensive rabbitwarren. The individual who resides on this island had for many years derived a very considerable income from the sale of the rabbit skins, and although he had erected a very good house, he never once dreamed of paying any thing in the shape of excise or taxes. At length, however, a tax-gatherer, who had paid a visit to the houses on the neighbouring shore, beheld with anxious gaze the goodly edifice which presented itself upon the island, and determined upon visiting it in the name of his Majesty. The proprietor of the place, having been in the habit of receiving visits from persons who came to purchase his skins, and supposing the taxman to be one of them, sent off a boat to fetch him to the island. On reaching the place, the man of taxes began to make various enquires as to the time the house had �21 been erected, the number of windows, hearths, &c., it contained: and, having gained the desired information, he immediately demanded, on behalf of his Majesty, a considerable sum, as the amount of taxes and arrears due upon the place. In vain the poor man protested against the proceeding, as an imposition, in vain he contended, that the demand, never having been made before, he had no right to pay it then. The stranger was inexorable, and nothing would satisfy him but the payment of the money down, or, in default thereof, he threatened to return direct, with a party of the army, and lead, drive, and carry away all that he couldfinduponthe island. Atlength,fearing such a catastrophe, and finding every effort to soften the hard heart of the exciseman completely fruitless, the poor man paid down the amount demanded, and got a regular acknowledgement for the same; and the officer, having put the money in his pocket, haughtily desired that he might be put ashore. ' No, no,' said the old man ; 'althoughhis Majesty may compel me to pay taxes, he cannot compel me to keep a boat to row you, and the likes ofyou,back and forward.' After many threats and entreaties, the, islanderatlastconsented,as he had brought his visitorover,togivehim ' a bit of arow'backagain;andboth �getting into the boat, along with a young lad, son to the proprietor, they pulled for some time in the direction of shore. When about midway, however, the islander, quietly laying down his oar, informed the officer, that although he had promised to give him ' a bit of a row,'he had never any intention of taking him the entire way, and that he must now do the best he could, as he was himself obliged to return to the island, or that they would land him on Phaddy Lhug, (a large rock, which was visible at low water, but was many feet beneath the surface at full tide,) from which, if he shouted loud enough, perhaps some of his friends on the shore might hear him, and send a boat to convey him the remainder of the distance. On the other protesting against such conduct, and insisting that they should continue their labour, and take him ashore—the old man, pulling his oar into the boat, and desiring his son to do the same, very drily observed, that if the gentleman did not wish to quit the boat, they would not insist upon his doing so, as they ' could swim like two water dogs, and thus easily regain the island; but that if he chose to pay him for it, he would willingly land him at any place he wished. Finding himself outwitted by the islanders, the officer deemed it the more advisable way to accede to the terms proposed—when, to his �23 astonishment, he found that the demand was nothing less than the entire amount he had received for the taxes, together with a receipt for those of the following year, and a special engagement, that he would never again return to that island to demand taxes on excise. Hard as the terms were, he was at length compelled to accede to them, rather than take on a tide which, at the time, was running at the rate of nine mites an hour, the alternative of being left to drift out to sea in an open boat, with scarcely a hope of relief from any quarter. It is scarcely necessary to observe, that having paid back the money, and giving the required receipt, the crestfallentaxmanwas put safely ashore, and never again visited the island, or trusted himself in company with so tricky a customer as the old dealer in rabbit skins. SCARLET DISCOVERED. A Highlander entered a haberdasher's shop in Perth, and asked for a piece of scarlet cloth to make him a waistcoat. The rustic manner of the Gael set some young women who were at the counter a-giggling; and the shopman, willing to afford them sport, began to play off his small wit upon the �24 stranger. " So, goodman, ye want a piece of scarlet ? Would you know scarlet if you saw it?" " I tink I would," replied the mountaineer. The shopman threw down a piece of blue cloth: " Is that scarlet ?" " Hout no, no! that no be it." A piece of green cloth was produced; the same question was repeated, and received a similar answer to the great amusement of the querist and his female friends, who were at no pains to conceal their mirth. The Highlander took revenge in his own way ; He put his nose to the cloth, and affected to judge of the colour by the smell. The shopman, at request, did the same; but the instant he bent his nose towards the counter, the Highlander seized him by the ears, and made his nasal protuberance come, in such violent contact with the boards, that the blood sprung from it " Tat," said the Highlander, " i s ta colour o', scarlet tae ye noo, lad;" and he walked away. � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/5f93b7a2701fc16b147fb28c25a60766.jpg 16b01e124a931a6ad032976f2674b360 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut portraying outdoor scene with man in boat in foreground and village in background; a basket and anchor on path leading to village Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 027: Title-page illustration of a man in a small boat. A village can be seen in the background. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Ghost of My Uncle. To which is added, the Outwitted Tax-Gatherer. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Outwitted Tax-Gatherer Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 15 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9934228043505154">s0585b34</a> Description An account of the resource 25 printed at the foot of the title page Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource ca.1840-1850? Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Type The nature or genre of the resource supernatural & ghost stories Architecture: city view Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: supernatural Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Gender: man/men Object: anchor(s) Object: basket(s) Outdoor Scene Transportation: ship/boat(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/267a6fb5694b181ba688f773bd1db6e0.jpg d707665535de78fa10edef34d9b364bf Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3486 Width 1944 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ed4be61fea828352d5fe4c12853bf845.pdf af4cc4de08b37eaf1285c05d626658aa PDF Text Text SHEPHERDESS A VERY INTERESTING, PATHFTIC AND GLASGOW: [PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS, ��THE SHEPHERDESS OF THE ALPS. IN that part of the Alps, amidst the high mountains of Savoy, very near the road that leads from Briancon to Modena, is a lonely valley, whose solitary aspect instils into the minds of all who travel through it a sort of pleasing melancholy. Three hills in the form of an amphitheatre, on which some shepherds' huts are scattered at several distances, interspersed with clumps of lofty trees, streams tumbling down the mountains in cascades, and pastures ever green, compose the beautiful landscape of this natural scene. Count Fonrose and his Lady were returning from France to Italy, when their coach broke down as they were passing through the valley; and as the day was on the decline, they were obliged to look for some place of cover, where to pass the night. Whilst they advanced towards one of the huts, they perceived a flock of sheep drove by a shepherdess, whose walk and air filled them with astonishment, and their hearts with the sweet accent of her melodious voice, which the echoes repeated in plaintive sounds. How beautiful's the setting sun ; Its daily course now almost run, We can behold its charms ; More pleasing are its fainter rays. Than when in full meridan blaze. Thus it will prove, said she, when, after a painful race, the weary soul arrives at the wished-for gaol, and �4 The Shepherdessof•the Alps. calmly drops into eternity, to renew its vigour in the pure source of immortality. But alas ! how distant is the prospect! how slowly it passes away! In saying these words, the shepherdess moved on ; her head declined ; with a supineness in her attitude, which gave ease and dignity to her gait and mein. Struck with amazement at what they saw, and more at what they heard, the Count and Countess redoubled their steps to overtake her. But what was their surprise, when, under the coarse straw hat and mean apparel, they met with every beauty, every grace. Pray, child, said the Countess, (finding she endeavoured to shun them,) be not alarmed, we are travellers, and an accident obliges us to ask for shelter till morning in one of your cabins; be so kind as be our guide. I am very sorry, madam, answered the shepherdess, blushing and casting down her eyes, that you will be but ill accommodated, as these huts belong to very poor people. You live here, I suppose, said the Countess, and surely I may put up with the inconveniences for one night, when you undergo them continually. There is a wide difference, said the modest shepherdess, I am brought up to it. I cannot believe that, interrupted Count Fonrose, not able any longer to hide his emotion; no—you were not formed for such hardships. Fortune is unjust, or how is it possible that so lovely a person should be reduced to live obscurely in so low and ordinary a dress. Fortune, replied Adelaide, (so was the shepherdess named,) is not to be blamed, but when she deprives us of what she has given us before. My condition has its sweets for one that knows no other state in life. Custom and example create wants for the wealthy, which the poor are ignorant of. It may be so with those that are born in this solitude, said the Count; but for you, charming unknown, you are not what you seem to be: your air, your voice, your language, all betray your disguise. These few words you have said, discover a noble soul, and a cultivated education. 0 ! tell us, lovely creature, what cruel turn of fate has brought you to this condition ? A man under misfortune, replied Adelaide, �The Shepherdess of the Alps. 5 has a thousand means to extricate himself; but a woman, in such cases, has no resource but in the honest servitude; and in the choice of one's master, methinks it is best to prefer the good and virtuous. You are going to see mine, and you will be delighted with the innocence of their lives, and the candour and simplicity of their manners. As she was still speaking, they arrived at the hut: it was divided by a partition from the sheepfold, into which the shepherdess turned her flock, counting them over with the most serious attention, heedless of the strangers, who beheld her with admiration. The old folks, such as presented Baucis and Philemon, received their guests with the honest, simple courtesy which recalled the golden age. We have nothing to offer you, said the good woman, but clean straw for your bed, and a hearty welcome to such provisions as heaven affords us, milk, fruit, and oaten bread. On entering the cabin, they were amazed to see the order and neatness that appeared every where in so poor a habitation. Their table was walnut plank, finely polished by frequent rubbing; their earthern dishes and dairy pans shone with the nicest cleanness; every thing presented the image of contented poverty, happy to have wherewith to support the real wants of nature. It is our dear daughter, said the old woman, that manages all our little affairs. At break of day, before she leads her flocks to the hills and dales, whilst they are nipping about our hut the sweet grass surcharged with the morning dew, she employs that time in putting every thing in the neat order and manner you see them placed. What! said the Countess, interrupting her, is the shepherdess indeed your daughter ? Would to heaven she was, replied the good creature ; she is the daughter of my heart, and I have a mother's fondness for her; but 1 am not so happy as to have brought such perfections into the world, nor are we worthy of such honour. Who is she, then? Whence came she? What misfortune has reduced her to so low a station? All that is a secret to us. Three years ago �6 The Shepherdessof•the Alps. she came here in the liabit of a villager, and offered to tend our flock. She would have been welcome to share our little, without taking upon her that painful task; so much the sweetness of her person and behaviour engages our hearts. We could not believe she was bred in a cottage. Our questions made her uneasy. We desisted from farther enquiry, as they seemed to disturb her. As our knowledge of her good qualities increased, so did our respect; but the more we strove to shew her that respect, the more she humbled herself before us. No, never had any child for its parents a more tender regard, a more constant care. She cannot obey, because it is impossible for us to command ; but she dives into our hearts, and prevents our wishes when they are scarcely formed. She is an angel descended from heaven, to be the comfort of our age. What is she doing now in the sheepfold? asked the Countess. She milks the ewes and she-goats, fosters the young kids and lambs, and gives them fresh litter. The cheese she makes is thought delicious: no doubt for having been pressed with her neat hands. I carry it to the market, and have not near enough to supply all those that would be my customers. When the dear child is tending the sheep in the pasture, she employs herself in making works of plaited straw, which are admired by every body. I wish you were to gee with what dexterity she weaves the osier plain twigs, and mats the tender flexible rushes. There is nothing, let it appear ever so perfect, but what she can improve upon. You see, madam, continued the good old dame, in all about you is the image of an easy, contented life; it was she that procured it, it was she, this angelic creature, whose only study is to make us happy. But is she happy ? said the Countess. She does all she can to make us believe so, said the old pastor: but I have made my dame observe, that she ofttim.es returns from the pasture with a dejected look, her eyes still moist with tears; but as soon as she sees us she affects a smile. It is easy to perceive there is some gnawing grief that preys upon her heart, the cause of which we �TU SMpMrdess of the Alps. 7 dare not ask. And then, said the old dame, what concern does she not give me, when, in spite of all our entreaties, the dear creature will, in the severest weather, lead abroad her bleating care. A thousand times have I requested her, in the most earnest manner, to let me now and then relieve her ; but my requests have never been complied with. She rises with the sun, conducts the flock, and does not return till it sets, often shivering ^ith cold. How is it possible, my dear parents, she would say, with all the tenderness of a loving child, how is it possible that I should consent to let you leave your fireside, to be exposed, at your age, to the inclemency of the season, which I, young as I am, can scarce support? At the same time she comes loaded with fagots, which she gathers in the wood; and when she sees I am troubled at the fatigue she must undergo, Don't be uneasy, says she, my dear mother, exercise keeps me warm, and labour is fit for my age. In short, my dear lady, she is as good as she is beautiful. My husband and I never speak of her but with tears of affection. What if you were deprived of her? said the Countess. Why, answered the old shepherd, we should be deprived of all that is dear to us in the world; but if she is to be happier for it, we should die content, and our misfortune would be our comfort. Oh ! may kind heaven heap blessings on her head! There are none so great but what she deserves. I was in hopes her dear hands would have closed my eyes, for I love her much more than I do my life. Adelaide's coming in put an end to the conversation. In one hand she carried a pan of milk, and in the other a basket of fruit; and after courtseying with a grace peculiar to herself, she set about the little household affairs, as if she was not the least taken notice of. My dear child, said the Countess, you give yourself a deal of trouble. Not at all, madam: I endeavour to fulfil the intentions of the best of people, whose servant I am, to treat you in the best manner, with what their little can produce ; but I am afraid, continued whilst she was spreading on a coarse �8 The Shepherdessof•the Alps. table-cloth as white as snow, that you will but make a sorry meal. The bread is brown, but very savoury; the eggs are new laid, the milk fresh drawn, and the fruit fresh gathered, such as the season affords. Diligence, attention, and modest deportment, in every minute duty of hospitality, were conspicious in this wonderful shepherdess. After the frugal repast, Count Eonrose and his amiable lady retired to rest on the bed* though but of straw, which Adelaide had prepared for them. Is not our adventure surprising ? Let us endeavour, said they, to unravel the mystery of this pretended shepherdess, invite her to accompany us, and make her happy if we can. At break of day one of the Count's servants came to let his master know he might proceed on his journey as soon as his honour pleased, for the coach was securely repaired. It was ordered up immediately; but before they left these honest folks, the Countess desired a moment's conversation with the young person who styled herself their servant. Adelaide came to receive her commands. Without desiring to penetrate into the secret of your birth, said the Countess, or into whatever is the cause of your distress, I feel that I am sensibly interested in all that concerns your welfare. It is evident that your courage raises you above your misfortunes, and that you conform your behaviour suitably to your present circumstances. It is true, your charms and your virtues render your condition designed for you. It is in my power, amiable unknown, to alter it, as the Count's intentions are quite agreeble to mine. I waut a bosom friend: and from what I have seen in you, I shall think myself possessed of an inestimable treasure, if you consent to be my friend and companion. Drive from your thoughts the least shadow of dependance. You were not formed for servitude, and should my fond prejudice deceive me, I would rather lift you above your birth than leave you below it. In short, I seek a real friend, one that I can confide in. Be not under any concern about these good people : I shall make up for their loss; at least so far as to �9 The Shepherdess of the Alps. enable tliem to pass the remainder of their days in peace and plenty; and from your hands they shall receive my constant bounty. The poor old folks, who were present, fell on their kness and kissed the Countess' hand, then turning to Adelaide, they conjured her, in the most pressing terms, to accept the lady's generous proposal. We cannot, at our time of day, be far from the grave, and as it has been your constant study to make our lives happy, so must our death leave you comfortless in this solitary place. The shepherdess embracing them, and mixing her tears with theirs, returned a thousand thanks to their noble guests, with a sweetness that increased her charms. I cannot, said she, accept of your favour; heaven has marked my destined lot, and I submit to it: but I shall always with the most grateful heart acknowledge your goodness; and the name of Fonrose will never be absent from my memory. The only thing I request of you is to bury this adventure in eternal silence, and never to reveal the fate of an unknown person, who is determined to live and die in oblivion. The Count and Countess redoubled their solicitations, but all in vain— she was immoveable. The travellers parted from their charming shepherdess, to retirement. During their journey, their conversation was taken up with this strange adventure, which appeared to them like a romance. They arrived at Turin, their imagination full of i t ; and you may be sure their desired silence could not be observed. The charms and virtues of this unknown shepherdess was an inexhaustible source of reflection and conjectures. Young Fonrose, their only son, was often present at their conversation, and never let a single circumstance escape his memory. He was of that age when imagination is most lively, and the heart most susceptible of receiving tender impressions; but was of the character of those who keep the feelings of their sensibility within themselves, and which are so much more violently agitated when they burst from their confinement, as they have never been weakened by any dissipation. All the wonders he heard related of the �10 The Shepherdess of the Alps. valley of Savoy, raised in his soul the most passionate desire of serving her. The object which his imagination has formed, is ever in his mind. He compares it to all he sees, and all he sees is lost in the comparison. The more his impatience increased, the more he took care to disguise it. Turin became insupportable: the valley where the inestimable jewel was hid, was the loadstone that attracted his heart; there he placed all his happiness ; but knew not how to get at it. If his designs are found out, what difficulties to surmount! His parents will never consent to the journey he intends: it will not be looked upon as the mere effects of curiosity, but be deemed a youthful folly, that may have bad consequences ; and the shepherdess may be alarmed at his presence, and shun his addresses; if it is discovered, he loses her for ever. After three months' struggle, he determined to quit all for her alone ; and, under the disguise of a shepherd, find her out in the lonely valley, and there remain till death, if he could not prevail on her to leave it. He disappeared. His father and mother missed him with great consternation, and waited his return with the greatest impatience. Their apprehensions increased more and more ; and his absence continuing, the whole family was plunged into desolation. Their fruitless search and enquiries completed their distress ; till at last these unfortunate parents are reduced to lament the loss of their only child. Whilst the afflicted family of Fonrose was in this dejection, the youth arrived in the valley which had been described, and, in the habit of a peasant, presented himself to some of the neighbouring cottagers, and offered his services. His ambition is satisfied. He is accepted of, and a flock is committed to his care. At first he only followed the sheep wherever they chose to feed, in hopes that chance would direct him to the same pastures where the solitary shepherdess fed her flock. The unhappy, at some times, thought he, may listen to the voice of comfort. It is an aversion to the world, and the desire of a retired, quiet life, that �11 The Shepherdessof•the Alps. detains lier hefe. She will experience some tedious hours, when she will not be displeased to meet with a friendly intercourse, nor avoid a virtuous conversation. If I prove so happy as to make mine agreeable, I shall have great hopes of something more. If I gain her confidence, friendship will follow, of course; and friend* ship in different se&es, is nearly allied to love. Whilst he indulged himself with these pleasing reflections, his eyes wandering on the beautiful scenes of the valley, he heard at some distance, the very voice whose melody he had been so often told of, which raised an emotion in his heart as great as if it had been an accident unexpected. She sung the following words:— Sweet Solitude! to which I fly, Of every bliss bereft; There affliction's cup enjoy, The only boon that's left. These melancholy complaints pierced Fonrose's tender heart. Ah ! whence the grief that consumes her ! what pleasure to afford her comfort! He durst not as yet raise his hopes any higher. It might perhaps alarm her, if he yielded to his impatient longing to behold her; it was sufficient for the first time to have heard the sweetness of her voice. Next morning Fonrose went to the pastures, and having observed which way the lovely shepherdess directed her flock, he sat himself at the foot of the rock, which the day before had echoed with her moving sounds. Fonrose, with all the grace of outward form, possessed every talent, every endowment that the nobility study to attain. He played upon the hautboy as well as Beluzzi, of whom he had learned, and who was at that time the delight of the courts of Europe. Adelaide, absorbed in melancholy, had not yet begun her melodious strains. The echoes were silent; when on a sudden that silence was interrupted by the sweet notes of Fonrose's hautboy. A harmony so uncommon filled her with amazement, mixed with some emotion. �12 The Shepherdess of the Alps. Her ears had never there been struck before but with the shrill squeak and buzzing hum of the rustic bagpipe. Motionless, with deep attention, she cast her eyes around, t o find out from whence proceeded such divine music. » She perceived at some distance, a young shepherd sitting in the cavity of a rock, at the foot of which his sheep were feeding. She drew somewhat nearer, that she might hear him play more distinctly. Behold, said she, the effects of instinct! The ear alone has given this shepherd all the fineness of that charming art I what purity in the notes! variety in the modulations! what fire and neatness in the execution! who then shall say, that taste is not the gift of nature ? Adelaide, for the first time since her retirement, felt her grief in some measure suspended. Fonrose, who saw her approach nearer, and sit down under a willow, to listen more conveniently, had given her no room to think he had perceived her: he took the opportunity, as soon as she retired, to calculate the place of her flock, so as to meet her without affectation, at the bottom of the hill, where the road that led to their different huts crossed each other. He gave her a look in a seemingly careless manner, as if he was wholly taken up with the guidance of the sheep: but ah! what beauties were gazed on in that look! what eyes! what a mouth! what divine features! so moving in their languor! how ravishing would they appear in one animated with love! Affliction had added paleness, and freed, in some degree, the blooming carnation of her cheeks. But of all charms, none struck him with so much admiration, as her elegant shape and air. Her easy motion was that of a young cedar, whose straight and plain stem yielded to the soft impulse of the zephyrs. The charming image which love engraves in his heart, takes up his thoughts, and fills his soul with irresistable passion. How faintly, said he, was she described: the lovely beauty is unknown to the world, whose admiration she deserves. She that would grace a throne, lives under the thatch of a cottage, employed in the low occupation of tending the flocks!—in �The Shepherdess of the Alps. 13 what poor garments does she appear! But she embellishes every thing, and nothing can commend her. What! so delicate a frame made for such a laborious life! homely food! straw her bed! 0 heavens! she has the thorns, for whom do you preserve the roses! Sleep put a stop to those flattering ideas, but did not banish from him her lovely image. Adelaide felt herself somewhat touched with Fonrose's youth and comeliness, nor could she help reflecting on the capricious turns of fortune. For what end, thought she, has nature endowed this young shepherd with such graces! Alas! those gifts, haply useless in his station of life, might prove a source of misery in a higher station. What is outward form! what is beauty! wretched as I am, is it for me to fix their value? This reflection imbittered the little rising pleasure she had indulged. She reproached herself for having yielded to it, and resolved never to give way to it again. Next day, Fonrose imagined that she affected to avoid his coming near her. He was cast down at the very thought. Does she suspect my disguise ? Have I discovered myself? These uncertainties perplexed his mind. His hautboy was neglected. Adelaide was not far distant, but could have heard the sounds, had he played upon it. She could not guess the meaning of its silence, and began to sing, in her old melodious strains,— Ye pretty birds, whose pensive notes My lamentations join; Ah! what avails your warbling throats, Can they soothe woes like mine ? All seem around to share my grief, As if to assuage my pain ; But mine admits of no relief, And comfort speaks in vain. Fonrose, moved to his inmost soul with, lier complaining, so melodiously expressed, could not refrain from taking up his hautboy. She continued, and he accompanied her sweet voice. �14 The Shepherdess of• the Alps. Never was a unison more harmonious. Is this an enchantment! said Adelaide. May I believe my senses! it is no mean shepherd ! it is some supernatural being that I have been listening to! Nature may give a vent, but great masters and constant practice alone can reach to such perfections. As she was thus musing, the valley resounded with a rural or rather divine symphony; Adelaide imagined she saw realized those prodigies which poetry attributes to music, her brilliant sister. Astonished and confused, she could not determine whether to approach or retire. Meanwhile the young shepherd was collecting his flock, to lead it back to the cottage. He is not conscious, said she, of the pleasure he communicates around: he is not the least vain of his perfection; he does not expect the praises I ov^e, which are so justly his due. Such are the sweets of music! it is the only talent that finds enjoyment in itself: all others must have witnesses, or else partakers. Music was a gift from heaven, bestowed upon man in his state of innocence: it is the purest of all pleasures, and the only one that I can yield to. I look upon this as an echo, that comes to repeat my grief. Fonrose, in his turn, affected to avoid her. Adelaide was concerned at it. Alas! said she, I give myself up too easily to the little comfort I felt: I am deprived of it for my punishment. One day they met as if by chance, Shepherd, said she, do you lead your flocks to any great distance ? These words uttered from her sweet lips, caused in Fonrose's heart such an emotion as almost deprived him of his voice. I cannot tell, replied he, with hesitation, it is not I that lead my sheep, it is my sheep that lead me; they are better acquainted than I am with these pastures, and I let them range wherever they please to go. From whence came you ? said Adelaide. I was born 011 the other side the Alps. And were you brought up to a shepherd's life? No doubt, since I am one, I was destined for it. That is what I can scarce believe, she replied, gazing on him with fixed attention; your talents, your language, your air, all con- �15 The Shepherdess of the Alps. vince me to the contrary. You are very good, answered Fonrose; does it become you to tax nature for bestowing her favours with a sparing hand on those of your condition—you, whom she has formed more for a queen than a shepherdess. Adelaide blushed and waved the discourse. The other day, said she, your hautboy accompanied my voice with such a masterly art, as must seem a prodigy in one brought up to feed the flocks. It is to your singing, replied Fonrose, that is so rare in a simple shepherdess. What! were you never instructed ? Like you, I have no other guide than rny heart and my ear. You sung I was moved—what my heart feels, my instrument expresses—I breathe it in my very soul. That is all my secret—nothing is more natural. It is incredible, said Adelaide. t I thought so too, replied he, whilst listening to your voice, and now I am convinced of i t : though sometimes nature and love will frolicsomely bestow their choicest favours on the meanest objects, to shew there is no condition, be it ever so low, but what they can ennoble. Whilst they thus discoursed, advancing in the valley, Fonrose, animated by a small ray of hope, began to make it resound with rapturous notes that pleasure inspires.— A h ! cease, cried Adelaide, spare me the image of a sentiment I never more shall taste. This solitude is consecrated to grief; all here join with my lamentations. I am not without woes, said the young shepherd, fetching a deep sigh, which was followed by a pause of silence. What has caused your afflictions ? of what do you complain ? is it of mankind ? is it of fate ? I really cannot tell. All that I know is, that I am far from being happy—pray inquire no farther into my situation. Hear me, said Adelaide: Heaven has made us acquainted to be a mutual support to each other's woes ; mine are a burden, under which my heart sinks down even to despondency. Whoever you be, if you are unhappy you are compassionate,—I believe you are worthy the confidence I shall repose in you; but you must promise me that the confidence shall be reciprocal. Alas! said Fon- �16 The Shepherdessof•the Alps. rose, my woes are of a nature perhaps never to be relieved. Meet me to-morrow, said Adelaide, at the foot of the hill, under the spreading oak where you heard me moan. I will there reveal what will excite your pity. They parted. Fonrose passed the night with great inquietude; his fate depended on what he was to hear ; he dreaded the discovery of a tender unhappy passion. If she loves, I am undone. He set out to the rendezvous, and the fair shepherdess arrived soon after. The morn was overcast with clouds, as if nature had presaged their sorrowful conversation.— They seated themselves under the oak; when, after a profound sigh, Adelaide thus began T H E S T O R Y OF H E R WOES. " Beneath those stones you see there, almost covered with the creeping grass, lie the remains of a most faithful and virtuous man, whom my love and imprudence brought to the grave. I was born in France, of a wealthy family, and of high distinction ; too wealthy, to my misfortune. Count Oreston conceived for me the most passionate, tender love, to which my heart corresponded with equal warmth. My parents objected to our union, and refused their consent. Hurried on by my passion, I agreed to private marriage, sacred to virtuous souls, but disapproved by laws. Italy then was the seat of war. My husband was ordered to join the corps he was to command ; and I went with him as far as Briancon. There my foolish fondness prevailed on him to stay with me three days, which he passed with extreme reluctance. I sacrifice, said he, my duty for you. But what had I not sacrificed for him! " He afterwards set out with a foreboding that terrified me. I accompanied him to this valley, where we took leave of each other, and I returned to Briancon. In a few days a report of a battle was spread about. I was sure my dear Oreston was there. I wished it for his honour ; I feared it for my love. When I received �17 The Shepherdessof•the Alps. a letter from him, (which afforded me great comfort,) it informed me, that on such a day, such an hour, I should find him in the valley, under the same oak where I had bid him farewell; that he should be alone, and desired to meet me unaccompanied, adding, that he only lived for me. I saw nothing in his letter but his impatience to see me ; and that impatience was to me very flattering. I was exact to the appointment. Mr Oreston received me in the most tender manner. Ah! my dear Adelaide, said he, you would have it so. I have failed in my duty at the most important crisis of my life. What I feared is come to pass. The battle was given, my regiment charged, and performed wonders of valour, and I was not at its head. I ain dishonoured for ever—lost without risk—I have but one sacrifice more to make you, which I am come to consummate. At these words I pressed my dear husband in my arms. I felt my blood congeal in my shivering heart. I fainted dead away. He took that opportunity to perpetrate his design; and I was called to life again by the report of the fatal pistol that gave him his death. How can I paint the cruel situation in which I was left! it cannot be described. These tears, that must for ever flow ; the sighs which suffocate my voice, give but a faint idea of my distress. I passed the night over the bloody corpse, quite stupified with grief. My first thoughts were, as soon as I was able, to bury it and my shame together. These hands dug his grave! I do not mean to move your compassionate heart—But the moment in which the earth was to separate me from that dear remains, was a thousand times more dreadful than can be that which divides the body from the soul. Depressed with grief, deprived of food, my feeble hands were two days employed in performing this last sad duty ; and I then formed a determined resolution, to remain in solitude till death unite us. (Jnawing hunger preyed upon my vitals, and I thought myself criminal in preventing nature from supporting a life more insupportable to me than death. I changed my dress for that of a simple shepherdess; and X look upon this valley as my �1® The Shepherdess of the Alps„ only asylum. Ever since I have had no other comfort, but that of weeping over this grave, which I hope will soon be my own, " You see with what sincerity I open to you my inmost soul.—Henceforth I may weep in your presence without restraint—a relief my overburdened heart stands much in need o f — I expect you will put the same confidence in me, as that I have reposed in you.—Don't imagine that I am imposed upon. I am certain that you are 110 more a shepherd, than I am a shepherdess. You are young, perhaps in love ; for if I guess aright, our misfortunes flow from the same source. The similitude of our conditions will make us feel the more for each other. I look upon you as one whom heaven, moved with my afflictions, has sent into this solitude to save me from despair. I look upon you as a sincere friend, capable of giving, if not satisfactory advice, at least a firm example of true resignation to the Divine will." A h ! madam, said Fonrose, overwhelmed with what he heard, whatever tender sensibility my heart is prone to feel, you are far from imagining with what deep concern the recital of your woes has affected me—-the impression will remain as long as life. What! must I have a secret, nay, even a thought reserved from you— from you, who have a right, after what you have entrusted me with, to scrutinize my very soul ? But as I told you before, and as my foreboding heart apprehended, such is the nature of my woes, that I am doomed to conceal them in eternal silence. Be not offended, charming friend, at a silence which is my greatest torment. You are very unhappy: but I am more unhappy still. I'll be your constant companion: I'll endeavour to mitigate your sorrows, and help to ease you in an employment too laborious for your delicate frame. Let me be a partaker of your grief; and when I behold you weeping over the tomb, I shall mix my tears with yours. You never will have cause to reptfnt having deposited your secret in an unfortunate heart, that feels all the value of its trust. I do repent it already, said Adelaide, �The Shepherdess of the Alps. 19 with some confusion, and retired without further discourse. In her abrupt departure, she saw in Fonrose's countenance all the marks of an affected mind. Alas! said she, I have renewed his sufferings. 0 what sufferings they must be that can give him grounds, to think himself more unhappy than I am ? No more music, no more conversation. They neither seemed to seek nor shun each other. Looks that spoke their thoughts were all their language-*—it was very expressive. When he found her weeping over her husband's grave, he beheld her in mute attention, full of jealousy, grief, and pity, till her groans were echoed by his. A few days were past in this painful conflict, when Adelaide took notice how the young man wasted away, like a blooming flower just blasted by some malignant planet. The grief that consumed him gave her much concern, as not being entrusted with what occasioned his trouble, it was out of her power to administer any comfort. She little knew that she was the cause of his distress. It is an observation founded on nature, that when the soul admits of two passions, they will of course weaken each other. Adelaide's regret for the love of Oreston grew less in proportion as her pity increased for the young shepherd. She was sure that her pity proceeded from no motive, but what the most innocent friendship suggested ; nor did ever it occur not to give way to i t ; for seeing the youth plunged in so settled a melancholy, she thought it incumbent on her, after what she had professed for him, not to leave him any longer to himself. Unhappy youth ! said she, the first time they met after her resolve, you perish daily, and give me the fruitless concern of beholding you consume away, and not be able to afford you any comfort. If the recital of my imprudent conduct has not altered your opinion of me ; if the most sincere friendship is dear unto you ; in short, if it will not make me more unhappy than I was before our acquaintance, tell me, I conjure you? the cause of your afflictions. Was your �20 The Shepherdessof•the Alps. secret yet more important than mine ? You need not apprehend that I will ever divulge it. Oreston's death is an eternal barrier betwixt the world and me. The secret of your woe, which I desired to be acquainted with, and for your sake, not for mine, would have been deposited in my husband's tomb, with his faithful widow, and your sincere friend. I hope, said Fonrose, it will be my fate to die first. A h ! madam, let me end my deplorable life, without leaving you to reproach yourself with having shortened it. 0 heavens ! she cried, what, I ? Can I have contributed to increase the woes under which you perish. Ease my tortured heart, and tell me what I have said, what I have done to aggravate your affliction! Speak, I say, you have revealed too much to hide yourself any longer—I do insist upon knowing who you are. Since you will force from me so peremptorily the fatal secret, know that I am—that I am Fonrose, the son of those you lately filled with admiration and respect. All that I have heard them relate of your virtue and your charms, inspired me with the rash design of seeing you under this disguise. I have seen you, and my fate is fixed. I have left my family in the deepest distress. They think that I am for ever lost: they lament my death. I know what is your attachment here ; and I have no other hope but to die adoring you. Forbear to give me any useless advice : my resolution is as immoveable as your own. If by betraying my confidence you divulge my secret, you will only disturb the last ebbings of my declining life, and will have to impute my death to yourself. Astonished at what she had heard, Adelaide endeavoured to soothe young Fonrose's despair. I will restore him, said she, to his afflicted parents, and save their only hope from death. Heaven has procured me this opportunity to acknowledge their goodness: wherefore she diligently employed every means the most insinuating friend could suggest to calm and comfort him. Sweet angel! cried Fonrose, I see with what reluctance you are forced to make any one wretched ; your �The Shepherdess of the Alps. 21 heart is devoted to him that lies in that tomb, no power on earth can draw it away; I see with what condescension your virtue attempts to veil your unhappiness; I feel your goodness in full extent; I sink under it, and I forgive you. Your duty is never to love me, and mine is to adore you for ever. Adelaide, impatient to put in execution the design she had formed, arrived at the hut. Father, said she, to the old Pastor, do you think yourself able to undertake a journey to Turin ? I want a person that I can rely on, to carry the Count and Countess Fonrose intelligence of what concerns their whole happiness. My zeal, said the old man, to serve them, will give me strength equal to my inclination. Go, then, continued she, you will find them at present lamenting the death of their only child. Inform them that he is living ; and that it is the poor Adelaide that will restore him to their arms. But at the same time tell them, there is an indispensible necessity of their coming in person to fetch him. He set out immediately, and arrived at the Count's house in Turin. He sent in word, that the old man of the valley of Savoy was come to wait on them. A h ! cried the Countess, perhaps some misfortune has befallen our lovely shepherdess! Bid the old man enter, said the Count; who knows but Adelaide consents to come and live with us! It would be, replied the Countess, the only comfort I can taste after the loss of my son. The old man is introduced, he embraced their knees—they raise him to their arms. You weep, said he, for the death of your son, and I am come to inform you, that he is alive. It is our dear child that has discovered him in the valley, and dispatched me to communicate to you this interesting news ; but she says that yourselves, and only you, can bring him back. Whilst he was speaking, the Countess fainted away, overcome with surprise and joy. The Count calls for assistance. She revives. They embrace the old shepherd by turns, and acquaint the whole family with the subject of their transport. How shall we show our �The Shepherdess of theAlps.22 gratitude ? said the Countess. How can we requite a benefaction that restores us to life ? They set out immediately on tlieir journey, and arrived with the greatest expedition. They left their equipage at some distance, and walked to the hut through the valley that contained all that was dear to them. Adelaide was tending the flock, as usual. The old dame conducted them to the place where she was. How great was their surprise, when they beheld their beloved son with the shepherdess, under the habit of a simple pastor! Their hearts discovered him more than their eyes. Ah! cruel child, cried Fonrose's mother, throwing her arms about his neck, what trouble you have given us. What could induce you to leave your affectionate parents ? What is your business here? To adore what you yourself so much admired, said Fonrose. Madam, said Adelaide, whilst Fonrose embraced his father's knees, you would not so long have been a prey to grief, had I discovered sooner your dear son. After the first effusions of nature were over, Fonrose relapsed into his former melancholy. Come, said the Countess, let us go and repose ourselves in the cabin, and forget the woes this young madman has plunged us in. It is very true, said Fonrose, to his father, who led him by the hand; what else but the deprivation of my reason could suspend the emotions of nature, and make me forget the most sacred duties ? What but madness ? You innocently gave rise to it, and I am sincerely punished, for I am in love with the most amiable and accomplished person in the world. You have seen but little of her ; you know but little of this incomparable lady. Honour, virtue, and sensibility! she unites all that is great and good. I dote upon her to idolatry. I cannot be happy without her, and she never can be' mine. Has she trusted you, said the Count, with the secret of her birth ? I have learned enough, replied Fonrose, to assure you it is not inferior to mine. She has renounced a considerable fortune in the world, to remain in this solitude. Do you know what motive has induced her to it? I do ; In; t is a secret which �The Shepherdess of the Alps. she alone can reveal, Is she married ? No ; she is a widow ; but her heart is not the less engaged, nay, it is rather bound with stronger chains. Madam, said the Count to Adelaide, as they had entered the cabin, you see how you turn the heads, as well as captivate all that bear the name of Fonrose. Nothing could have justified my son's extravagant passion, but so virtuous, so loving an object. My wife's utmost wishes were to have you for a friend; my son cannot live without you for a wife; and it would he my greatest happiness to have you for a daughter. Oh! consider how many that love you would be wretched, if you refuse your consent. A h ! sir, replied Adelaide, your goodness perplexes me: lend me awhile your attention, and judge my situation. She then, in the presence of the old folks, related her sad story, adding the name of the family, which the Count was well acquainted with; and she finished ner narration by taking him for a witness of the inviolable fidelity she owed her husband. At these words a consternation appeared in their looks. Young Fonrpse, bursting with grief, threw himself into a corner of the hut, to give vent £p his sorrows. His afflicted father laid himself down by him, casting his eyes on Adelaide. Madam, said he, behold the effect of your resolution. The Countess pressing her in her bosom, A h ! will you, then, said she, give us cause to lament a second time the death of our clear child! Why did you restore him to us! The gpod pld people, penetrated with what they saw and heard, their eyes fixed on Adelaide, waited for her determination. Heaven knows, says she, I would willingly give up my life to acknowledge all this unbounded generosity. I own it would be the height of misery, if I had to upbraid myself of having been the cause of yours. I leave the decision of pur fate to your son—let me have a few minutes' conversation with him. Then retiring by themselves, Fonrose, said she, you know what sacred rites bind me here. If I could cease to lament the loss of him who loved and doted on me even beyond discretion, I §hofj}$ be deservedly despised. �21 The Shepherdess of the Alps. 21 Friendship, gratitude, and esteem, are all I have left to give; and is that a compensation for love ? The more you have conceived for me, the more right you have to expect a suitable return, and what return can I make ? The impossibility of performing that duty is the object that prevents my making myself liable to it; nevertheless, I behold you all in a situation that would soften the most obdurate heart. Mine, alas! is but too sensible, I cannot bear the shocking thought of being the cause of your distress. How can I hear your generous, worthy parents, reproach me with their loss. I will, therefore, forget for a while what I am, and leave you to be the arbitrator of my destiny. It is yours to decide, and choose which is most agreeable to you, either to conqueij/ your passion, and strive to forget me, or take the hanct of one whose heart is possessed by another object)' has nothing to bestow but friendship and esteem—ancfc what are they to satisfy a lover's ardent expectations ? : It is enough, replied he, tenderly, such exalted friend- | ship equals love. I may, perhaps, be jealous of tlieA I tears I shall see you shed for a former husband, but the: ] cause of my jealousy will only make you more estimable in my eyes, and dearer to my soul. She is mine ! cried Fonrose, precipitating himself into his fond parents' arms. It is to the respect and gratitude she has for you' that I owe my happiness, and it is owing to a superior Being. Adelaide could not appeal from the sentence. Did she consent merely through pity and gratitude ? I Jelieve she did—she believed it herself, and I will not cease to admire her. Before she left the valley, she would revisit the tomb,, j which she quitted with regret. 0 my dear Oreston, ; she cried, if from the mansions of the dead thou cam 4 have seen my struggles, and read the bottom of my heart, thy shade will not murmur at the sacrifice I make to comfort a virtuous family. THE END. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 027: Title-page illustration of a man in a small boat. A village can be seen in the background. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Shepherdess of the Alps, a very interesting, pathetic, and moral history. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953134493505154">s0231b06</a> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #16 in a bound collection of 20 chapbooks Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Briancon, Hautes-Alpes, France Modena, Italy Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Type The nature or genre of the resource moral tales Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Religion and Morals Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/cb7da2b1cb97afcd341c523e895e8684.jpg 253d8cc320121e956d2664e16c3c8b02 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3326 Width 1900 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/22294dc4734fd256d61175a410f4fb6a.pdf e51e7b730b79ec990e598614f469f43b PDF Text Text ��STORY OF PRINCE LUPIN AND THE WHITE CAT. —«=»e@IOI©e<=*— A CERTAIN king had three sons, all handsome, brave, and fine young gentlemen; but being suspicious that they had formed a design to deprive him of his crown, he thought of a method to divert them from their intended purpose. Having called them one day into his closet, he spoke to them as follows : — u My sons, I am now come to a great age, and cannot apply myself to public affairs with so much care as formerly; therefore I intend to resign my crown to one of you: but, as it is but right to require some proof of your abilities, in order to determine which is the most worthy of so valuable a present, I propose and promise, that he who shall bring me the most beautiful little dog shall immediately take possession of my throne." �4 The three princes readily agreed to this proposal, each concluding himself most likely to succeed in fulfilling this extraordinary request. After taking leave of the king they set out, with orders to return that day twelvemonth with dogs. Each took a different road, without any attendants; but we shall leave the two eldest at present, and confine our story to the youngest. This accomplished prince, as he was more desirous to show his duty to his father than to become a king, was more fortunate in his undertaking than either of the others. One night, having travelled till it was very late, and being overtaken by a storm in a large forest, he discovered a light at a distance, and, pursuing his journey with all speed, he arrived at a most stately castle, the gates of which were of massy gold, and the walls of fine china, whereon were painted the histories of all the fairies that ever appeared on earth. A t the door hung a chain of diamonds, with a deer's foot at the end; on pulling which, the prince heard a bell of so pleasing a sound, that he concluded it to be made of gold or silver. Immediately the door opened, and twelve hands, each holding a flambeau, gently conducted him into a haD of motherof-pearl, and from thence through a vast variety of chambers, all richly covered with paintings and jewels. The beauty �5 of these ornaments was greatly heightened by a number of lights, that hung* from the ceiling in glass sconces of exquisite workmanship. After having passed through sixty apartments, a fine easy chair moved towards him of its own accord; the fire lighted itself, and the hands pulled off his clothes, which had been drenched in the storm, and dressed him in others so extraordinarily fine and rich, that it dazzled his sight to behold himself. While the prince was in the utmost astonishment at this uncommon adventure, he saw a multitude of cats enter the room, and seat themselves on the bench. One held a music-book, and some played on instruments, while others beat time. In the midst of this concert, a small figure came forward in a mourning veil, led by two cats in black cloaks, and followed by a long train of cats, some with rats, and others with mice, in their mouths. The young prince was so surprised, that he had not power to move; when the little figure, lifting up its veil, discovered the prettiest white cat that ever was seen. " Prince," said she, " b e not afraid, but give me your company with cheerfulness. It shall be the ambition of me and all my mewing attendants to give you pleasure." On a signal given, supper was brought in; but the prince at first declined eating, �till tho White Cat, guessing the reason, assured him that there were no rats nor mice in any thing that was set before him. As the prince was admiring this beautiful cat, he observed a small picture hanging upon her foot. He asked her to show it him; and how great was his surprise to see a charming young man very much resembling himself! yet, observing the White Cat to sigh, he was afraid at that time to satisfy his curiosity concerning it, and so endeavoured to divert her by entertaining conversation, in which he found her to be extremely sensible, and acquainted with every thing that passed in the world. He slept every night in an apartment hung with tapestry made of the wings of butterflies, on a bed of the most delicious flowers, and every day was spent in the most delightful amusement. In this manner almost a year slipped away insensibly; and the prince entirely forgot his native home and the little dog he was to carry to his father. But the White Cat knew when he was to return; and one day, as they were walking together in a grove near the palace, " Do you remember, prince," said she, " t h e promise you made your father? Your brothers have already procured some curious little dogs, and there remain but three days for you to find one more beautiful, or lose a kingdom." These �s words awoke the prince from his dream of pleasure. " Alas !" cried he, u what have I been doing ? My honour is lost for ever." — " D o not afflict yourself/' said the White Cat; " I will find a horse that will carry you home in less than twelve hours. And as for the little dog, take this acorn, in which there is one: put it to your ear, and you will hear it bark." The prince did so, and, transported with pleasure, thanked her a thousand times. Bidding her farewell, he mounted the wooden horse, and arrived at his father's palace just as his brothers entered the courtyard. He ran to embrace them, and all three went together to the king.— The two eldest presented their dogs, which were so equally beautiful, that it was impossible to know in whose favour to determine. But the youngest soon put an end to the debate; for, pulling the acorn out of his pocket and opening it, they saw a little dog lying on cotton, so small that it might go through a ring; it was of a mixtur of colours, and its ears reached the ground. The king was convinced that nothing coul d be met with so beautiful; but, being unwilling yet to part with his crown, he told 1 children, that he must make a further trial of their love and diligence before he performed his promise: they must take another �£ year to find out a web of cloth fine enough to go through the eye of a small needle. This request, though unjust, they thought it best to comply with: and our prince mounted his wooden horse, and returned with speed to his White Cat, on which alone he depended for assistance. He found her laid on a quilt of white satin. A s soon as she saw him, she expressed the utmost j o y ; while the prince caressed her in the most tender manner, and told her the success of his journey. The White Cat redoubled her efforts to render the prince more happy, if possible, than he had been before. He wished for nothing but the hands which brought it to him; and the second year rolled away so fast, that the prince would again have forgot his orders, had not the White Cat reminded him thereof; u But make yourself perfectly easy concerning the web," said she, u for I have one wonderfully fine. Take this walnut; be sure to crack it in your father's presence, and you will find in it such a web as you want." The prince thanked her in the most grateful manner; and was presently carried by the wooden horse to his father's palace, where his brothers had got before him. I They pulled out their webs, which were exceeding fine, and would go through the eye of a larro needle, but could not be made to �9 pass through the eye of a small one. The king was going to avail himself of this pretext, when the youngest prince unexpectedly entered, and produced a walnut, which he cracked. Finding only a kernel of wax, the king and all present ridiculed him for thinking to find a web of cloth in a nut. However, he broke the kernel, and saw in it a corn of wheat, and in that a grain of millet-seed: he then opened the millet-seed, and, to the utter astonishment and confusion of all the beholders, drew out a web of cloth four hundred yards long. The needle was brought, and the web was put through the eye of it five or six time? with the greatest ease. The king fetched a deep sigh, and turning towards his sons, " M y children," said he, " I am still desirous of putting you to a new trial: go for another year; and he that brings me the most beautiful damsel, shall marry her and be crowned king; and I swear most solemnly, that I will require no other proof of your filial affection and discretion." Our sweet prince heard this tyrannic command without a murmur; and, * remounting his courser, flew to his dear White Cat; which, knowing the moment of his return, was prepared to receive him in the golden gallery. u Prince," said she, "the king I find, has refused you the crown; �10 however, I hope you will take care to deserve it, and I will provide you with a beautiful damsel who will gain the prize." The prince grew more and more fond of her; and in her abode enjoyed every magnificent entertainment that fancy could invent.—When this last year was near expired, the White Cat thus addressed him, " I f you are sensible of the favours I have conferred upon you, now is the time to make me amends. Do not hesitate, but cut off my head and tail, and throw them into the fire." Tears started from the prince's eyes at this request, and he was going several times to refuse; but the White Cat insisted upon it so earnestly, that at last, with a trembling hand, he chopped off her head and tail, and threw them accordingto order into the fire. In an instant the bodyofthe White Cat was changed into themostbeautiful lady that ever was seen, and immediately a great number of gentlemenand ladies, holding their cats' skins over their shoulders, came and fell prostrate at her feet, crying, u Long live our gracious queen ! How great is our joy to see her once more in her natural shape!" The prince was glad beyond description to behold so charming a creature, but could not help expressing an earnest desire to know the cause of this surprising transformation. u Restrain �11 your curiosity/1 says the lovely queen, " till we arive at your father's court, where I am now ready to accompany you, and where I will relate my unheard-of misfortunes. Come, see, the carnage waits.' So saying, she gave her hand to the prince, who led her into a chariot, the inside of which was fine velvet, set with brilliants, the outside gold; and the horses' harness was made of emeralds. Away they flew, and were presently at the gates of the king's palace, where the two eldest princes were already arrived with their two princesses, in fine calashes of blue, embossed with gold. The courtiers crowded to present these three illustrious couples to the king. The two eldest princes with their ladies advanced first, and were received very graciously by the monarch, who declared they had brought him two such beauties, that he knew not to which he should give the preference; but the moment the youngest approached with his queen, both full of grace and dignity, the king* cried out in ecstacy, cc This is the incomparable beauty, whose worth and excellence claims and deserves my crown!"—" I came not to rob vou of your crown/' answered the discreet queen; " I was born heiress to six kingdoms. Give me leave to present one of them to you, and one to each of your sons; for which I �ask no other return than this amiable prince in marriage," The king and all the court were struck with joy at this declaration; and the nuptials were celebrated the same day with great magnificence. Never were a pair more happy; and the young prince, to the last moment of his life, blessed the accident that led him to the abode of the sweet White Cat, �13 T H E Y E L L O W DWARF. T H E R E was once a queen, who, though she had born many children, had but one daughter left alive, of whom she was fond to an excess, humouring and indulging her in all her ways and wishes. This princess was exceedingly beautiful, so that she was called All-Fair, and had twenty kings courting her at one time. Her mother, being advanced in years, would fain have had her married and settled before she died, but no entreaties could prevail; whereupon she determined to go to the Desert Fairy to ask advice concerning her stuborn daughter. Now, this fairy being guarded by two fierce lions, the queen made a cake of millet, sugarcandy, and crocodiles' eggs, in order to appease their fury and pass by them; and having thus provided herself, she set out. After traveling some time, she found herself weary, and, lying down under a tree, fell asleep. When she awoke, she heard the lions which guarded the fairy roaring, upon which, looking for her cake, she found it was gone. This threw her into the utmost agony, not knowing how to save herself �14 from being devoured by them; when, hearing somebody cry, " Hem! hem ! " she lifted up her eyes, and beheld a little yellow man on a tree, half a yard high, picking and eating oranges, " Ah ! queen," said the yellow Dwarf, (for so he was called on account of his complexion, and the orange-tree he lived in) " h o w will you escape the lions? There is but one w a y : I know what business brought you here! promise me your daughter in marriage, and I will save you," The queen thought she could not but look upon so frightful a figure with horror, yet was forced to consent; where upon she instantly found herself in her own palace, and all that had passed seemed only as a dream ; nevertheless, she was so throughly persuaded of the realty of it, that she became melancholy. Theyoung princess being unable to learn the cause of her dejection, resolved to go and inquire of the Desert Fairy; and, accordingly, having prepared a cake for the lions, she also set off for her abode. It happened that All-Fair took exactly the same rout her mother had done before her; and coming to the fatal tree, which was loaded with oranges, she had a mind to pick some ! therefore, setting down her basket wherein she carried the cake,she plentifully �1 15 indulged herself. The lions now began to roar, when All-Fair, looking for her cake, was thrown into the utmost trouble on finding it gone. As she was lamenting her deplorable situation, the Yellow Dwarf presented himself to her with these words:— u Lovely princess, dry up your tears, and hear what I am going to say: You need not proceed to the Desert Fairy to know the reason of your mother's indisposition, she is ungenerous enough to repent of having promised you, her adorable daughter, to me in marriage."—"How!" interrupted the princess; 66 my mother promised me to you in marriage! you! such a fright as you!" — " Nay, none of your scoffs," returned thr Yellow Dwarf, (C 1 wish you not to stir up my anger: if you will promise to marry me, I will be the tenderest and most loving husband in the world—if not, save yourself from the lions if you can." In short, the princess was forced to give her word that ^she would have him, but with such agony 'of mind, that she fell into a swoom; and when she recovered, she found herself in her own bed, finely adorned with ribbons, and a ring of a single red hair so fastened round her finger that it could not be got off. This adventure had the same effect upon All-Fair as the former had upon her mother. She grew melancholy, which was remarked �16 and wondered at by the whole court. The.-best way to divert her, they thought, would be to urge her to marry; which the prin- g cess, who was now become less obstinate on y^ that point than formerly, consented to; and, „ thinking' that such a pigmy as the Yellow aj. Dwarf would not dare to contend with so ' gallent a person as the K i n g of the Golden^ Mines, she fixed upon this king for her husband, who was exceedingly rich and ou powerful, and loved her to distraction. The 0 f most superb preparations were made for s u the nuptials, and the happy day was fixed f cj. when, as they were proceeding to the cere- } a mony, they saw moving towards them a s o box, whereon sat an old woman remarkable <1, for her ugliness.—" Hold queen and prin- j| cess," cried she, knitting her brows, " re- f 0 member the promises you both made to my c. friend the Yellow Dwarf. I am the Desert 0 j Fairy, and if All-Fair does not marry him, I swear by my coif, I will burn my crutch." C( The queen and princess were struck motion- p less by this unexpected greeting* of thej tj F a i r y ; but the Prince of the Golden Mines was exceedingly wroth; and, holding his Si sword to her throat, u F l y wretch !" said ti he, or thy malice shall cost thee thy life." V No sooner had he uttered these words, thai, h the top of the box flying off, out came the I Yellow Dwarf, mounted upon a large,a i 7 ti i �rhs ul<| 17 Spanish cat, who placing himself between on the king and the fairy, uttered these words: nd:, " Rash youth, thy rage should be levelled low at me, noc at the Desert F a i r y ; I am thy so rival, and claim her by promise, and a single den hair round her finger." her This so enraged the king, that he cried and out, contemptible creature! wert thou worthy Che of notice, I would sacrifice thee for thy prefor sumption," Whereupon the Yellow Dwarl ed; clapping spurs to his cat, and drawing a sre- "arg.e cutlass, defied the king to combat; and 1 a so they went into the court-yard. The sun ible then immediately turned red as blood, and rin- it became dark: thunder and lightning re- followed, by the flashes whereof were permy ceived to giants vomiting fire on each side sert f the Yellow Dwarf. im, The king behaved with such undaunted courage as to give the Dwarf great perionbut was dismayed, when he saw th^the Desert Fairy, mounted on a winged inesr griffin, with her head covered with snakes, his strike the princess so heard with a lance, said that she fell into the queen's arms all over ife." with blood. He left the combat to go to haiL her relief; but the dwarf was to quick for the him, and, flying on his Spanish cat to the balcony where she was, lie took her from her mother's arms, leaped with her upon �the top of the palace, and immediately disappeared. I As the king* stood confused and astonished at this strange adventure, he suddenly found a mist before his eyes, and himself lifted up in the air by some extraordinary power: for the Desert Fairy had fallen in love with! him. To secure him for herself, therefore, she carried him to a frightful cavern, hoping he would there forget All-Fair, and tried many artifices to complete her designs. But finding this scheme ineffectual, she resolved to carry him to a place altogether as pleasant as the other was terrible; and accordingly set him by herself in a chariot drawn by swans. In passing through the air, he had. the unspeakable surprise to see his adored princess in a castle of polished steel, leaning her head on one hand, and wiping away the tears with the other. She happened to look up, and had the mortification to see the king sitting by the fairy , who then; by her art, made herself appear extremely beautiful/ Had not the king been sensible of the fairy's power, he would certainly then have tried to free himself from her. At last they came to a stately palace, fenced on one side by walls of emeralds, and on the other by a boisterous sea. The king, by pretending to be in lovaH with the fairy, obtained liberty to walk by �JL J himself on the shore; and, as he was one day invoking the powers of the sea, he heard a voice, and presently after was surprised with the appearance of a Mermaid, which, coming up with a pleasant smile, spoke these words : — " O K i n g of the Golden Mines, I well know all that has passed in regard to you and the fair princess. Don't suspect this to be a contrivance of the fairy's to try you, for I am an inveterate enemy both to her and the Yellow dwarf; therefore, if you will have confidence in me, I will lend you my assistance to procure the release not only of yourself, but of All-Fair also." The overjoyed king promised to do whatever the Mermaid bade him; whereupon, setting him upon her tail, they sailed away on a rolling sea. When they had sailed some time, " Now," said the Mermaid to the king, " w e direw near the place where your princess is kept by the Yellow Dwarf. You will have many enemies to fight before you can come to her; take, therefore, this sword, with which you may overcome every thing, provided you never let it go out of your hand." The king returned her all the thanks that the most grateful heart could suggest; and the Mermaid landed and took leave of him, promising him farther assistance when necessary. �20 The king boldly advanced, and meeting with two terrible sphinxes, laid them dead athis feetwith hissword. Next heattacked six dragons that opposed him, and despatched them also. Then he met with four and twenty nymphs, with garlands of flowers, at sight of whom he stopped, beingloath to destroy so much beauty ; when he heard a voice say, " Strike! strike! or you will lose your princess for ever ! " upon which he threw himself in the midst of them, and soon dispersed them. He now came in view of All-Fair, and, hastening to her, exclaimed, " O my princess, behold your faithful lover!" But she, drawing back, replied, "Faithful lover! Did I not see you passing through the air with abeautiful nymph ? Were you faithful then ? " " Y e s , " replied the king, " I was. That was the detested Desert Fairy, who was carrying me to a place where I must have languished out all my days, had it not been for a kind Mermaid, by whose assistance it is that I am now come to release you." So saying, he cast himself at her feet; but, catching hold of her gown, unfortunately let go the magic sword: which the Yellow Dwarf no sooner discovered, than, leaping from behind a shrub where he had been concealed, he ran and seized it. By two cabalistcal words he then conjured up two giants, who �f | r l I 1 x I laid the king in irons. u Now," said the dwarf, " m y rival's fate is in my own hands; however, if he will consent to my marriage, he shall have his life and liberty." u No," said the king, " 1 scorn thy favour on such terms;" which so provoked the dwarf, that he instantly stabbed him to the heart. The disconsolate princess, aggravated to the last degree at such barbarity, thus vented her g r i e f : — " Thou hideous creature, since entreaties could not avail thee, perhaps thou now reliest upon force; but thou shalt be di-sappointed, and thy brutal soul shall know perpetual mortification from the mo'ment I tell the I die for thee love I have for the King of the Golden Mines !" And so saying, she sunk down upon his body, and expired without a sigh. Thus ended the fate of these two faithful lovers, which the Mermaid very much regretted; but, all her power lying in the sword, she could only change them into two i^almtrees; which, preserving a constant mutual affection for each other, caress and unite their branches together. \ �22 fHE THREE WISHES. T H E R E was once a man, not very rich, who had a very pretty woman to his wife. One winter's evening, as they sat by the fire, they talked of the happiness of their neighbours, who were richer than they. Said the wife, " If it were in my power to have what < I wish, I should soon be happier than all of them." " So should I too," said the husband; " I wish we had fairies now, and that one of them was kind enough to grant me what I should ask." A t that instant they saw a very beautiful lady in their room, who said to them, " I am a fairy; and I promise to grant to you the three first things 1 you shall wish; but take care—after having wished for three things, I will not grant one wish further." The fairy disappeared; and the man and his wife were much perplexed. u For my own part, said the wife, " i f it ;rere left to my choice I know very well what I should wish for: I do not wish yet, ! but I think nothing is so good as to be J handsome, rich, and to be of great quality." But the husband answered, " With all these tilings one may be sick and fretful, and one may die young: it would be much wiser to wish for health, cheerfulness, and long life." " But to what purpose is long life with po* �verty ?" says the wife: " it would only prolong your misery. In truth, the fairy should have promised us a dozen of gifts, for there are at least a dozen things which I want." " That may be true," said the husband; " b u t let us take time; let us consider till morning the three things which are most necessary for us, and then wish." < " H I think all night," said the wife; "meanwhile let us warm ourselves, for it is very cold.", At the same time the wife took the tongs to mend the fire; and seeing there were a great many coals thoroughly lighted, she said without thinking on it, " Here's a nice fire; I wish we had a yard of black pudding for our supper; we could dress it 1 easily." She had hardly said these words, when down came tumbling through the 1 chimney a yard of black pudding. ' 6 Plague on your greedy guts with your black pud1 ding!" said the husband : "here's a fine wish indeed! Now we have only two left; I for my part I am so vexed, that I wish the black pudding fast to the tip of your nose." \ ; The man soon perceived he was sillier than his wife; for, at this second wish, up starts the black pudding, and sticks so fast to the tip of the poor wife's nose, there was no means to take it of. c 6 Wretch that I am !" cried she; "you are a wicked man for wishing the pudding fast to my nose." " My �24 dear, "answered the husband, " X vow I did not think of it; but what shall we do? I am about wishing for vast riches, and propose to make a golden case to hide the pudding." " Not at all," answered the wife; " f o r I should kill myself, were I to live with this pudding dangling at my nose : be persuaded, we have still one wish to make; leave it to me, or I shall instantly throw myself out of the window." With this she ran and opened the window; but the husband, who loved his wife, called out, " Hold, my dear wife! I give you leave to wish for what you will." " Well," said the wife, " m y wish is that this pudding may drop off." A t that instant the pudding dropped off; and the wife, who did not want wit, said to her husband; " T h e fairy has imposed upon us; she was in the right; possibly we should have been more unhappy with riches than we are at present. Believe me, friend, let us wish for nothing, and take things as it shall please God to send them : in the mean time, let us sup upon our pudding, since that's all that remains to us of our wishes." The husband thought his wife judged right; they supped merrily, and never gave themselves further trouble about the things which they had designed to wish for, 2TINIS. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 027: Title-page illustration of a man in a small boat. A village can be seen in the background. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Storys of Prince Lupin, Yellow Dwarf, and the Three Wishes. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923423433505154">s0118b16</a> Description An account of the resource 7 printed at the bottom of the title-page Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Yellow Dwarf The Three Wishes Story of Prince Lupin and the White Cat Abstract A summary of the resource. This chapbook contains three popular fairy tales, including Prince Lupin and the White Cat, The Yellow Dwarf, and the Three Wishes. The first tale follows the adventures of the youngest son of a king who has instructed his sons to find him various fantastical objects in order to determine who should inherit the kingdom, including a beautiful dog, a web of cloth fine enough to pass through the eye of a needle, and a beautiful young woman. The youngest son finds help in procuring these objects, as well as his own happiness, at the court of a white cat who is actually an enchanted queen herself. The Yellow Dwarf, tells the fantastical tale of All-Fair, a beautiful princess who won’t settle down, so her mother decides to seek the advice of the Desert Fairy. On the way, she loses the cakes she had brought to distract the lions guarding the fairy, but a Yellow Dwarf appears and promises to save her in exchange for All-Fair’s hand in marriage. She agrees but becomes melancholy after these events, which causes All-Fair to follow the same path as her mother, falling into the same trap with the Dwarf, whom she agrees to marry. When she repents her choice, she decides to agree to marry the King of the Golden Mines instead, but the Desert Fairy and the Yellow Dwarf arrive suddenly on supernatural steeds and battle with the King who is defeated. The Dwarf takes the princess home, and the Desert Fairy takes the king, who she has fallen in love with, but the King escapes with the help of a Mermaid. Bearing a magical sword given to him by the mermaid, the King defeats a variety of foes in an attempt to rescue All-Fair, but is ultimately defeated and killed. All-Fair dies of grief and the mermaid changes both of their bodies into a pair of palm trees. The Three Wishes is a short tale at the end of the chapbook that reminds the readers to ‘be careful what you wish for.’ In this tale, a fairy promises a married couple that the next three things that they wish for will be granted. After arguing about what to wish for, they agree to wait ‘til morning to decide. Forgetting the specific nature of the fairy’s instructions, they end up accidentally using up their wishes in a series of ridiculous requests, which eventually leads them to realize that it is best to be happy with what you have in life. Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 15 cm Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks Subject The topic of the resource Courtship and Marriage Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource fairytale/folk lore supernatural & ghost stories