1 10 1 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/37612a07cf6f7236810b0f4742f97443.jpg fa8a33e42102afe71bd8251c4cbf12f9 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 on title-page portraying a bull charging a man on rocky terrain https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/675f04f5a6d5dadd02d401394f2dd5c0.pdf 2c78690376c26d798f2bbefa6419abae PDF Text Text STORYS OF THE THREE BEGGARS SOLDIER'S WIFE, AND JACK EASY, GLASGOW PRINTED FOR TIIE BOOKSELLERS, ��THE THREE BEGGARS. THREE blind beggars were on their way from Cornpiegne, to seek alms in the neighbourhood. They kept the high road to Seal is, and walked at a great pace, each holding a cup and stick in his hand. A young ecclesiastic, well mounted, who was riding towards Compiegne, and attended by a valet on horseback, was struck at a distance with their steady and rappid strides. " Those fellows," said he, " for men who appear blind, make very firm steps; PJ1 endeavour to find them out, and see if they are not impostors." Accordingly, as he came near them, and as the beggars, hearing the trampling of the horses' feet, had ranged themselves in a line to ask for charity, he called to them, and pretending to give them some money, but in reality giving them nothing, said :— 66 There is a besant; it is intended for you all three; and you will divide it between you." " Yes, your reverence; and may God bless you in return for it!" Although no one of them received the �4 money? yet each was confident his comrade had got it. Thus, after many thanks and good wishes to the horseman, they resumed their march, full of spirits; but at the same dme slackening their pace. The churchman feigned also to proceed on his journey: but at some distance he alighted, and delivering his horse to the care of his valet, directed him to wait his arrival at the gates of Compiegne : he then gently approached the beggars, and followed them, 10 watch the issue of the adventure. When they 110 longer heard the noise of horses, the leader of this little band halted. " Comrades," said he, " we have made a good day's work ; and I think we had best return to Compiegne, and spend the money this good christian hath given us. It is a long time since we have had a carousal: and now we have enough to enjoy ourselves completely, let us think of nothing but pleasure. On their arrival in town, they heard aery of u Good wine!—wine of Soisons!—wine of Auxerre !—lish and good fare! Walkin gentlemen ; pray walk in." They would not go any farther, but enter' d the first house; and after having cautioned the people not tojudge of their means by their outward appearance, (in the tone of men who derive confidence from the weight of their �5 purse) they desired that they might be served quickly and well. Nicholas (for that was the name of the landlord) being used sometimes to see persons of their vocation spend more than such as appear to be much more in affluent circumstances, received them respectfully. He showed them into his best dining-room; begged they would be seated, and order what they liked best; assuring them that there was nothing in Compiegne but what he could set before them, and in a style that would give them perfect satisfaction. They desired that plenty of good tilings mi^ht be got ready; and, instantly, master, waiter, maid, all in the house set about it. A neighbour was even sent for to assist. At length, by virtue of several hands and good speed, they contrived to serve up a good dinner of live dishes; and immediately the beggars sat down to it, laughing, singing, drinking to each other, and diverting themselves with clumsy jokes on the simple traveller who was at the expence of the feast. He had followed them with his valet to the inn, and was within hearing of the merriment.— He even resolved, that he might not lose any part of it, to dine and sup in a snug manner with the landlord. The beggars all this while occupied the best room, �,:nd were waited on like noblemen. Their mirth was thus prolonged till the night was pretty far advanced, when, to make a suitable close to so jovial a day, they each called ft/r a bed, and went to rest. The next morning the landlord, who wanted to get rid of them, sent his servant to call them up. When they were come down stairs, he made out their bill, which amounted to ten pence. That was the moment the mischievous churchman so impatiently expected. To enjoy the transaction more at his ease, he came and posted himself in a corner of the room, but without showing himself, least his presence might be a restraint on the guests. u Master," says the blind men to the landlord, ' ' we have a besant; take your account, and give us our change." He holds out his hand to receive it; and, ns no one offers it him, he asks them again, when each says, " It is not I." The landlord then gets into a passion.— u So, gentlemen vagrants, you think I am to serve here as a butt for your diversion. Be so good as to end all this mockery, and pay me immediately my ten-pence, otherwise I'll give you all three a drubbing." 1 hey then began to enquire of each other for the piece of money—to suspect each other's honesty—to call names—to quarrel; �7 ti!l at length such an uproar and confusion ensued, that the landlord, after giving each of them a box on the ear, called his servant to come down with two good sticks. The ecclesiastic all this while kept laughing in his hiding-place till he was ready to fall into convulsions. But when lie found the affair was becoming serious, and heard them talk of sticks, he came forward, and, with an air of surprise, asked the cause of the quarrel. " Sir, here are three knaves who came yesterday to consume my provisions ; and now I ask them for my due, they have the insolence to mock me. But, by all that's sacred, they shall not get off :n that manner, and before they go out ." " Softly, softly, master Nicholas," said the churchman, "these poor men have not wherewithal to pay you; and, in that case, they deserve rather your pity than your resentment. How much does their bill amount to?" " Ten-pence." " W h a t ! is it for so paltry a sum that you raise all this disturbance? Come, make yourselves easy; I will take it upon myself. And, for my part, what am I to pay you ?" "Five-pence, Sir." " That's enough. I shall pay you fifteenpence ; now let these unfortunate men go; �8 and know that to harass the poor is a sin of the first magnitude." The blind men, who were terrified at the apprehension of the bastinado, made their escape with all possible haste; while Nicholas, who had reckoned 011 losing his ten-pence^ (being delighted to find a person to pay it) launched out into the most flattering encomiums 011 the churchman. " What a good man !" cried he; " that is the kind of priests we should have, and then they would be respected. But, unfortunately, there are lew such ! Be assured, Sir, so handsome an action will not go unrewarded. You will prosper in the world, take my word for it; and will find the good effects of your generosity." All that the crafty traveller had been saying to his host, was but a fresh piece of roguery on his part; for, in luring the inn- . keeper with such ostentation of generosity, he only meant to trick him as he had already done the beggars. Just at that moment the parish-bell was ringing to prayers. He asked who was to perform the service: they told him it wa3 their parson. " As he is your pastor, master Nicholas," he further said, " you are mopt probably acquainted with him ? " Y e s , Sir." �9 " And if lie would engage to pay the fifteen-pence that I owe you, would you not acknowledge us quit ?" " Undoubtedly, Sir, if it were thirty, and you desired it." " Well then, come along with me to the church, and we will speak to him." They went out together; but first the ecclesiastic directed his valet to saddle the horses, and to keep them in readiness. The priest, as they entered the church, had just put on his sacerdotal habit, and was going- to read prayers. u This will keep us very long," said the traveller to his host; 6 6 1 have not time to wait, but must proceed immediately upon my journey. It will satisfy you, I should imagine, to have the parson's word for the money ?" Nicholas having nodded assent, the other went up to the parson, and dexterously slipping into his hand twelve deniers, said :— u Sir, you will pardon my coming so near the pulpit to speak to you; but much ceremony need not be observed between persons of the same condition. I am travelling through your town, and lodged last night at one of your parishioners', whom in all probability you know, and whom you may see hard by. He is a well-meaning man, honest, and entirely exempt f n m vice; but, unfor- �10 tunately, his head is not so sound as his heart; his brain is somewhat cracked: last night one of his fits of madness prevented us all from sleeping. He is a good deal better, thank God, this morning; nevertheless, as his head is still aliected, and full ol religion, he begged we would conduct him to church, and that he might hear you say a prayer, that the Lord may, in his good3iess, restore him to perfect health." " Most cheerfully," answered the parson. He then turned to his parishioner, and said to him, u Friend, wait till I have done the service, when I'll take care that you shall have what you desire." Nicholas, who thought this an ample assurance of what he went for, said 110 more : but attended the traveller back to his inn, wished him a good journey, and then returned to the church to receive his payment from the parson. The latter, as soon as he had performed the service, came with his stole and book towards the innkeeper. " Friend," said he, " go down upon your knees." The other, surprised at this preamble, observed that there was 110 occassion for such ceremony in receiving fifteen-pence. 66 Truly they are not mistaken," said the parson to himself; u this man cannot be in �11 his right senses." Then asuining a tone of soft insinuation, u Come, my good friend," said he, " place your trust in God; he will havre pity on your condition." At the same time he puts the Bible on thp other's head, and begins his prayer.— Nicholas, in anger, pushes away the book; declares he cannot stay to be trifled with, guests being waiting for him at his house; that he wants his fifteen-pence, and has no occasion for prayers. The priest, irritated at this, calls to Lie congregation, as they were going out KA church, and desires thern to seize the ma who was raving. " No, 110! 1 am not mad; and, by Si. Corneille, you shall not trick me in this manner. You engaged to pay me, and 1 will not leave this place till I get my money." " Seize him ! seize him!" cried the priest They accordingly lastened upon the poor devil; one taking hold of his arms, another of his legs, a third clasping him round the middle, while a fourth exhorted him to be composed. He makes violent efforts to gel out of their clutches, swears and foams with rage, like one possessed,—but all in vain ; for the parson puts the stole round his neck, and reads quickly his prayer from beginning to endj without excusing him a single word. - — tJ �After which he sprinkles him copiously with holy water, bestows on him a few benedictions, and lets him loose. The unlucky wight saw clearly that he had been made a dupe—He went home, overwhelmed with shame and vexation at the loss of his fifteen-pence ; but then he had in lieu of them, got a prayer and benediction. �13 THE SOLDIERS WIFE. WALDEN was playing on his flute in a slow and pensive strain, when the mournful cries of a child, and the complaining voice of a woman, struck his ears. 66 Oh ! merciful God ?" exclaimed the poor creature, u hear with compassion the moans of my unhappy babe !" Walden ceased to play, and looking over the hedge, he surveyed the child with compassion, as the woman lay on the grass to rest herself: he asked her, in a soft voice, why the poor infant cried. u He is hungry," replied the wroman, weeping bitterly, u we have not had anything to eat since yesterday morning." u Gracious God! since yesterday morning ! wait here a few minutes, and I will v eturn." He flew away with incredible swiftness, and re-appeared in a short time, with a bowl of milk and a small loaf, towards which the child stretched out his little arms, and the woman to whom he delivered them began to feed it. u Sit down my good woman, and eat of it �* 4 yourself," said Walden, u I will take jarcof your infant." Placing himself on the gTaS3 beside it, he dipped a bit of the loaf in tlie milk, and patiently assisted his little famished charge. The child looked up in his face and smiled: Walden, pleased and affected at this intuitive mark of gratitude, kissed its little forehead. u What is your occupation?" he asked the woman, who was eating with avidity; "you are, I suppose, the mother of this little creature : where do you live ?" u No, it is not my own," replied she, < -and I did not know its parents. I am the wife of a poor soldier, my worthy sir, and I have travelled from beyond Berlin a great way; my husband had been away from me three years, and I wanted to see him again—for I loved him dearly. My own two little children I left with their grandmother, and I sold every thing I did not absolutely want at home, that I might carry him a little trifle of money. Accordingly I set out, and got to the end of my journey just as my husband had marched with his corps to drive a party of Austrians from some little village; so when it was all over, and they had done what they had been ordered, 1 ran to the place to meet him." Here the poor woman burst into tears. �15 u And when I got there lie was dying of his wounds; yet he knew me, and stretched out his hand, saying, < Oh, Annete! our child r e n T h e s e were his last words; I thought I should have died too, but God willed, for the sake of our little ones and this babe, that I shoidd live. In the same house where my poor husband expired, was the wife of an Austrian soldier, who died two days afterwrards, and left this babe, which nobody on earth seemed to take care about. Almost all the village had been burned down, and all the inhabitants had run away; so that when our soldiers marched, I begged them to take the poor child with them ; but then they said to me, 6 What could wre do with it ?' and that was very true; but to let the child stay, and die with hunger, was impossible; so 1 resolved to take it, let what would happen : and I set out to return to my own home, with the babe in mine arms. In my way I was weary enough; but I never met with any body that took compassion on me or my burden, so I walked on; but I fell sick, as you may see by my looks, and spent the little money I had left, and then I sold my clothes and every thing I could spare. All wrent except these poor rags; vet still I thought if I could but get home I should do very well. I am used to hard work, and I could even do for this little creature, who has �16 nobody in the world but me to put a morsel of bread into its poor mouth; so I can't bear to let it starve !" As she said this, she pressed the child to her bosom, and her tears dropped upon it, whilst she repeated, " i f I was but able to work, or I couM but get enough to keep it till I reach my home!" " Poor babe!" said Walden, " poor, yet happy creature, who, in losing her who gave thee birth, found a second mother! eyes that dropt tears of pity on thy lot, and a heart that loves thee! no, thou slialt not from hard necessity be deserted!" Walden then wrote upon a leaf of his pocket-book the name of the woman, and that of the village where she informed him she lived with her family; and giving her a small sum of money, promised that he would remit the same to her every year. The woman, on holding the gold in her hand, which had never contained so much before, exclaimed, " O h ! this is to much, worthy sir:" and being desired to keep it, die added, " w e shall now be rich indeed! my own little ones, and this one, and their grandmother, we shall all be rich !" "Goodcreature!" exclaimed Walden with emotion, " y o u are rich indeed, in a heart to which all other riches are dross! your humanity to this orphan will be better re- �warded ; but if this were my last crown you should have it. Hasten away, or I may be tempted to take the child, to have the pleasure of bringing it up, that it may love me as it will you." On hearing this, the woman hastily pressed the infant to her bosom, and giving Walden a farewell benediction, pursued her journey with alacrity. ) �18 BARON TRENCK. • • BARON TRENCK, at the time of the first war between the king of Prussia and the house of Austria, being young and enterprising, offered himself, with a small band of determined men, to carry off the king of Prussia, when he went out from his camp to reconnoitre the position of the Austrians. In fact, he did attempt the enterprise; but succeeded so ill that he was taken prisoner himself, and condemned to perpetual confinement in the castle of Magdeburgh. The treatment he received was equally singular and cruel. He was chained, standing against the wall; F that, for several years, he coidd neither O sit nor lie down. His gaurds had orders not to let him sleep more than a certain time; very short, but long enough to prevent his strength from being entirely exhausted. He remained four or five years in this dreadfid situation; after which, there being reason to fear he could not live long in that « < state, he was chained in such a manner that he might sit down, which appeared to him to be a great alleviation of his sufferings. He told me himself, that after having suffered �19 severe illness during the first year of his imprisonment, his constitution, which was strong and robust, was so unbroken, that he recovered his health; and though he received no other sustenance than bread and water, yet he was remarkably well, and resumed his former gaiety. In this state of mind he found means to soothe the tedium of so long an imprisonment by making verses; which he set to music as well as he could, and sung for half the day. As he had nothing worse to dread, the king of Prussia was frequently the subject of his songs, and was not spared in them. He also had recourse to the power of imagination, to soothe the horrors of his situation; and the whole time that he did not spend in singing, was passed in turning his ideas to all the agreeable conditions whicli it was possible for him to conceive. He was almost brought to consider these wanderings of his imagination as realities, and to regard his misfortunes as mere dreams. At last the Empress Queen, who for a long time had believed that lie was dead, being informed of his miserable existence, solicited his liberty from the king of Prussia with so much earnestness, that she obtained his release. I saw him at Aix-la-Chapelle, enjoying very good health; having married a handsome woman, the daughter of one of the principal inhabitants of that imperial city, to which �20 lie had retired, that he might not be exposed to the power of an arbitrary goverment. He published several German works, some of which are the fruits of the reflections he made during the time of his imprisonment; some poetry against the king of Prussia, and some details relative to the manner in which he passed his time at MagdeburgL He gave them to me himself; and though his works had no great merit in the style, yet the singularity of his thoughts, and the extraordinary fate of the author, rendered them interesting. What astonished me most in him was, the force of mind, the courage, and the constancy which had supported him in a situation in which there was no hope of his seeing better days. He appeared now to have forgotten the whole, or to recall the remembrance of his past sufferings, only that he might the better enjoy the happiness of his present condition. He was very gay; and there were moments when one might have supposed, without doing him great injustice, that his reason had been in some degree affected by his long confinement; but it was only surprising that this did not appear in a more eminent degree.* * Poor Treiiek, wishing to take a part in the French Revolution, went to Paris in the year 1 7 9 3 , and was guillotined on the 25th of July, 1 7 9 4 , two days before the execution of Robespierre �21 J A C K EASY. 4 But Hmlibras, who scorn'd to stoop To Fortune, or be said to droop, Cheer'd up liiinself with ends of verse, And sayings of philosophers." AMONG the happy people in the world, art those, in whose minds nature or philosophy has placed a kind of acid, with which care or disappointment will not easily mix. This acid differs very much from ill-nature; it is rather a kind of salt, expressed from frequent observations on the folly, the vanity, and the uncertainty of human events; from that best of all philosophy, which teaches us to take men as we find them, and circumstances as they occur, good or bad, for better or lor worse; that dwells not on future prospects, reflects not on past troubles, and cares not a lig for present difficulties, but dexterously turns them to ridicule or advantage; snatching, at every opportunity, accidental pleasures, and nobly bearing up against the rubs of ill-fortune. When reflections upon the troubles of life are mixed up in a disposition naturally illtempered, they compose what is called �22 melancholy; but as they have no chemical affinity with good humour, they will not easily combine; and the small particles that are miscible, produce only the sweet and acid salt of true philosophy. Such a traveller, in his journey through the world, was my honest friend Jack Easy. Jack came to a good fortune at the death of his father, and mounted his hobby without its ever having been properly broken in ; he galloped over the plains of Fancy, went off in a full canter to the road of Dissipation, and leaped over all the five-barred gates of Advice and Discretion. It may naturally be supposed, that before long his filly gave him a fall: poor Jack came down sure enough ; but he only shook himself, brushed off the dirt of the road, and mounted again in as high spirits as ever; excepting, that he nowT began to sit firmer in the saddle, and to look about him : this, however, did not hinder him from getting into a swamp, called a law-suit, where he remained a considerable time before he could get out: his fortune was now reduced from some thousands to a few hundreds; and by this time, no man better knew the way of life than my friend Jack Easy. He had been through all the dirty cross-roads of business, money-borrowing, bankruptcy, and law; and at last arrived at a goal. �23 My friend Jack did not despond; he consoled himself with the reflection that he was a single man; some of his misfortunes were the consequences of his own imprudence, others of unforseen accidents, and most of them originated from his good nature and generosity. He, however, never excused; lie lumped them all together, took them in good part, and blamed nobody but himself; he whistled away his troubles, and often repeated. " I am out of Fortune's power : " H e who is down can sink no lower." The goddess, however, at last put on her best smiles, and paid Jack a visit in the King's-Bench, in the shape of a handsome legacy. Jack smiled at the thing, being, as he called it, so extremely a-propos! and once more mounted his nag. He now rode more cautiously, and turned into the road of Economy, which led to a comfortable inn with the sign of Competency over the door; lie had borrowed a martingale from an old hostler called experience; and for the first time in his life used a curb. He began already to find, that though he did not gallop away as formerly, yet he went on in his journey pleasantly enough. Some dashing riders passed him, laughing at his jog-trot pace; but he had no occassion to envy them long; for presently some of them got into nits, others �24 wore stuck fast in bogs and quagmires, and the rest were thrown from their saddles to the great danger of their necks. Jack Easy, meanwhile, jogged on merrily; hot or cold, wet or dry, he never complained; he now preferred getting off, and opening a gate, to leaping over it; and smiled at an obstacle as at a turnpike, where lie must necessarily pay toll. The man who is contented either to walk, trot, or canter through life, has by much the advantage of his fellow travellers. He suits himself to all paces, and seldom quarrels with the tricks which the jade Fortune is sometimes disposed to play him. You might now see Jack Easy walking his hobby along the road, enjoying the scene around him, with contentment sparkling in his eyes. If the way happened to be crowded with horsemen and carriages, you might observe him very readily taking his own side of the road, and letting them pass. * If it began to rain or blow, Jack only pulled up the collar of his great-coat, flapped his hat, and retreated to the best shelter he could find till the storm was over. Thus my frienu Jack Easy came in with a jog-trot to the end of his journey, leaving his example behind him as a kind of fingerpost for the good of other travellers, FINIS. � 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 029_a: Title-page illustration of a bull charging a man on rocky terrain. 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 the Three Beggars, Soldier's Wife, Baron Trenk, and Jack Easy. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Soldier's Wife Baron Trenk Jack Easy Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9934228083505154">s0585b29</a> Description An account of the resource 31 printed at the foot of the title page Woodcut #29a: Illustration on title-page of a bull charging a man on rocky terrain 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 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per National Library of Scotland 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 Language A language of the resource English 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 # of Woodcuts: 1 Activity: running Animal: bull(s) Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: fairytale/folk tale Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Gender: man/men Nature: flower(s) Nature: rock(s) Nature: tree(s) Outdoor Scene