After this bitter burst of wounded feeling, and, urged by the rejection of his addresses, the love-lorn Butcher mounted a joint-stool, and stepping on a fence, twisted the awful rope round the branch of a tree, and then, coiling it about his neck, determined that this day should be a killing day; vainly supposing, in the disordered state of his mind, that the flinty-hearted Molly would probably esteem her ‘dear’ (like venison) the better for being hung!  Mystically muttering ‘adoo!’ three times, in the most pathetic tone, he swung off and in an instant came to his latter end—­for the rope snapp’d in twain, and he found himself seated on the turf below, when he vainly imagined he was preparing himself for being placed below the turf!

“Nothin’ but disappointments in this world;” exclaimed he, really feeling hurt by the unexpected fall, for he had grazed his calves in the meadow, and was wofully vexed at finding himself a lover ‘turned off’ and yet ‘unhung.’

Cast down and melancholy, he retraced his steps, and seizing a cleaver (dreadful weapon!) vented his suicidal humour in chopping, with malignant fury, at his own block!

SCENE XIV.

Don’t you be saucy, Boys

“What are you grinning at, boys?” angrily demanded an old gentleman seated beside a meandering stream, of two schoolboys, who were watching him from behind a high paling at his rear.—­“Don’t you know a little makes fools laugh.”

“Yes, sir! that’s quite true, for we were laughing at what you’ve caught!”

“Umph!  I tell you what, my lads, if I knew your master, I’d pull you up, and have you well dressed.”

“Tell that to the fishes,” replied the elder, “when you do get a bite!”

“You saucy jackanapes! how dare you speak to me in this manner?”

“Pray, sir, are you lord of the manor?  I’m sure you spoke to us first,” said the younger.

“More than that,” continued his companion.  “We are above speaking to you, for you are beneath us!”

The old gentleman, rather nettled at the glibness of the lads, stuck a hook vengefully into an inoffensive worm, and threw his line.

The boys still retained their post, and after many whispered remarks and tittering, the younger thrust his handkerchief into his mouth to smother a burst of irrepressible laughter, while the other, assuming a modest and penitent air, said: 

“I beg your pardon, sir.”

“What?” demanded the old gentleman sharply.

“Hope you are not offended, sir?”

“Get along with you,” replied the unfortunate angler, irritated at his want of success.

“I can tell you something, sir,” continued the lad;—­“there’s no fish to be had where you are.  I know the river well.  Father’s very fond o’ fish; he always brings home plenty.  If you like, sir, I can show you the place.”

Here his companion rolled upon the grass and kicked, perfectly convulsed with laughter, luckily hidden from the view of the now mollified old gentleman.