"God ield thee, for mine is aw in littocks. Slocket with thy pack into gharn, mon--her walks in gharn." Into the garden she ushered the pedlar accordingly, and pointing to an old, ruinous garden house, said, "Yonder be's her, mon--yonder be's her. Zhe will buy changes an zhe loikes stuffs."
"She has left me to come off as I may," thought Wayland, as he heard the hag shut the garden-door behind him. "But they shall not beat me, and they dare not murder me, for so little trespass, and by this fair twilight. Hang it, I will on--a brave general never thought of his retreat till he was defeated. I see two females in the old garden-house yonder--but how to address them? Stay--Will Shakespeare, be my friend in need. I will give them a taste of Autolycus." He then sung, with a good voice, and becoming audacity, the popular playhouse ditty,--
"Lawn as white as driven snow,
Cyprus black as e'er was crow,
Gloves as sweet as damask roses,
Masks for faces and for noses."
"What hath fortune sent us here for an unwonted sight, Janet?" said the lady.
"One of those merchants of vanity, called pedlars," answered Janet, demurely, "who utters his light wares in lighter measures. I marvel old Dorcas let him pass."
"It is a lucky chance, girl," said the Countess; "we lead a heavy life here, and this may while off a weary hour."
