nkard and his parasites (for all
the idle vagabonds about soon flocked around rich Acton, and were freely
welcome to his reckless prodigality), Grace had been forced to steal
away, and seek refuge with a neighbour. Here was one blessing the less.

Another wretched change was in the wife. Granted, Mary Acton had not
ever been the pink of politeness, the violet of meekness, nor the rose
of entire amiability: but if she were a scold, that scolding was well
meant; and her irate energies were incessantly directed towards
cleanliness, economy, quiet, and other _notabilia_ of a busy house-wife.
She did her best to keep the hovel tidy, to make the bravest show with
their scanty chattels, to administer discreetly the stores of their
frugal larder, and to recompense the good-man returning from his hard
day's work, with much of rude joy and bustling kindness. But now, after
the first stupor of amazement into which the crock and its consequences
threw her, Poll Acton grew to be a fury: she raged and stormed, and well
she might, at filth and discomfort in her home, at nauseous dregs and
noisome fumes, at the orgie still kept up, day by day, and night by
night, through the length of that first foul week, which succeeded the
fortunate discovery. And not in vain she raged and stormed--and fought
too; for she did fight--ay, and conquered: and miserable Roger, now in
full possession of those joys which he had longed for at the casement of
Hurstley Hall, was glad to betake himself to the bench at Bacchus's,
whither he withdrew his ragged regiment. Thus, that crock had spoilt all
there was to spoil in the temper and conduct of the wife.

Look also at the pretty prattling babes, twin boys of two years old,
whom Roger used to hasten home to see; who had to say their simple
prayers; to be kissed, and comforted, and put to bed; to be made happier
by a wild flower picked up on his path, than if the gift had been a
coral with gold bells: where were they now? neglected, dirty, fretting
in a corner, their red eyes full of wonder at father's altered ways, and
their quick minds watching, with astonished looks, the progress of
domestic discord. How the crock of gold has nipped those early blossoms
as a killing frost!

Again, there used to be, till this sad week of wealth and riotous
hilarity, that constantly recurring blessing of the morn and evening
prayer which Roger read aloud, and Grace's psalm or chapter; and
afterwards the frugal meal--too sc