s have blown over, an' they can come
back again. An' Juliet takes the physic, an' everybody thinks her dead,
her father, an' her mother, an' her old nuss, an' Paris--that's the
name of the gentleman as they wanted her to marry--an' there's such a
hullabaloo an' racket as niver was. An' they buried her i' the vault,
wi' all her relations, an' the old friar thinks as it's all a-comin'
straight. But the letter as he'd writ to Romeo niver reaches him, an'
Romeo hears as how Juliet's really dead, and he buys a bottle o' pison,
an' comes to Juliet's grave i' the night-time, an' there he meets Paris,
as has come to put flowers there an' pray for Juliet's soul, knowin'
no better and lovin' her very dear. An' him an' Romeo fights, and Romeo
kills him, an' opens the vault, an' go's in, an' theer's Juliet, lyin'
stiff an' stark, because the physic ain't had time to work itself off
yit. An' he kisses her, an' cries over her, and then he teks the pison,
and dies. An' just as he's done it, Juliet wakes up, and finds him dead,
and she takes his knife, an' kills herself, poor thing, an' that's the
hend on 'em.'

The old sentimentalist's eyes were moist, and her voice choked, as she
concluded her legend. It was the first love-story Dick had ever heard,
and in pity at the beautiful narrative, which no clumsiness of narration
could altogether rob of its pathos, he was crying too. There is no
audience like an impressionable child, and the immortal story of love
and misfortune seemed very pitiful to his small and tender heart.

'Why, theer! theer! Dick! It's only a story, my dear, wrote in a
book,' said Mrs Jenny. 'It most likely ain't true, an' if it is, it
all happened sich a time ago as it's no good a-frettin' about it. Why,
wheeriver did you get all them warts? 'She took one of the hands with
which Dick was rubbing his eyes. 'You should have 'em looked tew, they
quite spile your hands. I must get Rufus Smith to have a look at 'em.
You know who we'm agoin' to see, don't you? You've heard tell o' the
Dudley Devil, Dick?'

'Yes,' said Dick. 'Ichabod goes to him for his rheumatism.'

'It's on'y a step away. That's his cottage, over there. We'll get him to
charm the warts away.'

A hundred yards farther on Mrs. Jenny checked the pony, and, dismounting
from the vehicle, bade Dick tie him to an elder-shoot and follow her.
They went through a gap in a ruinous hedge, and traversed a furzy field,
at the farther side of which stood the wizard