e with penury with him, and
old age, and the union before him? Is he not that, when his landlord has
given him his sympathy? When he has given him an ALLOTMENT--who so
grateful, so industrious, so provident, so contented, and so
respectable?
The English peasant has in his nature all the elements of the English
character. Give him ease, and who so readily pleased; wrong him, and who
so desperate in his rage?
In his younger days, before the care of a family weighs on him, he is a
clumsy, but a very light-hearted creature. To see a number of young
country fellows get into play together, always reminds one of a quantity
of heavy cart-horses turned into a field on a Sunday. They gallop, and
kick, and scream. There is no malice, but a dreadful jeopardy of bruises
and broken ribs. Their play is truly called horse-play; it is all slaps
and bangs, tripping-up, tumbles, and laughter. But to see the young
peasant in his glory, you should see him hastening to the
Michaelmas-fair, statute, bull-roasting, or mop. He has served his year;
he has money in his pocket, his sweetheart on his arm, or he is sure to
meet her at the fair. Whether he goes again to his old place or a new
one, he will have a week's holiday. Thus, on old Michaelmas-day, he and
all his fellows, all the country over, are let loose, and are on the way
to the fair. The houses are empty of them--the highways are full of
them; there they go, lads and lasses, streaming along, all in their
finery, and with a world of laughter and loud talk. See, here they come,
flocking into the market-town! And there, what preparations for them!
shows, strolling theatres, stalls of all kinds--bearing clothes of all
kinds, knives, combs, queen-cakes, and gingerbread, and a hundred
inventions to lure those hard-earned wages out of his fob. And he does
not mean to be stingy to-day; he will treat his lass, and buy her a new
gown into the bargain. See, how they go rolling on together! He holds up
his elbow sharply by his side; she thrusts her arm through his, _up to
the elbow_, and away they go--a walking miracle that they can walk
together at all. As to keeping step, that is out of the question; but,
besides this, they wag and roll about in such a way, that, keeping their
arms tightly linked, it is amazing that they don't pull off one or the
other; but they don't. They shall see the shows, and stand all in a
crowd before them, with open eyes and open mouths, wondering at the
beauty of th
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