Simple Susan

The Attorney himself was present when the harper began to repeat his ballad. His color, as Sir Arthur steadily looked at him, changed from red to white, and from white to red, until at length he suddenly shrunk back through the crowd and left the room. We shall not follow him. We had rather follow our old friend the harper. No sooner had he received the prize of ten guineas, than he went to a small room belonging to the people of the house, asked for pen, ink, and paper, and dictated, in a low voice to his boy, a letter, which he ordered him to put at once into the post-office. The boy ran off with the letter and was but just in time, for the postman's horn was sounding. The next morning Farmer Price was sitting beside his wife and Susan sorrowing that his week's leave was nearly [pg 302] at an end, and that they had not enough money to give to the man who was willing to go in his place, when a knock was heard at the door. Then the person who delivered the letters in the village put one into Susan's hand, saying, "A penny, if you please—here's a letter for your father."

"For me!" said Farmer Price; "here's the penny then; but who can it be from, I wonder? Who can think of writing to me, in this world?" He tore open the letter, but the hard name at the bottom of the page puzzled him—"your obliged friend, Llewellyn."

"And what's this?" he said, opening a paper that was enclosed in the letter. "It's a song, seemingly; it must be somebody that has a mind to make an April fool of me."

"But it is not April, it is May, father," said Susan.

"Well, let us read the letter, and we shall come to the truth all in good time."

Farmer Price then sat down in his own chair, and read as follows:

"My Worthy Friend—I am sure you will be glad to hear that I have had success this night. I have won the ten-guinea prize, and for that I am much indebted to your sweet daughter Susan; as you will see by a little ballad I enclose for her. Your kindness to me has let me learn something of your family history. You do not, I hope, forget that I was present when you were counting the treasure in Susan's little purse, and that I heard for what purpose it was all saved. You have not, I know, yet made up the full sum you need; therefore, I will be glad if you will use the five-guinea bank-note which you will find within the ballad. Pay me the money again when it suits you, and if it never suits you to pay it, I shall never ask for it. I shall go my rounds again through this country, I believe, about the same time next year, and will call to see how you are, and to play the new tune for Susan and the dear little boys.

"I should just add, to set your heart at rest about the money, that it does not distress me at all to lend it to you. I am not quite so poor as I appear to be. But it is my wish to go about as I do. I see more of the world under my tattered clothes than, [pg 303] perhaps, I should ever see in a better dress. There are many of us like this, and we are glad, when we can, to do any kindness to such a worthy family as yours.—So fare ye well.

"Your obliged Friend,

Llewellyn."

Susan now, at her father's bidding, opened the ballad. He took the five-guinea bank-note, while she read, with surprise, "Susan's Lamentation for her Lamb." Her mother leaned over her shoulder to read the words, but they were stopped before they had finished the first verse by another knock at the door.

XII

ATTORNEY CASE IN TROUBLE

It was not the postman with another letter. It was Sir Arthur and his sisters.

They came meaning to lend the farmer and his good family the money to pay the man who was willing to go away in the farmer's place. But they found their help was not needed.

"Still, since we are here," said Sir Arthur, "there is something I should like to speak about. Mr. Price, will you come out with me, and let me show you a piece of your land through which I want to make a road. Look there," said Sir Arthur, pointing to the spot, "I am laying out a drive round my estate, and that bit of land of yours stops me."

"Why, sir, true enough it's mine, but you are welcome to it. I can trust you to find me another bit worth the same, or to make up the value of it in some other way. I need say no more."

Sir Arthur was silent for a few moments. Then he said, "What is this I hear about some mistake in your lease?"

"Well, sir," replied the farmer, "the truth is the fit thing to be spoken at all times. I can show you a letter from your brother who had the estate before you, and who let the farm to [pg 304] me. That letter shows what he meant, Sir Arthur, and if in the writing of the lease it was otherwise said, it is, as you say, a mistake, sir. Now a mistake is a mistake all the world over, and should be treated as such, but Attorney Case says in the matter of a lease you must abide by the mistake as though it were the truth."

"You seem," said Sir Arthur, "to have some quarrel with this Attorney of whom you talk so often. Now would you mind telling me frankly what is the matter between you?"

"The matter between us, sir, is this," said Price. "You know the corner of the field with the pink hawthorn near Mr. Case's house? The lane runs past one side of it and a sweetbrier hedge separates it on the other from his garden. Well, sir, the Attorney wishes to enclose that bit of ground with his own, and as it belongs to the village, and moreover is a play-green for the children, and it has been their custom to meet by the hawthorn every Mayday for as many years as I can remember, I was loth to see them turned out of it."

"Let us go together and look at this piece of ground," said Sir Arthur. "It is not far off, is it?"

"Oh, no, sir, close by."

When they reached the ground, Mr. Case saw them from his garden and hurried to the spot. He was afraid of what the farmer might tell Sir Arthur. But this time the Attorney was too late, for the truth had already been told.

"Is this the place you speak of?" asked Sir Arthur.

"Yes, sir," answered Price.

"Why, Sir Arthur," said Attorney Case, seeing that he was too late, "let there be no dispute about the ground. Let it belong to the village if you will. I give up all claim to it."

"But you know well, Mr. Case, that a man cannot give up claim to a place which is not his. You cannot give up this piece of land, for you have no claim to it, as I can prove to you by a look at my maps. This field used to belong to the farm on the other side of the road, but was cut off from it when the lane was made."

"Indeed you must know best," said the trembling Attorney, [pg 305] who was afraid of Sir Arthur and enraged to be shown in the wrong before Farmer Price.

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