English Eclogues II - The Grandmother's Tale JANE.
Harry!
I'm
tired
of
playing.
We'll
draw
round
The
fire,
and
Grandmamma
perhaps
will
tell
us
One
of
her
stories.
HARRY.
Aye--dear
Grandmamma!
A
pretty
story!
something
dismal
now;
A
bloody
murder.
JANE.
Or
about
a
ghost.
GRANDMOTHER.
Nay,
nay,
I
should
but
frighten
you.
You
know
The
other
night
when
I
was
telling
you
About
the
light
in
the
church-yard,
how
you
trembled
Because
the
screech-owl
hooted
at
the
window,
And
would
not
go
to
bed.
JANE.
Why
Grandmamma
You
said
yourself
you
did
not
like
to
hear
him.
Pray
now!
we
wo'nt
be
frightened.
GRANDMOTHER.
Well,
well,
children!
But
you've
heard
all
my
stories.
Let
me
see,--
Did
I
never
tell
you
how
the
smuggler
murdered
The
woman
down
at
Pill?
HARRY.
No--never!
never!
GRANDMOTHER.
Not
how
he
cut
her
head
off
in
the
stable?
HARRY.
Oh--now!
do
tell
us
that!
GRANDMOTHER.
You
must
have
heard
Your
Mother,
children!
often
tell
of
her.
She
used
to
weed
in
the
garden
here,
and
worm
Your
uncle's
dogs,
and
serve
the
house
with
coal;
And
glad
enough
she
was
in
winter
time
To
drive
her
asses
here!
it
was
cold
work
To
follow
the
slow
beasts
thro'
sleet
and
snow,
And
here
she
found
a
comfortable
meal
And
a
brave
fire
to
thaw
her,
for
poor
Moll
Was
always
welcome.
HARRY.
Oh--'twas
blear-eyed
Moll
The
collier
woman,--a
great
ugly
woman,
I've
heard
of
her.
GRANDMOTHER.
Ugly
enough
poor
soul!
At
ten
yards
distance
you
could
hardly
tell
If
it
were
man
or
woman,
for
her
voice
Was
rough
as
our
old
mastiff's,
and
she
wore
A
man's
old
coat
and
hat,--and
then
her
face!
There
was
a
merry
story
told
of
her,
How
when
the
press-gang
came
to
take
her
husband
As
they
were
both
in
bed,
she
heard
them
coming,
Drest
John
up
in
her
night-cap,
and
herself
Put
on
his
clothes
and
went
before
the
Captain.
JANE.
And
so
they
prest
a
woman!
GRANDMOTHER.
'Twas
a
trick
She
dearly
loved
to
tell,
and
all
the
country
Soon
knew
the
jest,
for
she
was
used
to
travel
For
miles
around.
All
weathers
and
all
hours
She
crossed
the
hill,
as
hardy
as
her
beasts,
Bearing
the
wind
and
rain
and
winter
frosts,
And
if
she
did
not
reach
her
home
at
night
She
laid
her
down
in
the
stable
with
her
asses
And
slept
as
sound
as
they
did.
HARRY.
With
her
asses!
GRANDMOTHER.
Yes,
and
she
loved
her
beasts.
For
tho'
poor
wretch
She
was
a
terrible
reprobate
and
swore
Like
any
trooper,
she
was
always
good
To
the
dumb
creatures,
never
loaded
them
Beyond
their
strength,
and
rather
I
believe
Would
stint
herself
than
let
the
poor
beasts
want,
Because,
she
said,
they
could
not
ask
for
food.
I
never
saw
her
stick
fall
heavier
on
them
Than
just
with
its
own
weight.
She
little
thought
This
tender-heartedness
would
be
her
death!
There
was
a
fellow
who
had
oftentimes,
As
if
he
took
delight
in
cruelty.
Ill-used
her
Asses.
He
was
one
who
lived
By
smuggling,
and,
for
she
had
often
met
him
Crossing
the
down
at
night,
she
threatened
him,
If
he
tormented
them
again,
to
inform
Of
his
unlawful
ways.
Well--so
it
was--
'Twas
what
they
both
were
born
to,
he
provoked
her,
She
laid
an
information,
and
one
morn
They
found
her
in
the
stable,
her
throat
cut
From
ear
to
ear,'till
the
head
only
hung
Just
by
a
bit
of
skin.
JANE.
Oh
dear!
oh
dear!
HARRY.
I
hope
they
hung
the
man!
GRANDMOTHER.
They
took
him
up;
There
was
no
proof,
no
one
had
seen
the
deed,
And
he
was
set
at
liberty.
But
God
Whoss
eye
beholdeth
all
things,
he
had
seen
The
murder,
and
the
murderer
knew
that
God
Was
witness
to
his
crime.
He
fled
the
place,
But
nowhere
could
he
fly
the
avenging
hand
Of
heaven,
but
nowhere
could
the
murderer
rest,
A
guilty
conscience
haunted
him,
by
day,
By
night,
in
company,
in
solitude,
Restless
and
wretched,
did
he
bear
upon
him
The
weight
of
blood;
her
cries
were
in
his
ears,
Her
stifled
groans
as
when
he
knelt
upon
her
Always
he
heard;
always
he
saw
her
stand
Before
his
eyes;
even
in
the
dead
of
night
Distinctly
seen
as
tho'
in
the
broad
sun,
She
stood
beside
the
murderer's
bed
and
yawn'd
Her
ghastly
wound;
till
life
itself
became
A
punishment
at
last
he
could
not
bear,
And
he
confess'd
it
all,
and
gave
himself
To
death,
so
terrible,
he
said,
it
was
To
have
a
guilty
conscience!
HARRY.
Was
he
hung
then?
GRANDMOTHER.
Hung
and
anatomized.
Poor
wretched
man,
Your
uncles
went
to
see
him
on
his
trial,
He
was
so
pale,
so
thin,
so
hollow-eyed,
And
such
a
horror
in
his
meagre
face,
They
said
he
look'd
like
one
who
never
slept.
He
begg'd
the
prayers
of
all
who
saw
his
end
And
met
his
death
with
fears
that
well
might
warn
From
guilt,
tho'
not
without
a
hope
in
Christ.
