: Wonderful Stories for Children by Andersen H C Hans Christian Howitt Mary Mary Botham Translator - Fairy tales; Fairy tales Denmark

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Chapter

"Oh! this is trim!"--TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.

At not more than a stone's throw from a neat market town, in a certain shire of England, lived Francis Hartland, Esq. in a well-built square house, which was separated from the King's high road, by a lawn of twenty acres. Round this lawn a double row of handsome elms lined a ring fence, and formed the outer boundary, in that part next the house, of a bank covered with all sorts of shrubs, which sloped in a gradually inclined plane, from the shining laurel to the dwarf cistus, and met a broad belt of gravel, hard and smooth as marble, through which no upstart weed ever dared to force its way. This walk was fringed by a border of flowers, in such variety of glowing tints, that lawn and all might be aptly compared to a robe of green velvet, trimmed with a phylactery of broidered work, worthy of Sheba's Queen in all her glory, while the whole exhibited such precision and nicety in the keeping, as to suggest the idea that its owner, in league with the fairies, possessed some secret charm against every noxious reptile and devouring fly.

Mr. Hartland's manner and appearances unquestionably contradicted this surmise; but no matter for that. We know that stubborn facts are accustomed to bend to theory in cases more impracticable than this; and therefore, though we may object to the idea that features which seemed to be moulded for the seat of a perennial smile, had ever been "sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought," no such incongruity was perceived in the market-town of which our narrative makes mention; and not only was Mr. Hartland believed to have suffered all the pangs and penalties of slighted passion; but by degrees a certain name, locality, height, complexion, and many other particulars, came to be added respecting the cruel fair one, with such variance as suited the character of each reporter.

Now it may easily be conceived that Mr. Hartland, such as we have depicted him, though himself unperturbed, caused an active stir in the neighbourhood of his new habitation. The tradespeople all gave testimony to his being "a pure substantial man, who paid for every thing he had like a true gentleman." The regularity of his attendance at church gained him the rector's marked approval; while the apothecary sighed as he contemplated the damask of a cheek which seemed to hold out little hope of requiring aid from the leech's skill, or the rosy conserves of his shop. But the chief commotion was among the female part of the community, who, some for themselves, and others for their daughters, set a longing eye on Henbury's "crisped shades and bowers," where revelled "the spruce and jocund spring." On Sundays a general determination of gay hats and bonnets was observable towards that part of the church which was occupied by Mr. Hartland, where such a stream of floating ribbons might be remarked converging to his pew, as to authorise the belief that a current of the electrid fluid set in that direction, and drew the silken pennants thus to a point. The new comer was visited and invited by all the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, and declared to be an acquisition wherever he appeared. "Upon my word, a very sensible steady man is Mr. Hartland," was the usual panegyric pronounced by his hosts, while the old ladies protested that he played a capital game of whist, and the young confessed that though he had passed the first season of youth, he had not seen out its bloom.

Now it so happened that in the centre of the market-place, and in a house distinguished by two bay windows so prominent and closely set, that they looked like the eyes of a prawn, and served as spectacles to her who dwelt within, there lived a maiden yclept Jemima Ferret, whose name remarkably coincided with her character and vocation. Nature had originally bestowed upon her features divested of all attraction, and the small-pox had fatally confirmed the decree which had been issued in her cradle against the chances of a husband. Jemima had attained the age of fifty without a single proposal, though her favourite adage, and one which she repeated with such emphasis as to prove that she believed it in her heart, was, that "every Jack has his Jill."

Not to lead our readers into any false conclusions, which a little trouble in the way of explanation might prevent, it may be well to state the motives which induced an activity of zeal so very striking and conspicuous. Be it known, then, that Miss Ferret's income was a very small one, and though since she had given up all hope of bettering her fortune by a lucrative barter of such qualifications as she had to exchange for their money price, she had improved her means, by sinking her little capital for an annuity, it was not so liberal a stipend as to render her by any means indifferent to increase of comfort; and she prudently considered that the next best thing to forming a good establishment for herself, which we have hinted had hitherto proved impracticable, would be to secure as many settlements as she could for her friends, amongst whom she might pass from house to house much to the solace of her spirits and the relief of her purse.

In this office of match-making, then, which she raised to the dignity of a regular trade, or profession, she put forth all the strength of her talents, and prospered exceedingly. She had all sorts, sizes, and descriptions under her patronage; and her powers were so generally known, that though people did not like to own their obligation to a third person in matters of so delicate a nature, they were nevertheless secretly felt to be of such importance, that to conciliate Miss Ferret's regards became a point of rivalry in and about the town in which she resided.

The arrival of this lady, who deserves to be the heroine of a chapter, as she was soon destined to be head of a house, at once furnished a subject to animate the genius of our fair undertaker.

"The first springs of great events, like those of great rivers, are often mean and little."--SWIFT.

Well, in brisk spirits and iron-sided health, after executing a list of commissions, half a yard in length, for Lady Goodman, off cantered Miss Ferret, in joyous anticipation of a pleasant week at Colbrook. Her reception was gladdening. "My dear creature, welcome," said Lady Goodman, "you are actually my right hand; I do not know what in the world I should do without you. Did you remember the wax candles, and the snuff for Sir Roger, and the cards, and my watch which I sent to have a new crystal, and did you pay Farquar's bill?"

"I have done, ordered, and paid every thing."

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