"Yea,
           many there be
             that have
                  run out of their wits
                       for women,
         and become servants
               for their sakes.

    Many also have perished,
           have erred,
         and sinned,
           for women
        .... O ye men,
           how can it be
             but women should be strong,
         seeing they do thus?"

    --ESDRAS.

 
  I

    THE schoolmaster
        was leaving the village,
           and everybody seemed sorry.

    The miller at Cresscombe
          lent him the small white
              tilted cart and horse
          to carry his goods
               to the city
                   of his destination,
           about twenty miles off,
         such a vehicle
              proving of
                  quite sufficient size
                       for the departing teacher's effects.

    For the schoolhouse
        had been partly
              furnished by the managers,
           and the only cumbersome article
              possessed by the master,
         in addition
               to the packing-case of books,
           was a cottage piano
             that he
                had bought at an auction
                      during the year
             in which
                 he thought
                       of learning instrumental music.

    But the enthusiasm having waned
         he had never
              acquired any skill in playing,
           and the purchased article
            had been a perpetual trouble
                   to him ever
             since in moving house.

    The rector
        had gone
              away for the day,
           being a man
             who disliked
                   the sight of changes.

    He did not mean
           to return
         till the evening,
           when the new school-teacher
            would have arrived and
                  settled in,
         and everything would be
             smooth again.

    The blacksmith,
           the farm bailiff,
         and the schoolmaster himself
            were standing
                   in perplexed attitudes
                 in the parlour
             before the instrument.

    The master had remarked
         that even
           if he
            got it into the cart
             he should not know
         what to do
               with it
             on his arrival
               at Christminster,
           the city
             he was bound for,
         since he
            was only
                  going into temporary lodgings
                      just at first.

    A little boy of eleven,
           who had been thoughtfully
              assisting in the packing,
         joined the group of men,
           and as
             they rubbed their chins
               he spoke up,
         blushing at the sound
               of his own voice:
         "Aunt have
            got a great fuel-house,
               and it
                could be put there,
             perhaps,
               till you've found a place
                  to settle in,
             sir."

    "A proper good notion,"
          said the blacksmith.

    It was decided
         that a deputation
            should wait
                   on the boy's aunt
         -- an old maiden resident--
           and ask her
             if she
                would house the piano
             till Mr. Phillotson
                should send for it.

    The smith
           and the bailiff started
          to see
               about the
                 practicability
                    of the suggested shelter,
           and the boy
               and the schoolmaster
            were left
             standing alone.

    "Sorry I am going,
           Jude?"

    asked the latter kindly.

    Tears rose
           into the boy's eyes,
         for he
            was not
                   among the regular day scholars,
         who came unromantically close
               to the schoolmaster's life,
           but one
             who had
                  attended the night school
                      only during
                        the present teacher's
                              term of office.

    The regular scholars,
           if the truth
            must be told,
         stood at
               the present moment afar off,
           like certain historic disciples,
         indisposed to any
             enthusiastic
                volunteering of aid.

    The boy awkwardly
          opened the book
         he held in his hand,
           which Mr. Phillotson
            had bestowed on him
                   as a parting gift,
         and admitted
             that he was sorry.

    "So am I,"
          said Mr. Phillotson.

    "Why do you go,
           sir?"

    asked the boy.

    "Ah
          --that would be
               a long story.