It was in the month of June, very soon after, Mr. Salmon had arrived at
the Tower, and before Dymock, who was a woful procrastinator, had gone
to demand the last payment, that Tamar, who was extraordinarily light
and active, had undertaken to walk to the next village to procure some
necessaries; she had three miles to go over the moor, nor could she go
till after dinner. Her way lay by Shanty's shed; and Mrs. Margaret
admonished her, if anything detained her, to call on Shanty, and ask him
to walk over the remainder of the moor with her on her return.

When she came down from preparing herself for this walk, all gay and
blooming with youth and health, and having a basket on her arm, she met
Dymock in the little garden.

"Whither away? beautiful Maid of Judah," said the genius. "My
bright-eyed Tamar," he added, "I have been thinking of a poem, and if I
can but express my ideas, it will be the means of lifting up my family
again from the destitution into which it has fallen. My subject is the
restoration of Jerusalem in the latter days, and the lifting up of the
daughters of Zion from the dust. The captives of Israel now are hewers
of wood and carriers of water; but the time will come when the hands
that now wear the manacles of servitude shall be comely with rows
of jewels."

"If no daughter of Judah," replied Tamar, "wears heavier manacles than I
do, dear father, they may bear them with light hearts;" and, as she
passed quickly by her adopted father, she snatched his hand and kissed
it, and soon she disappeared beyond the boundary of the glen.

Tamar reached the village in so short a time, and did her errands so