CHAPTER 8

An amour, which promises little good fortune, yet may be
productive of much


The next morning we were again visited by Mr Burchell, though I
began, for certain reasons, to be displeased with the frequency
of his return; but I could not refuse him my company and
fire-side. It is true his labour more than requited his
entertainment; for he wrought among us with vigour, and either in
the meadow or at the hay-rick put himself foremost. Besides, he
had always something amusing to say that lessened our toil, and
was at once so out of the way, and yet so sensible, that I loved,
laughed at, and pitied him. My only dislike arose from an
attachment he discovered to my daughter: he would, in a jesting
manner, call her his little mistress, and when he bought each of
the girls a set of ribbands, hers was the finest. I knew not how,
but he every day seemed to become more amiable, his wit to
improve, and his simplicity to assume the superior airs of
wisdom.

Our family dined in the field, and we sate, or rather reclined,
round a temperate repast, our cloth spread upon the hay, while Mr
Burchell gave cheerfulness to the feast. To heighten our
satisfaction two blackbirds answered each other from opposite
hedges, the familiar redbreast came and pecked the crumbs from
our hands, and every sound seemed but the echo of tranquillity.