The white horse drooped his soft white nose and weary neck for a long, long time under the effigy of his namesake swinging overhead, and when the Cheap Jack did come out, he seemed so preoccupied that the tired beast got home with fewer blows than usual. He unloaded his cart mechanically, as if in a dream; but when he touched the pictures, they seemed to awaken a fresh train of thought. He stamped one of his little feet spitefully on the ground, and, with a pretty close imitation of George’s dialect, said bitterly, “Gearge bean’t such a vool as a looks!” adding, after a pause, “I’d do a deal to pay _him_ off!” As he turned into the house, he said thoughtfully, “Sal’s precious sharp; she allus was. And a fine woman, too, is Sal!” * * * * * Not long after the incidents just related, it happened that business called Mrs. Lake to the neighboring town. She seldom went out, but a well-to-do aunt was sick, and wished to see her; and the miller gave his consent to her going. She met the milk-cart at the corner of the road, and so was driven to the town, and she took Jan with her. He had begged hard to go, and was intensely amused by all he saw. The young Lakes were so thoroughly in the habit of taking every thing, whether commonplace or curious, in the same phlegmatic fashion, that Jan’s pleasure was a new pleasure to his foster-mother, and they enjoyed themselves greatly. As they were making their way towards the inn where they were to pick up a neighbor, in whose cart they were to be driven home, their progress was hindered by a crowd, which had collected near one of the churches. Mrs. Lake was one of those people who lead colorless lives, and are without mental resources, to whom a calamity is almost delightful, from the stimulus it gives to the imagination, and the relief it affords to the monotony of existence. “Oh, dear! oh, dear!” she cried, peering through the crowd: “I wonder what it is. ’Tis likely ’tis a man in a fit now, I shouldn’t wonder, or a cart upset, and every soul killed, as it might be ourselves going home this very evening. Dear, dear! ’tis a venturesome thing to leave home, too!” “’Ere they be! ’ere they be!” roared a wave of the crowd, composed of boys, breaking on Mrs. Lake and Jan at this point. “’Tis the body, sure as death!” murmured the windmiller’s wife; but, as she spoke, the street boys set up a lusty cheer, and Jan, who had escaped to explore on his own account, came running back, crying,— “’Tis the Cheap Jack, mammy! and he’s been getting married.” If any thing could have rivalled the interest of a sudden death for Mrs. Lake, it must have been such a wedding as this. She hurried to the front, and was just in time to catch sight of the happy couple as they passed down the street, escorted by a crowd of congratulating boys. [Picture: If any thing could have rivalled the interest of a sudden death for Mrs. Lake, it must have been such a wedding as this]