fierce furious With all possible haste With joy Bustle stared. A noise met his ear, And his strong and stout limbs creeping BUSTLE IS IN DANGER. He tried to run swift, But his creeping slow pace Was never in tended To shine in the chase: Came a white, furious dog, By one chance alone His life he might keep, In the shape of a ball. The contest began! Growler gave a smart shake The dog worried and scratch'd While Bustle did naught But prick, nestle, and giunt. waited intended Nature's beauties no more. The pig-nuts un tasted, Remain'd near the brook, Alas! upon them He dared not venture a look. "Twere better to live On slugs and on snails, Without sauce or relish, Again reach our nest, On my dear mother's breast!" * Parents' Cabinet (By permission). trespassed doubt disobeyed distress giant wretchedness prisoner bitterness counselled diffidence dungeon soreness Doubting Castle. Christian and Hopeful wander from the I SAW, in my dream, that Christian and Hopeful had wandered from the high road; nor were they able to find their way back again. So they sat down under a tree to wait till daybreak; but, being weary, they fell asleep. The Now, there was not far from the place where they lay a castle called Doubting Castle. owner of it was Giant Despair, and it was in his grounds they were now sleeping. Well, while walking up and down in his fields, early in the morning, he caught Christian and Hopeful asleep in his grounds. Then with a grim and surly voice, he bid them awake, and asked whence they were, and what they were doing in his grounds. They told him they were Pilgrims, and that they had lost their way. Then said the Giant, "You have this night tres passed on me, by trampling upon, and lying in my grounds, and therefore you must go along with me. So they were forced to go, because he was stronger than they. They also had but little to say, because they knew they were in fault. The Giant therefore drove them before him into his Castle, and put them into a very dark and nasty dungeon. Here, then, they lay, from Wednesday morning till Saturday night, without one bit of bread, or drop of drink, or any light, or any one to ask how they did. They were, therefore, in a sad plight. Now, Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence. So when he had gone to bed he told his wife what he had done, namely, that he had taken a couple of prisoners, and cast them into his dungeon. Then he asked her what he had better do further to them. So she asked what they were, whence they came and whither they were bound, and he told her. Then she counselled him, that when he rose in the morning he should beat them without mercy. So when he rose he gets a huge cudgel, and goes down into the dungeon to them; and begins calling them names as if they were dogs. They answered him never a word. Then he falls upon them and beats them so badly, that they are not able to help themselves, or to turn upon the floor. This done he withdraws and leaves them there, in their misery and distress. All that day they spent in nothing but sighs and bitter wailings. The next night, talking with her husband about them further, and hearing they were yet alive, Mistress Diffidence told him to counsel them to make away with themselves. So when morning came, he goes to them in a surly manner, as before; and tells them that they were never likely to come out of that place. Their only way then would be forth with to make an end of themselves, either with knife, halter or poison! "For why," said he, "should you choose life, seeing it is attended with so much bitterness." But they desired him to let them go. With that he looked ugly upon them; and rushing upon them, had doubt less made an end of them himself, but that he fell into one of his fits, and lost for a time the use of his hand. Where fore he with drew and left them as before. Well, towards evening, the Giant goes down into the dungeon again, to see if his prisoners had taken his counsel; but when he came there, he found them alive, and truly, alive was all. For now, what for want of bread and water, and by reason of the wounds they received when he beat them, they could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found them alive; at which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them that, seeing they had disobey'd his counsel, it should be worse for them than if they had never been born. At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian fell into a swoon. Then the Giant takes them into the Castle yard and shows them the bones of men and women all strewed about : "These," said he, "were once pilgrims as you are, and they tres passed in my grounds as you have done, and, when I thought fit, I tore them in pieces. The same thing, within ten days, I will do to you. Get you down to your den again!" And with that he beat them all the way thither. |