Her first impulse was to go back to the old treasurer, and explain to him his blunder.  He was already so confused with age, besides a natural want of punctuality, that she would have had some difficulty in making him understand it.  She saw that in an instant.  And then it was such a bit of money:  and then the image of a larger allowance of butcher’s meat on their table next day came across her, till her little eyes glistened, and her mouth moistened.  But then Mr. Ravenscroft had always been so good-natured, had stood her friend behind the scenes, and even recommended her promotion to some of her little parts.  But again the old man was reputed to be worth a world of money.  He was supposed to have fifty pounds a year clear of the theatre.  And then came staring upon her the figures of her little stockingless and shoeless sisters.  And when she looked at her own neat white cotton stockings, which her situation at the theatre had made it indispensable for her mother to provide for her, with hard straining and pinching from the family stock, and thought how glad she should be to cover their poor feet with the same, and how then they could accompany her to rehearsals, which they had hitherto been precluded from doing, by reason of their unfashionable attire,—­in these thoughts she reached the second landing-place—­the second, I mean, from the top—­for there was still another left to traverse.

Now, virtue, support Barbara!

And that never-failing friend did step in; for at that moment a strength not her own, I have heard her say, was revealed to her—­a reason above reasoning—­and without her own agency, as it seemed (for she never felt her feet to move), she found herself transported back to the individual desk she had just quitted, and her hand in the old hand of Ravenscroft, who in silence took back the refunded treasure, and who had been sitting (good man) insensible to the lapse of minutes, which to her were anxious ages; and from that moment a deep peace fell upon her heart, and she knew the quality of honesty.

A year or two’s unrepining application to her profession brightened up the feet and the prospects of her little sisters, set the whole family upon their legs again, and released her from the difficulty of discussing moral dogmas upon a landing-place.

Essays of Elia, by CHARLES LAMB.

* * * * *

A BALLAD.

“Turn, gentle Hermit of the dale,
And guide my lonely way
To where yon taper cheers the vale
With hospitable ray.

“For here forlorn and lost I tread,
With fainting steps and slow,
Where wilds, immeasurably spread,
Seem lengthening as I go.”

“Forbear, my son,” the Hermit cries,
“To tempt the dangerous gloom;
For yonder faithless phantom flies
To lure thee to thy doom.

“Here to the houseless child of want
My door is open still;
And, though my portion is but scant,
I give it with good will.