HOW BARNABAS FELL IN WITH A PEDLER OF BOOKS, AND PURCHASED A
"PRICELESS WOLLUM"

"Heads up, young master, never say die! and wi' the larks and the
throstles a-singing away so inspiring too--Lord love me!"

Barnabas started guiltily, and turning with upflung head, perceived
a very small man perched on an adjacent milestone, with a very large
pack at his feet, a very large hunk of bread and cheese in his hand,
and with a book open upon his knee.

"Listen to that theer lark," said the man, pointing upwards with the
knife he held.

"Well?" said Barnabas, a trifle haughtily perhaps.

"There's music for ye; there's j'y. I never hear a lark but it takes
me back to London--to Lime'us, to Giles's Rents, down by the River."

"Pray, why?" inquired Barnabas, still a trifle haughtily.

"Because it's so different; there ain't much j'y, no, nor yet music
in Giles's Rents, down by the River."

"Rather an unpleasant place!" said Barnabas.

"Unpleasant, young sir. I should say so--the worst place in the
world--but listen to that theer blessed lark; there's a woice for ye;
there's music with a capital M.; an' I've read as they cooks and