He has lately taken a coadjutor worthy of himself, being another stray
sheep that has returned to the village fold. This is no other than the
son of the musical tailor, who had bestowed some cost upon his
education, hoping to see him one day arrive at the dignity of an
exciseman, or at least of a parish clerk. The lad grew up, however, as
idle and musical as his father; and, being captivated by the drum and
fife of a recruiting party, he followed them off to the army. He
returned not long since, out of money, and out at the elbows, the
prodigal son of the village. He remained for some time lounging about
the place in half-tattered soldier's dress, with a foraging-cap on one
side of his head, jerking stones across the brook, or loitering about
the tavern-door, a burthen to his father, and regarded with great
coldness by all warm householders.
Something, however, drew honest Slingsby towards the youth. It might
be the kindness he bore to his father, who is one of the
schoolmaster's great cronies; it might be that secret sympathy which
draws men of vagrant propensities towards each other; for there is
something truly magnetic in the vagabond feeling; or it might be, that
he remembered the time when he himself had come back, like this
youngster, a wreck, to his native place.
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