burn

I shall never again be capable of entering into such scenes." Burns knew himself to be a man of faults.

Bad fortune, too, followed Burns. The shop in which he was engaged was set on fire, and he was left "like a true poet, not worth a sixpence."

Bad harvests were followed by money difficulties, and, weighed down with all his cares, William Burns died.

The next four years of Burns's life were eventful years, for though he worked hard as he guided the plow or swung the scythe, he wove songs in his head.

Still I felt that Helen Burns considered things by a light invisible to my eyes.

"And cross and cruel," I added; but Helen Burns would not admit my addition: she kept silence.

In her turn, Helen Burns asked me to explain, and I proceeded forthwith to pour out, in my own way, the tale of my sufferings and resentments.

"Helen Burns, if you don't go and put your drawer in order, and fold up your work this minute, I'll tell Miss Scatcherd to come and look at it!"

The curate was tired and would not look into any more books, and so he decided that, "contents uncertified," all the rest should be burned; but just then the barber held open one, called "The Tears of Angelica."

"I should have shed tears myself," said the curate when he heard the title, "had I ordered that book to be burned, for its author was one of the famous poets of the world, not to say of Spain, and was very happy in the translation of some of Ovid's fables."

Burns sighed, glanced at me inquisitively, as much as to say, "Aren't you going yet?" and then turned his thoughts from his new captain back to the old, who, being dead, had no authority, was not in anybody's way, and was much easier to deal with.

Burns mustered his courage one day and remonstrated earnestly with the captain.

Burns at this point looked at me with an air of curiosity.

Burns that photograph explained why the unloaded ship had kept sweltering at anchor for three weeks in a pestilential hot harbour with- out air.