ular with the citizens of
Allington, to whom he sold such small articles as he could conveniently
carry in a bundle upon his back; needles, pins, thread, pencils,
matches, thimbles, cough lozengers, Brandreth's pills, handkerchiefs,
ribbons, combs, and sometimes Irish laces and Balbriggans formed a part
of his heterogeneous stock, which was varied from time to time to suit
the season, or the wants of his customers.

Very close at a bargain, and very saving of his money, he seldom stopped
at the hotel, but passed the night at the houses of his acquaintances,
who frequently made no charge for his meals or his lodgings. Especially
was this the case at the farm-house where the peddler, whose name was
Joel Rogers, was always welcome, and where he usually staid when in
Allington. Between Peter Jerrold and the peddler there was a strong
friendship, and the two often sat into the small hours of the night,
while the latter told marvelous tales of his wild Welsh country, which
he held above all other lands, and to which, the last time he was seen
in Allington, he said he was about to return.

For three days he remained in the town, selling off the most of his
stock, and then bidding his friends good-by, started late on the
afternoon of Thanksgiving Day for the adjoining town, where a few debts
were owing him, and where he hoped to dispose of the rest of his
merchandise.

As he left the village the snow began to fall heavily and this, perhaps,
was why he decided to stop at the farm-house, which was not upon the
highway, but nearly half a mile from it, upon a cross-road which led
through Peter Jerrold's farm to the town line, and which was seldom
traveled by any one except by Peter Jerrold himself and those who came
to visit him. Thus the house stood in a most lonely, secluded spot, with
only the chimney and the top of the roof visible to the people of the
neighborhood.

Here Peter Jerrold lived with his daughter Hannah, who was now nearly
fifteen, and who had kept his house since her mother's death, which
occurred when she was twelve years old.

Bright, unselfish, and very pretty, Hannah was a general favorite with
the people of Allington and many were the merry-makings and frolics held
at the old farm-house by her young friends. But these were suddenly
brought to an end by a fearful sickness which came upon Hannah, and,
which transformed her from the light-hearted, joyous girl of fifteen,
into a quiet, reserved, white-faced