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Updated: June 26, 2025
I somehow found myself in his Highness's territories, of which anybody may read a description in the Almanach de Gotha. His Highness's father, as is well known, married Emilia Kunegunda Thomasina Charleria Emanuela Louisa Georgina, Princess of Saxe-Pumpernickel, and a cousin of his Highness the Duke.
And yet the news leaked out gently, and was soon known all through the neighborhood as a secret. "The luck of Lingborough's come back. Lob's lying by the fire!" He could be heard at his work any night, and several people had seen him, though this vexed Thomasina, who knew well that the good people do not like to be watched at their labours.
"Two heads with but a single thought went bobbing to the dust, And Todgers smiled sub rosa, and Miss Thomasina blushed; Then they seized their garden tackle and incontinently fled Down the box-edged pathways past the flower pots of red; Past the vivid green Venetians, past the window curtains white, Into their respective dwellings, and were seen no more that night.
As the parson bent over the hearth, Thomasina took Miss Kitty round the waist, and Miss Betty clutched her black velvet bag till the steel beads ran into her hands, and they were quite prepared for an explosion, and sulphur, and blue lights, and thunder. And then the parson's deep round voice broke the silence, saying, "Is that you, lad? GOD bless you, John Broom. You're welcome home!"
She was professionally addressed as "Tom," and Rhoda from her seat opposite, read the words, "Thomasina Bolderston," upon the label of the bag, and reflected that she had never heard a name more entirely appropriate to its owner. It was at once so ugly, so uncommon, and so arresting to the memory, while Tom herself, once seen, could never be forgotten, nor confounded with another girl.
Never had there been such a preserving season at Lingborough within the memory of Thomasina. The truth is, hobgoblins, from Puck to Will-o'-the-wisp, are apt to play practical jokes and knock people about whom they meet after sunset. A dozen tales of such were rife, and folks were more amused than amazed by Lob Lie-by-the-fire's next prank.
But Thomasina spoke in vain, for the parson opened the door, and as they pressed in, the moonlight streaming through the latticed window showed Lob lying by the fire. "There's his tail! Ay k!" screeched Annie the lass, and away she went, without drawing breath to the top garret, where she locked and bolted herself in, and sat her bandbox flat, and screamed for help.
The very demon of mischief danced in his black eyes, and seemed to possess his feet and fingers as if with quicksilver. And if, as Thomasina said, you "never knew what he would be at next," you might also be pretty sure that it would be something he ought to have left undone.
"It was February fourteenth, and the postman's rat-a-tat Made two hearts in Slocum Pocum beat a feverish pit-pat Thomas and Thomasina each in turn rushed doorwards and Snatched their respective missives from the post's extended hand; And the postman, wicked rascal, slowly winked the other eye, And said: 'Seems to me the old folks is a gettin' pretty spry. "They tore the letters open.
Rhoda felt an unaccountable curiosity to discover what hung at the end of that chain and rattled in so uncanny a fashion. "Well!" began Thomasina, tilting herself slowly forward on the points of her flat, wide shoes, "Well, and now about this little matter. I asked you to step in here because I think differences of opinion are more easily settled without an audience, and as it were, man to man."
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