The Vicar of Wakefield by Oliver Goldsmith Page A

something
great.—'Well, my girls, how have you sped? Tell me, Livy, has the
fortune-teller given thee a pennyworth?'—'I protest, pappa,' says
the girl, 'I believe she deals with some body that's not right; for
she positively declared, that I am to be married to a 'Squire in
less than a twelvemonth!'—'Well now, Sophy, my child,' said I, 'and
what sort of a husband are you to have?' 'Sir,' replied she, 'I am
to have a Lord soon after my sister has married the
'Squire.'—'How,' cried I, 'is that all you are to have for your two
shillings! Only a Lord and a 'Squire for two shillings! You fools,
I could have promised you a Prince and a Nabob for half the money.'
This curiosity of theirs, however, was attended with very serious
effects: we now began to think ourselves designed by the stars for
something exalted, and already anticipated our future grandeur. It
has been a thousand times observed, and I must observe it once
more, that the hours we pass with happy prospects in view, are more
pleasing than those crowned with fruition. In the first case we
cook the dish to our own appetite; in the latter nature cooks it
for us. It is impossible to repeat the train of agreeable reveries
we called up for our entertainment. We looked upon our fortunes as
once more rising; and as the whole parish asserted that the 'Squire
was in love with my daughter, she was actually so with him; for
they persuaded her into the passion. In this agreeable interval, my
wife had the most lucky dreams in the world, which she took care to
tell us every morning, with great solemnity and exactness. It was
one night a coffin and cross bones, the sign of an approaching
wedding: at another time she imagined her daughters' pockets filled
with farthings, a certain sign of their being shortly stuffed with
gold. The girls themselves had their omens. They felt strange
kisses on their lips; they saw rings in the candle, purses bounced
from the fire, and true love-knots lurked in the bottom of every
tea-cup.
    Towards the end of the week we received a card from the town
ladies; in which, with their compliments, they hoped to see all our
family at church the Sunday following. All Saturday morning I could
perceive, in consequence of this, my wife and daughters in close
conference together, and now and then glancing at me with looks
that betrayed a latent plot. To be sincere, I had strong suspicions
that some absurd proposal was preparing for appearing with splendor
the next day. In the evening they began their operations in a very
regular manner, and my wife undertook to conduct the siege. After
tea, when I seemed in spirits, she began thus.—'I fancy, Charles,
my dear, we shall have a great deal of good company at our church
to-morrow,'—'Perhaps we may, my dear,' returned I; 'though you need
be under no uneasiness about that, you shall have a sermon whether
there be or not.'—'That is what I expect,' returned she; 'but I
think, my dear, we ought to appear there as decently as possible,
for who knows what may happen?' 'Your precautions,' replied I, 'are
highly commendable. A decent behaviour and appearance in church is
what charms me. We should be devout and humble, chearful and
serene.'—'Yes,' cried she, 'I know that; but I mean we should go
there in as proper a manner as possible; not altogether like the
scrubs about us.' 'You are quite right, my dear,' returned I, 'and
I was going to make the very same proposal. The proper manner of
going is, to go there as early as possible, to have time for
meditation before the service begins.'—'Phoo, Charles,' interrupted
she, 'all that is very true; but not what I would be at. I mean, we
should go there genteelly. You know the church is two miles off,
and I protest I don't like to see my daughters trudging up to their
pew all blowzed and red with walking, and, looking for all the
world as if they had been winners at a smock race. Now, my dear, my
proposal is this: there are our two plow horses, the Colt that has
been in