There was once a good–looking girl, the daughter of well–off country
folk, who was loved by an honest young fellow named John. He courted
her for a long time, and at last got her and her parents to consent to
his marrying her, which was to come off in a few weeks’ time.
One day as the girl’s father was working in his garden he sat down to
rest himself by the well, and, looking in, and seeing how deep it was,
he fell a–thinking.
“If Jane had a child,” said he to himself, “who knows but that one day
it might play about here and fall in and be killed?”
The thought of such a thing filled him with sorrow, and he sat crying
into the well for some time until his wife came to him.
“What is the matter?” asked she. “What are you crying for?”