« السابقةمتابعة »
This is the last dark night
and pay us tribute, we find that Inverness has laid the Of sorrow, and of pain!
following offering at our feet—the production of an able The eyes fast closing on the light,
and well-informed man:
A SKETCH AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.
In travelling through a fine country, or gazing upon a magnificent landscape, some particular spot generally
challenges the observation of the spectator—some sunny From an Icelandic Tale.
sheltered nook, or glimpse of solitary beauty, or seques Upon the snowy mountain-tops,
tered happiness which lives in the memory“ like the The summer sun is brightly shining,
lost Pleiad seen no more below," when all the surroundAnd round the ancient lava rocks,
ing objects have been obscured or obliterated by time and The green, and crimson moss is twining ; distance. In rambling lately through part of Ross-shire, Come to the misty waterfalls,
I was somewhat similarly impressed by a scene almost The silent brooks, and murmuring rills ;
wholly destitute of external attractions, unless these may Come to the place where Echo calls
be said to consist in rudeness, silence, and solitude. A Her dwelling is among the hills.
wilder spot can scarcely be imagined. Bleak heathery Sweet, sportive nymph! who lives unseen,
mountains, perpetually hooded by mist or snow-a rapid Mocking the wild-bird's melody;
leafless burn, brawling among the channelled rocks, and In thy deep glens and pastures green,
emptying itself into a small lake or tarn, ungraced by Fain would I spend my hours with thee! tree or bush-one solitary hut in ruins, though inhabited The breath of heaven, in balmy sighs,
-and a low-roofed decent church rising at a short dis Fanning the lonely flowerets sleeping ;
tance among the wilds, compose the features of the sombre The soft dews from the moonlight skies
landscape. Yet even here are objects for feeling and imaUpon their folded bosoms weeping;
gination to expand in, for these bare hills and moors The misty dawn, in silver grey,
have their tale to tell. The single solitary hut was but The golden morn, in beamy brightness,
lately one of eight habitations that stood upon a plot of Pouring the living streams of day
greensward_about half an acre—that, sheltered by the Upon the Yokul's snowy whiteness,
high hills, opened upon the lake. The cottagers jointly These meet the eye,and on the ear
rented a farm in the vicinity, and bred a few sheep and Sweet songs of birds—and murmuring water ; cattle for the southern markets. They had also laboured And then that airy harp, we hear,
hard to be able to purchase a boat, in which they occaOf thine, the desert's viewless daughter.
sionally ventured out to the herring-fishing in a neighNymph of the hills ! thy wild harp take,
bouring loch; and thus, from land and water, about forty Echo the desert's voices over ;
souls, the denizens, young and old, of the little glen, reapThen, oh! a sweeter music wake
ed a scanty, precarious living. One of those accidents, And breathe the name of Leila's lover !
however, to which mountainous regions are exposed, has We return from the Shetland Islands to Stockbridge, broken up the humble colony, and denuded the spot of its Edinburgh, and are happy to say that that portion of the last, as the cottagers were returning from church, they
only traces of cultivation, One fine Sunday in August Modern Athens may lay claim to the merit of having
saw a sad and fearful spectacle : The burn, which in given birth to the following simple and pretty ballad :
summer is scarcely perceptible, excepting by the track of JEANIE GRAHAM.— A BALLAD.
green verdure that marks its course along the heath, had The moonlight is sleeping on lofty Bonair,
swollen to the height of a torrent, and was hurling deThe sheep's in the fauld, and the deer in his lair,
struction on all that impeded its progress. A waterspout But I canna rest for my heart is frae hame,
had fallen among the higher hills and springs from which And awa' ower the muirlands to young Jeanie Graham. the burn is fed, and was rushing down to the loch with
irresistible strength and velocity. A small stone' bridge 0, gin ye e'er saw this sweet may's hazel ee,
that spanned the crags above the green where the burn Wi' its glintings o' gladness au' glamoury,
debouches, for some time offered resistance to the torrent, Ye wad think that the levin had shot through your frame, but at length was forced to yield. Trees, shrubs, straw, As ye drank the love glance o' the young Jeanie Graham. the debris of the flood, soon filled the arch, and prepared
the downfall of the bridge. It fell, as many more elaboJeanie Graham has a voice like the lark i’ the clud, rate structures have recently fallen under similar circumJeanie Graham has a cheek like the bonnie rose-bud, stances, and the passage of the stream was blocked up by Jeanie Graham has a neck like the snaw on the hill, the fast-descending mass of stones and rubbish. A new An'a bosom that's purer an' lovelier still.
channel was thus dug out by the torrent-it ploughed its
way through the little sylvan green, and out of the eight Like sunshine to simmer, or flowers to the bee,
cottages one only was left standing. Beds, chairs, tables, Like rest to the wearie, or light to the ee,
a cradle or two, and even the well-worn leaves of the Sae sweet to my saul is that dear lassie's name,
Gaelic Bible—all, in short, that served to furnish these My kind-hearted fair-bosom'd blythe Jeanie Graham.
simple dwellings, was speedily swept into the agitated
waters of the loch. Happily no lives were lost. Most Jeanie Graham has a step like the roe on the steep,
of the families, as I have stated, had been attending Jeanie Grabam has a heart that I gladly wad keep, church, and the few persons who remained behind had Jeanie Graham has a waist that I fondly wad span, clambered out of reach of the torrent. The walls of the Gin the pauky young cutty wad ca' me gudeman.
ruined cottages still remain, and a fine old ash-tree or
two wave over the spot. Not a vestige of the green is Oh! would she look kindly, and would she agree
left. The whole was either washed off into the lake, or To share cloud an' sunshine o' fortune wi' me,
covered with stones and shingle. She wad lighten my heart-she wad gladden my hame, And be queen o' them baith, my beloved Jeanie Graham! that I lingered for some time beside it, and before pursu
I was so touched by this silent, solitary scene of ruin, W. W.
ing my journey, made a visit to the minister, whose Looking round from our Editorial elevation upon the manse is about a hundred yards distant. He received numerous principalities and powers which do us homage me with kinduess, and informed me that collections had
FORGET ME NOT.
been made in his own and the neighbouring churches for As sunbeam on a wintry sky,
An' slowly rose she from her bed, to the eye one human habitation, but the worthy pastor
An' dried her bruckit een sae sair; said his congregation usually consisted of above a hundred Sype snooded she her silken locks, and fifty persons. Among the hills and dells are scatter- An' said that she wad grieve nae mair. ed numerous huts, which, though scarcely distinguishable from the heath, send forth duly every Sabbath morn
But the sigh wad come, an' the tear wad start,
Alas! she couldna weel tell how ! their inmates, young and old, to join in“ public worship.” Many of the cottars walk above twenty miles in going to
For the grief at her heart it wadna part, and from their church, and are rarely deterred by rain or
An' she spak' nae a word the haill day through! tempest from undertaking their pious task. The minister described his widely-scattered flock as strictly devout,
They saw her wasting frae the earth,
Like a bonny snaw-wreath, silently; and exemplary in the discharge of their respective duties.
Now she's aff to heaven, to dwell wi' her God, Their poverty and seclusion exempt them from the
In the blissfu' bowers o' eternity! flowery snares of pleasure, and the storms and vicissitudes of the climate press more closely upon their minds In a more vigorous and impassioned strain are the foltheir absolute dependence upon Him, who alone can still lowing verses, to which we willingly give a place : the raging of the tempest, and who measures out the waters in the hollow of his hand.
By John Mackay Wilson. Leaving this secluded Highland glen to repose in the happiness of its smuggled whisky and peat reek, we tra
Mindest thou, when scarcely breathing, vel to the Lowlands as fast as possible; and stopping at
As upon my bosom weeping, Dalkeith, we meet with a poet who might rank beside
· And thy virgin vow bequeathing, Hogg and Cunningham, could he always write ballads so
While the dusky gloaming creeping full of nature and patbos as
Slowly, dimly, over, round us,
In a holy transport bound us,
(Still the sound my soul rejoices,)
Sweet as heaven's youngest voices, “ What maks ye sab an' greet sae sair,
Thou didst sigh— Forget me not.
Dost thou wander by the river
Wed to hallow'd recollection ?
Think of scenes now fed for ever! “ Ye downa bide to do a turn;
Living, glowing, retrospection!
Big with rapture! rich in blessing !
Holy— dear beyond expressing !
Then, as memory cons them over,
Back recall thy absent lover, “ The neighbours, whispering, mark the change,
And forget me not !
Listen not to idle railing,
Nor defend when foes accuse me;
I despise their low assailing,
Slander now can but amuse me.
If I've draind the cup of pleasure,
In each mixture, every measure ;
He who trembles to avow it,
Nature never form'd a poet! “ An' how," said she to her sister Ann,
Then forget me not.
Worn with care, and study lonely,
If I mix'd with mirth and gladness,
Still I loved, and loved thee only! “ An' now that I'm forsaken, lass,
Loved ! till men have deem'd it madness. Oh, what for should I busk me braw ?
Then thy spirit hover'd o'er me,
From the smiles of others hore me;
Fancy heard thy raven tresses —
Laughing eye that spoke caresses, “ A cauld dead weight lies on my heart,
Say— Forget me not.
Forget thee !-No! thou dearest, never !
Through each change of joy or grieving,
Faithful once, and faithful ever, “ But, Jeanie, think on our mother's tears,
Shalt thou find me. Let deceiving
With eternal blight assail me,
Should I use it should I fail me
To redeem the pledge I've given
Both in sight of men and heaven !
Till then_forget me not.
Like that skilful master of the lyre, Timotheus, we
now pass at once to a different and more lively measuré ;
and they who relish genuine Scottish humour will read in London, for the purpose of presenting to his Excelthe following with no little satisfaction :
lency a friend of great merit, though unacquainted with BESSY's wOOING.
any language but his own, “ Pray,” enquired the latter,
anxiously,“ does the ambassador speak English ?"_“Yes," O guess ye wha's gane a-becking an' bowing,
said Sir Ralph, with a serious smile, “much better than Guess ye wha's gane a-billing an' cooing, Guess ye wha's gane a-coaxing an' wooing,
Finlay the Poet.—Not long before his death, Finlay To bonny young Bessy, the flower o' the glen ?
the poet had a dream, which made a deep and lasting im
pression on his mind. He supposed himself journeying Auld Sutor Rabbie, that trigs himsell brawly,
in a stage-coach between Edinburgh and Glasgow, and Auld Barber Wattie, that smirks aye sae waly,
all the passengers, inside and out, guard and driver inAuld Elder Johnie, sae meek an' sae haly,
cluded, were persons whom he knew to be dead for many Hae a' gane a-wooing to Bess o' the glen.
What kind of conversation passed among the
phantoms, or whether they held any or not, my informFat Deacon Sandy, the high council nabby, Wee Tailor Davy, sae glibby an' gabby,
ant did not know-as Mr Finlay, having partly eased his Dominie Joseph, sae threadbare an’ shabby,
mind by communicating the above particulars, always
declined farther mention of the appaling scene. Hae a' gane a-wooing to Bess o' the gleu.
A Minister of the Olden Time.
A minister of the olden Big Mason Andrew, sae heavily fisted,
time, happening to be upon his death-bed, fell suddenly Jock Gude-for-naething, wha three times has listed,
into a swoon, and reviving after some time, he said to Lang Miller Geordie, wi' meal a' bedusted,
those around him, “ A's safe noo, freens; I heard God Hae a' gane a-wooing to Bess o' the glen.
himsell saying—Make way for my obedient servant, Mr
John Scott.' Glee'd Cooper Cuddie, a' girded fu' tightly,
The Surgeon and his Apprentice.--A surgeon's apprenRed-nosed Sawyer Will, wi' his face shining brightly,
tice in Newcastle, having completed his engagement, went The tree-legged Pensioner, marching fu' lightly, forth into the world to push his fortune.
Several years Hae a' gane a-wooing to Bess o' the glen.
elapsed, and he began to fade from the remembrance even
of those whose hen-roosts and orchards he had pilfered, They're sighin' an' sobbin', an' vowin' an' swearin', or whose cats he bad hanged. At length, he returned to They're challengin', duellin', boxin' an' tearin', his native place in the character of a mountebank, and deWhile Bess, pawky jade, is aye smirkin' an'jeerin',- livered his introductory lecture right opposite to the shop There ne'er was a gill-flirt like Bess o' the glen. of his old master, who came to the door and began to
laugh heartily at what he saw and heard. “ Observe that But a young Highland Drover came here wi’some cattle, giggling fool,” said the quondam apprentice to his audience, Got fou, an' spak Gaelic, got fierce, an' gae battle, suiting the action to the word by pointing at the worthy An'a' the haill pack did he lustily rattle ;
doctor; "he does not know that, without one of my bottles, O was nae that fun to young Bess o' the glen ? he will be dead before to-morrow.” This alarming prog
postication was followed up by such cogent reasons, that, His weel-shapit shouthers caught Bessic's black eye- strange to tell, the bottle was actually bought, and adHer head gae a stound, an' her heart gae a sigh- ministered in terms of the label. Such is the power of An' now the bauld Drover's gien ower driving kye,
oratory For troth he's baith laird o' young Bess an’ the glen. A Family Connexion.— A gentleman of my acquaintance, Variety is the sum and substance of enjoyment, and while occupied in examining the sculptures over the burying one-half of the exquisite pleasure derived from the LITE- place of a noble family, observed a person of the lower class BARY JOURNAL is the infinite variety of its contents. sidling up to him with an air of much importance. My They who do not like “ The Brent-brow'd Lassie o' the friend thereupon, without seeming to withdraw his attenHill," or
Forget me not,” or “ Bessy's Wooing,” will tion from the insignia of the illustrious dead, devoted part of in all probability be perfectly enchanted with
it, nevertheless, in side glances, to the stranger, who, after
a preliminary cough, and elevation of his body so far beAnecdote of Dr Beattie.—Beattie, the author of the yond its previous height, that one might have fancied it Minstrel , bad such an antipathy to the fowl which he composed of India rubber, thus delivered himself : “I was
connected, sir, with that family."-" Indeed !” said my somewhere denominates "fell chanticleer," that the mere friend, not a little surprised at the shabby appearance of sight of it threw him into a state of agitation, which pre- this scion of nobility; “ How were you connected with vented him from attending to business or study for several it?"_“ In the shoeinaker line, sir.” hours afterwards. His students are said to have practised occasionally upon this weakness of his.
When they Now for two sonnets,-excellent little side dishes at a wanted a holiday, they contrived that the Doctor should great feast : meet, in the very threshold of his class-room, his most
ROSLIN CASTLE,A SONNEI. dreaded foe. Home he went, like one under the influence of enchantment. There is a stanza in the Minstrel, Ruin ! still proudly soaring o'er the wood, in which he apostrophizes, and calls down anathemas upon As the soul struggles through the frame's decay, the poor creature. Heconcludes with the following line,- How many a ruthless siege thy walls have stood " And ever in thy dreams the ruthless fox appear.”
Of howling hurricane and winter tiood ! James Boswell. --A gentleman who saw the celebrated
And still thou bravest them, though old and grey ; James Boswell passing through Glasgow on his way to
Even as a warrior stricken to the ground, Edinburgh, just before he set out on his Corsican expedi
Who, as he falls, still sternly looks around. tion, gives the following account of bis dress :—A cocked
How sweet to sit beneath thy ivied walls ! hat-brown wig coat ditto, made in the court fashion
How sad to muse within thy roofless balls !
Ah! when the evening wind, with plaintive tone, red vest — corduroy small-clothes—and long military
Murmurs its sad wild music in mine ear, looking boots. He was on horseback, with his servant at a most aristocratic distance behind, and presented a fine
I think that some lone spirit wanders here,
And fitting restlessly from stone to stone, specimen of the Scottish country gentleman of that day.
Croons of the olden days with ceaseless moan. Sir Ralph Abercrombie.—As Sir Ralph Abercrombie was proceeding to the residence of the Polish anbassador Banks of the Esk.
ANECDOTES COMMUNICATED BY THOMAS BRYDSON.
Our other sonnet comes from Glasgow :
theless, egotism, though so generally decried, is yet very
generally relished. It is, in fact, a common result of the SONNET.
changes and disappointments in the world; for these lead O that I had a life that could outrun
one to trust in nothing, and to take pleasure in nothing, but The steps of Time, and cheat the niggard King; what is within one's own breast. Melancholy is its proOutstare the weird looks of the age-worn sun,
per mood, and therefore a wit is seldom an egotist. The wrinkled moon, and all the stars that hing
All the characters in Shakspeare speak like real men In the broad welkin ; mock the wither'd skies;
and women. He himself never shines throughout. All Outlive the burial of the Earth's old bones;
his dialogues seem to spring from the circumstances of the See Heaven's bright daughters shut their haggish eyes,
In most of our other dramas, we find the And curl the lip at Nature's dying groans !
author himself bearing a conspicuous part, and hear him If this be vain, then better far to part,
prompting. There is, however, every variety of egotism When Nature, lovely maid, is in her bloom,
throughout Shakspeare's plays; for, as the characters come And bursts the bud of beauty,mere the heart
upon us like actual beings, we take their egotism, instead Is chill'd by hoary wedlock, or the gloom
of searching for the author's. Who does not love the Of dotage comes, to drink her vigour dry,
egotism of Jacques ?—of him who colours the air with And strew her wither'd beauties in the tomb.
the sombre light of his own thoughts—who shades the Glasgow.
H. M. G.
forest of Ardenne with the gloom of his own mind? It The author of the “ Lament of the Wandering Jew," is his philosophical egotism which lifts him above every another Glasgow bard of considerable promise, may very other character in the play. He thinks alone_reads boldly knock at the door of the Muses' Temple, if he can alone. Life is to him a world of reflection, and his own carry in his hand a bundle of such credentials as the fol- feelings and leas elevate him above the creatures breathlowing:
ing around. He laughs in the very face of mankind ! Hamlet is another Jacques ; but his life lies at court, not
in the woods. His great charm is his proneness to selfish Who are they so wildly weeping ?
thoughtfulness. The finest parts of Othello are where Infants springing into life ;
he speaks of his fiery love of battle; or his own personal Childhood's early eyelids steeping,
His farewell, for example, to the pride, Prophesying scenes of strife ;
pomp, and circumstance of war, is a genuine burst of Orphans by their bedsides bended
selfish sorrow. Desdemona loves him for his ardent reTo their Father in the sky ;
cital of his own feelings and dangers,—that is, for his Widows in the world unfriended,
egotism. Brutus is sternly egotistical. We are more Seeking for a home on high.
involved in the struggles of his cold philosophy, than in
the struggle of Rome itself. Macbeth becomes doubly Who are they so wildly weeping ?Fathers over erring boys ;
interesting after the murder, because crime drives bim Mothers by the cradle keeping,
more within himself. He grows distrustful of all the When the future fills their eyes ;
light is reproachful to him—society is a spy upon him— Sisters o'er a brother's madness ;
his palace is the hall of suspicion—he is a moody philosoBrothers o'er a sister's shame
pher, a gloomy abstract, amidst scenes of pomp and revelry Kind hearts over tales of sadness ;
-a plaything in the hands of superstition. Proud ones for a noble name.
Milton was not much of an egotist. His classical knowledge gave him a passionate love for the beautiful
and romantic, and the veil which hangs over bis writings Who are they so wildly weeping ?Exiles for their home again ;
hides him from common sight. But “ Lycidas," which Greece, whose bondaged heart is leaping
is one of the most pathetic pieces we can read, breathes Almost like to break
the elegant sorrow of a scholar and young enthusiast. It Afric's children wildly praying
is a long and uninterrupted piece of delightful egotism, 'Gainst a tyrant's curst control ;
and serves to show the feeling, learning, refinement, and Erin on her wild harp playing,
pleasures of the poet.— Pope is more lively in his satires Mourning for a shackled soul.
than in any other parts of his poetry, because they come
directly from the heart, and tell tales of himself.-Dr Who are they so wildly weeping ?
Johnson was a thorough egotist ; his asperities, his downThousands over friends no more ;
right assertions, his weighty reasonings, his charitable Yet why weep for friends now reaping
kindnesses, were all egotistical. --Lord Byron is another Joys upon a kinder sbore?
egotist, and became popular by his egotism. The public Sad Earth! thou dost not endear me,
would not have read - Childe Harold,” the “ Corsair," 0, to share Death's dreamless sleep!
or the “ Graour,” if they had been forbidden to speculate 0, to be where rest the weary,
on the resemblance between the fictitious characters, and And the wretched cease to weep!
the real character of the author.
T. B. J. Egotism is, therefore, a powerful instrument in the We are apt to be a little egotistical in our SLIPPERS, mental powers who knows how to turn it to good ac
hands of a man of genius, but it is only a man of strong but at no other period. With a very safe conscience,
count. therefore, we subjoin
E. Linton. In judging the comparative merits of authors, whether
Glasgow again “rushes red on our sight," and a very do we most admire him who can delight us with a sub-clever fellow there produces ject in which he himself makes little or no appearance, or him who, by simply versifying his own troubles and passions, acquires his popularity ? Most certainly the former. The pirate leant upon a gun, His imagination must be acute and rare, to effect his pur- And mark'd the war-ship bearing on; pose. He must accommodate himself to the subject; and Around, like bronzed statues, drew it is only in proportion to the genuineness, strength, and The fiercest of that outlaw'd crew : clearness of the original feeling, that a vivid and durable Bold, ruthless men, from every clime, impression can be produced on the mind of others. Never- A dark society of crime.
THOUGHTS ON EGOTISM.
And gloomy thought—and gloomier word
tense heat of the noonday sun. We bounded through the In that stern gathering were beard ;
suburbs of our little town, and soon found ourselves wanThey knew that flight and strife were vain, dering down a country road of great beauty, finely woodWith yonder brother of the main :
ed on either side, with mossy banks, and a clear stream But they swore to stand together yet,
rippling along under the shade of the rich foliage. We Till the last plank beneath them split.
thought of the hum of voices which we had left behind,
the black sliding board, Playfair's Euclid, and Hutton's It was a summer night—the moon
Mathematics, and a loud shout evinced the pleasure with Sail'd through the glorious skies of June;
which we left them all ;—pot that we were careless, howThe wind had sigh'd itself to rest
ever,-far from it,--we had an honourable desire of emuOn the old ocean's icy breast :
lation within us, and more than one of the party had carIt was too calm. Oh! for the gush
ried off medals, books, and penknives, as evidence of not Of tempests, and the black wave's rush !
having been behind when the annual day of trial and tri
bulation came. But the glorious prospect of a ramble for The vessels met,—the shot and shell
the best part of the day through a beautiful country, had In red and random ruin fell ;
pleasures for us far beyond what either Euclid or Hutton The shout--the groan—the mutter'd prayer- could ever afford. On we went, “ over bank and over The blasphemy of fierce despair
brae,” in search of the fellow whom we had the extreme The splintering yards, and shattering ship,
pleasure of being sent after, clearing hedges, ditches, dykes, Woke the wild echoes of the deep.
and burns, when they happened to come in our way, which I saw the pirate on the poop
was seldom the case, as we generally made that kind of
work to ourselves. The calmest of that reckless troop;
On we sallied, in the plenitude of Unwounded yet—though quick and hot
health and happiness, perfectly careless about meeting Around him flash'd the incessant shot ;
with the object of our search, yet resolute to take him vi
et armis, if he should come across our path. The beauty Pale, but unmoved in glance or brow,
of the day heightened our natural flow of spirits, and in He look'd upon the strife below.
the words of the laughter-loving Hood, we strode joyThe gun is silenced_hand to hand,
fully along, Glanced cutlass, pike, and boarding brand ;
“ Turning on earth,
All things to mirth,
As boyhood only can."
About two hours after first setting out, our advanced
guard of three came up with the culprit, walking quietly The war is o'er—the pirates break
along in the direction of his father's farm-steading, and And British warriors crowd the deck ;
busily engaged in reading Robinson Crusoe, that spiritThe magazine is fired—'tis done,
stirring narrative, so dear to the memory of boyhood, the A flash-a thunder-burst-a moan
romance of which has lately been almost rendered null and A yell upon the shuddering sea
void, by one John Howell's Life of one Alexander SelAnd the black smoke closed heavily.
kirk, about whom we don't care the value of a pin, and
of whom every true lover of Robinson Crusoe and his 'Tis done :-the sea is sleeping now,
man Friday would wish to hear and know nothing. WilWith scarce a wrinkle on its brow;
liam first turned his eyes to the farm, about half a mile But still the gurgled death-cry falls
distant, and made up his mind that running for it would On the hush'd ear at intervals,
not do, as he knew, to his oft-tried experience, that we With splash of shreds, that burst had sent were all pretty fleet of foot; he therefore faced about, and Far up into the firmament !
M. enquired (seemingly quite ignorant of our mission) what
we wanted with him; and before we could return an Let us go back once more to the hours of our boyhood,
answer to his question, he drew a clasp-knife from his and contrast the mightier projects of the present day with
pocket, and swore loudly and fiercely, that he would stab the varying hopes and fears which agitated our bosom the very first of us who should presume to lay hands on then. They are hours which every one delights to recall
; him! Immediately after this bravado, our rear-guard and the associations connected with which, the annexed made their appearance, debouching, as military men would little sketch may perhaps awaken:
say, from under a high thorn hedge. One of them, THE TRUANT.-A REMINISCENCE OF SCHOOL DAYS. Charles by name, a big, strong-boned fellow, went up and For he hath been a truant in the law."
told the deserter, now trembling with fear and rage, that Henry VI.
it was of no use to look big, but just to let himself be The roll had just been called over in the school at escorted to school in a regular manner, without any atfray. H-, when it was discovered that William Gordon, an At this moment, William sprang at Charles, and aimed incorrigible truant, had, for the twentieth time, taken a stroke with the knife at his breast ; happily it struck a leave of absence, and absconded from his daily labours. large metal button, and glancing aside, without doing much William was a boy of talent, and when it suited him, his mischief, the force of the mistaken blow brought Master studies gave him little or no trouble, having a ready con- William headlony to the ground. We disarmed him inception, and a retentive memory; but his ruling foible, stanter, and, fastening the runaway by the wrist to Charles, like some of the great ones of the present day, was ab- commenced our march homewards, narrowly escaping a senteeism; he was, moreover, rather passionate, and far chance of rescue from some young boors, who did not from being a favourite with his schoolfellows. The mas- relish the idea of seeing the “ Maister's Son” lugged along ter, a severe man, but an excellent teacher, as was his like a thief. We repelled the attack, however, by a hearty wont on such occasions, ordered out six chosen ones to go bicker, and, resuming our walk, got to the village without in search of the deserter. I was one of the happy num- farther interruption. ber ;-we received our instructions, and away we went. The school was just breaking up, and the beautiful senIt was on a morning in the lovely month of June, with tence, “ Take your hats," had just been uttered, when we a clear sunshine, and almost cloudless sky, excepting a entered with the truant. “ Back to your seats !" roared few fleecy clouds Aying before the light breeze, which the pedagogue ;--the deserted forms were filled in a moserved to correct, in the most agreeable manner, the in- ment, and all eyes were turned on us and our charge au