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mer eve.

Say what we will, and even think as we may, youth tion, to make sure of the usual bolidays. His eye glisis the sun of our being, to which the soul, in its travel, tens and his brow brightens over verb and participle, as, turns from time to time to gaze with renewed and invi- with Horace in one hand, and a Gradus ad Parnassum gorated earnestness. Nay, in proportion as the distance in the other, he dovetails phrase, idiom, and vocable into increases, our attachment strengthens ;-

a regular petition, on which the Christmas pastimes of “ We drag at each remove a lingering length of chain.” the whole school depend. Jack still keeps an eye upon

the old corner, and purposes to spend his holidays with “ Scenes that soothed

the kindly faces and the warm hearts of home. Home, Or charm'd us young, no longer young, we find

of consequence, stares bim from every line, converting Still soothing, and of power to soothe us still ;"

the sluggish and torpid pain of prose into “ the sheptill, on the utmost verge of old age, we cast a tearful eye, herd's” trot of verse. and present a quivering lip, towards that distant horizon But Jack is now transformed into John, and has even from which the bright sun of our being ascended. Over been humanized into Joannes. He has commenced his the deep, and, in fact, indelible impressions of youth, other academical course, and is now spending his first winter and more recent characters may from time to time be at college. His mother, ever more than careful of her traced ; but Memory, even down to the latest period, will favourite, has stuffed his trunks with luxuries, under the be enabled to renew the original impressions. The Ma- designation of necessaries, and his father has not bera nuals and Psalters of riper years will not be able to unveil sparing of money or good advice. November has slowly from her eye those latent, but still existing characters, melted into December, whilst the dreary increase of darkwhich form, in fact, the classical page of her record. ness has made our young collegian dream again and again

At the commencement of a New Year, in particular, of home. But Christmas, though it comes but once awhen we are about to ring those changes over again, year, never forgets its appointment. It is wet and which have been so often, it may be, and unprofitably, windy—yet to him it is brighter and calmer than a sumrung before, it is scarcely possible for the most heedless to

It comes intrusted with a mother's embrace, escape retlection. It is at this season, in particular, that and a father's cordial welcome, with the cheerful fireside memory acts the “Old Mortality" with our early thoughts and merry sisterhood, and with the indefinite and incaland feelings, giving them a distinctness, wbich, at other culable enjoyments of the season. times, they do not possess. In the midst of company and

“ Joannes Horner, in classi prima," is now a bustling engrossing enjoyments, it is delightful to revert to our and agitated youth, on the eve of his departure for India boyish “ New Years."

--for that fairyland of promotion and treasure, from The sunny days of summer are exceedingly pleasant, which men return with castles and commissions in both particularly betwixt sunset and midnight, when the bat pockets. He is engaged in spending his last Christ. (like the schoolmaster of late years) is abroad, and the mas previous to his departure for the East. The embryo voice of the invisible land-rail is loud and harsh in the colonel is now in full feather of boyhood, and around furrow, and the night-clock is booming on the breath of him are collected those whom friendship and affectioa twilight; but then this is the season of repose, and, in bave endeared to him. Amidst the festivities of the fact, all sensible and well-disposed animals, with the ex- evening there is an overruling spirit of sadness, and the ception of owls and lovers, are now sound asleep. Sun- mother is often observed withdrawing from the view of rise, too, about the twenty-first of June, is, I have been those very gambols which her experience and good-nainformed on good authority, exceedingly splendid and re- ture had suggested. There is, besides, one of this party, freshing ; but then, again, it passes unheeded and unap- who, though she can lay no claim to consanguinity, is preciated by all whose consciences or evil deeds will per- perhaps dearer to him than a sister! mit them to sleep. Upon the whole, then, summer, after

Captain--Major-Colonel Horner, has now, after a all that has been said and sung about her, is in fact but protracted absence, returned to his home and his friends ; a sorry substitute for the snug evenings and social com- but the one is in the possession of a stranger, and the forts of winter-for their multiplied and diversified en- fond mother and the provident father of his youth are joyments,---over which“ woman,” in all the magic of her now sleeping under a marble slab, whilst that warm heart, presence,-over wbich, lamp, candle, and fire-light, are wbich beat so forcibly, almost so audibly, at his parting, wont to preside. From the heats and oppression, from has long ceased to experience joy or disappointment. the listlessness and langour, of a summer day, it is in

The present Christmas has arrived. “Colonel Horner's" vain to attempt an escape; whilst the snows, and frosts, hall is filled with guests, and the hours trip gaily along; and blusterings of winter,

yet still, as from his elbow-chair he casts his eyes over " But bind us to our cheery hearth the more !"

the merry group that now is, and recalls that which once

was, he sighs for the “ year that's awa!" The storms without “may rage and rustle," and may “de- The day it is short, and the winds they are chill, five the day delightless ;"— what is that to you and

And the mountains are whiten'd wi' sna'; our Christmas pie or our New-year's goose? Put but the Then fill up your glass wi' a hearty good will, poker a second time into that bleezing, sportive fire, and And," here's to the year that's awa!" we shall make even winter himself, under the snows of age, sing, and loudly, to

THE FROSTY DAY. “ The year that's awa !"

By William Tennant, Author of " Anster Fair," fc. “The year that's awa!" Ay, thereby hangs a tale, as long

Now the skies are clear and fair, as any of Canterbury,—a tale which links the cradle to Not a cloud doth harbour there; the sod--the joys of childhood with the sorrows of age-a Thrilling frost doth purify tale which takes up “ little Jack Horner,” sitting in his AU the rheum-engendering sky; corner, amazingly snug, eating his Christmas pie! And Now heaven's jasper joists are seen, what lady or gentleman is there in this merry Christmas- Now the sun, from ocean green, party who does not envy Jack?—the little rogue, how Doth his princely head unfold, knowingly he puts in his thumbs and pulls out the plums,

Tiara'd with more burning gold, congratulating himself all the while on his good conduct,

And, as we sit at breakfast all, which he evidently substitutes for his good fortune, “Oh! Flings our blithe shadows on the wall. what a good boy was I !"

But Jack has now entered upon bis teens. Associated Now his steeds, with lazy leap, with his fellows, he is now busy penning a Latin peti.

Seem to slant along the deep;

me,

over

Gently, gently jogg'd and driven Up their little arc in heaven ; Now he's on his mid-day tower, Yet our windows scoff his power ; See the forests rich and fair, Painted by Frost's finger there, How they fourish in his spite Frozen foliage, wild and white !

Frozen forests only now
Flourish on our panes and grow ;
Look! Earth's groves, how lean and bare !
How they shiver in the air !
Fringerl with rime all crisp and hoary,
Not a leaf to tell their glory!
Hedges, too, are stripped clean,
Robin finds them now no screen,
But our thresholds ventures near,
Pecking, pecking, without fear.

Hark! how sounds are heard from far!
Clank of hoof and clattering car !
How the sliding school-boy's shout
Rattles in the sky about!
How the skater's iron heel
Grides the ice with sudden wheel !
And the curler's stones rebound,
And the echoes round and round
Shout to the large-orbed sun,
What merry feats on ice are done!

A STORY OF THE FORTY-SIX.

By the Ettrick Shepherd. Ox the 17th of July, 1746, there was a tall raw-boned Highlander came into the house of Inch-Croy, the property of Stewart Shaw, Esq., in which there was apparently no person at the time but Mrs Shaw and her three daughters, for the Laird was in hiding, having joined the Mackintoshes, and lost two sons at Culloden. This Highlander told the lady of the house that his name was Sergeant Campbell, and that he had been commissinned to search the house for her husband, as well as for Cluny, Loch-Garry, and other proscribed rebels. Mrs Shaw said, that she would rather the rudest of Cumberland's English officers had entered her house to search for the Prince's friends, than one of the Argyle Campbells—those unnatural ruffians, who had risen against their lawful Prince, to cut their brethren's throats.

The Highlander, without being in the least ruffled, requested her to be patient, and added, that at all events the ladies were safer from insult in a countryman's hands, than in the hands of an English soldier. The lady denied it, and in the haughtiest manner Aung bim the keys, saying, that she hoped some of hers would yet see the day when the rest of the clans would get their feet on the necks of the Campbells. He lifted the keys, and instantly commenced a regular and strict scrutiny; and just as he was in the act of turning out the whole contents of a wardrobe, the lady, in the meanwhile, saying the most cutting things to him that she could invent, he stood straight up, looked her steadily in the face, and pointed to a bed, shaking his hand at the same time. Simple as that motion was, it struck the lady dumb. She grew as pale as death in a moment, and both she and her eldest daughter uttered loud shrieks at the same instant. At that moment there entered an English officer and five dragoons, who hasted to the apartment, and enquired what was the matter.

“ 0, sir,” said Mrs Shaw, “ here is a ruffian of a sergeant, who has been sent to search the house, and who, out of mere wantonness and despite, is breaking every thing, and turning the whole house topsy-turvy."

“ Oho! is that all ?" said the cornet : “ I thought he had been more laudably employed with your ladyship or some of the handsome young rebels there. Desist, you vagabond, and go about your business ;—if any of the proscribed rebels are in the house, I'll be accountable for them."

“ Nay, nay," said the Highlander, “I am first in commission, and I'll hold my privilege. The right of search is mine, and whuever are found in the house, I claim the reward. And moreover, in accordance with the orders issued at head-quarters, I order you hence."

“ Show me your commission then, you Scotch dog ; your search-warrant, if you so please ?"

“ Show me your authority for demanding it first."

“My designation is Cornet Letham of Cobham's dragoons, who is ready to answer every charge against him. Now, pray tell me, sir, under whom you hold your coin mission ?"

“ Under a better gentleman than you, or any who ever commanded you."

“ A better gentleman than me, or any who ever commanded me?- The first expression is an insult not to be borne. The other is high treason ; and on this spot I seize you for a Scotch rebel, and a traitor knave."

With that he seized the tall red-haired loon by the throat, who, grinning, heaved his long arm at bim as threatening a blow, but the English officer only smiled coqtemp:uously, knowing that no single man of that humiliated country durst lift his hand against him, especially backed as he was by five sturdy dragoons. He was mistaken in this instance, for the Highlander lent him such a blow as felled him in a moment, so that, with a heavy groan, he fell dead on the floor. Five horse-pistols were instantly pointed at the Highlander by the dragoons, but

Now the sun is setting fast,
Sie! his disk, how broad and vast !
Gilding every chimney-head
With his arrows, fiery-red ;
Whilst, in contrast with his beams,
Dusky smoke each chimney streams;
Up it rises straight and high,
Pillars joining earth and sky:
Now the sun is down ; and all
Curlers court their dining-hall.
Come, my friend, and dine with me,
Or let me banquet it with thee;
Or let us seek some neutral room,
Where fire and candles chase the gloom;
With simple cates and mod'rate wine,
Where Plato's sapient self might dine;
With speech of unprepared flow,
And hearts of ne'er-abating glow,
And childhood's gladsome, guiltless glee,
Mix'd with divine philosophy.

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And ever and anon our theme
Be the great Dead, of mind supreme;
The sense of Plutarch, Homer's tire,
Anacreon's feast-rejoicing lyre ;
Luxariant Livy, Tully sage,
Or Shakspeare's passion-painting page ;
Wild Ariosto's buxom bloom,
Or Dante's bell-depicting gloom :
(His gloom will but the more up-light
Our spirits with celestial light.)

But should our supple souls unbend,
And Laughter's jolly star ascend,
A thousand themes, as bright as morn,
By every passing day are born ;
There's little doubt, I think, we'll find
Rich funds of laughter to our mind ;
That Horace' self, were he alive,
And knew he how our humours thrive,
Would leave his Sabine farm to be
The third glad soul with you and ine!

he took shelter behind the press, or wardrobe, and with dred dangers, mostly arising from their own friends. In his cocked pistol in one hand, and drawn broadsword, kept particular, the very first night of their flight, in one of the them at bay, for the entrance ben the house was so nar- woods of Athol, at the dead of the night, they were surrow, that two could not enter at a time; and certain rounded by a party of the Clan-Donnach, and would have death awaiting the first to enter, none of them chose to been sacrificed, had not Stewart Shaw called out, “ Jorun the risk. At length two of them went out to shoot lach! Càrdeil Cearlach !" or some words to that effet, him in at a small window behind, which hampered him which awakened as great an overflow of kindness. Co terribly, as he could not get far enough forward to guard lonel Roy Stewart and Loch-Garry escaped on foot, and * his entry, without exposing himself to the fire of the two fled towards the wild banks of Loch-Erriched, where they at the window. An expedient of the moment struck him; remained in safety till they went abroad with Prince he held his bonnet by the corner of the wardrobe, as if Charles. peeping to take aim, when crack went two of the pistols It is amazing how well this incident was kept secret, at his bonnet, his antagonists having made sure of shoots as well as several others that tended to the disgrace of the ing him through the head. Without waiting farther, either royalists, owing to the control they exercised over the to fire or receive theirs, be broke at them with his drawn press of the country; but neither Duke William, ex sword; and the fury with which he came smashing and one of his officers, ever knew who the tall red-haired Setswearing up the house on them appalled them so horri. geant Campbell was, who overthrew their six dragoonis. bly, that they all three took to their heels, intending pro- The ladies of Inch-Croy did not escape so well, fue bably to fight him in the open fields. But a heavy dra- Cumberland, in requital for a disgrace in which they goon of Cobham's was no match for a kilted clansman six were nowise influential, sent out another party, who feet high ; before they reached the outer door, two of plundered the house and burnt it, taking the ladies into them were cut down, and the third, after a run of about custody, and every thing else that was left on the lanes thirty or forty yards. By this time, the two at the west of Inch-Croy and Bally-Beg-an instance of that mean window had betaken them to their horses, and were gal and upgentlemanly revenge for which he was so notoriloping off. The Highlander, springing on the officer's ous. horse, galloped after them, determined that they should not escape, still waving his bloody sword, and calling on THE SEA-BIRD WANDERING INLAND. them to stop But stop they would not; and a grander pursuit never was seen. Peter Grant and Alexander

By Mrs Hemans. M'Eachen, both in hiding at the time, saw it from Craig- Thy path is not as mine:- Where thou art blest

My spirit would but wither ;-my own grief Neart, at a short distance, and described it as unequalled.

Is in mine eyes a richer, holier thing There went the two dragoons, spurring on for bare life, Than all thy happiness. the one always considerably before the other, and, behind Hath the summer's breath, on the south wind borne, all, came the tall Highlander, riding rather awkwardly, Met the dark seas in their sweeping scorn? with his bare thighs upon the saddle, his philabeg flying Hath it lured thee, Bird! from their sounding cavesy about his waist, and he thrashing the hind quarters of To the river shores where the osier waves ? his horse with his bloody sword, for lack of spurs and · whip. He did not appear to be coming up with them, Or art thou come on the hills to dwell, but nevertheless cherishing hopes that he would, till bis Where the sweet-voiced Echoes have many a cell? horse foundered with him in a bog, and threw him; he Where the moss bears print of the wild deer's tread, then reluctantly gave up the chase, and returned, leading And the heath like a royal robe is spread ? his horse by the bridle, having got enough of riding for that day.

Thou hast done well, oh! thou bright Sea-bird ! The two Highlanders, M'Eachen and Grant, then ran

There is joy where the song of the lark is heard, from the rock and saluted him, for this inveterate High. With the dancing of waters through copse and dell, lander was no other than their own brave and admired And the bee's low tune in the fox-glove's bell. Colonel, John Roy Stewart. They accompanied him back to Inch-Croy, where they found the ladies in the greatest Thou hast done well :--Oh! the seas are lone, dismay, and the poor dragoons all dead. Mrs Stewart And the voice they send up bath a mournful tone ; Shaw and her daughters had taken shelter in an out- A mingling of dirges, and wild farewells, house on the breaking out of the quarrel ; and that which litfully breathed through its anthem-swells. distressed her most of all was, the signal which the tremendous Highlander made to her; for, beyond that bed, -The proud Bird rose as the words were said: there was a concealed door to a small apartment, in which The rush of his pinion went o'er my head, her husband, and Captain Finlayson, and Loch-Garry, And the glance of his eye, in its bright disdain, were all concealed at the time, and she perceived that that Spoke him a child of the haughty main. door was no secret to Sergeant Campbell, as he called himself. When the pursuit commenced, the ladies hasted He hath flown from the woods to the ocean's breast, to apprise the inmates of their little prison of the peril To his pride of place on the billow's crest ! that awaited them ; but they refused to fly till matters -Oh! who shall say, to a spirit free, were cleared up, for they said, that one who was mangling There lies the pathway of bliss for thee !" the red coats at such a rate, could scarcely be an enemy to them. We may conceive how delighted they were

CHRISTMAS IN OUR OWN LAND. on finding that this hero was their brave and beloved Colonel Stewart. He knew that they were concealed in By Dr Memes, Author of Life of Canova," History that house, and in that apartment; and perceiving, from of Sculpture, Painting, and Architecture," ģc. the height where he kept watch, the party of dragoons Yea, Truth and Justice then come in at the strait of Corry-Bealach, he knew to what

Orb'd in a rainbow;

and, like glories wearing, place they were bound, and hasted before them, either to Mercy did sit between, divert the search, or assist his friends in repelling the ag

Throned in celestial sheen,

With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering, gressors.

And heaven as at some festival, There was now no time to lose. Mr Shaw, Captain Did open wide the gates of her high palace hall. Finlayson, Alexander M'Eachen, and another gentleman, CHRISTMAS !-mysterious, but wise and beneficent frawhose name I have lost, mounted as King George's dra- ming of the heart, over which a single sound can this goons, effected their escape to Glasgow through a hun-call into power and efficacy countless sympathies, and in

Did down return to men,

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finite in their mingled modes of action. In these our We touch a theme whose solemnity comes over the own happy isles, renowned as they are for all the cha- light casualties of our subject, like the reflections which rities of social converse, where the very air of heaven falls should now mingle with our rejoicings. At this season upon the sense, and is loved

we stand upon the point which separates the past from

the coming futurity. Another year has almost number. “ As breeze that o'er our home has blown"

ed its latest sands, since last Christmas. Death, which one of the most cheering reminiscences of Christmas can never be far from any one of us, hath to each apperhaps its almost sole charm-arises from the reunions proached a pace nearer. The shadow is stealing upon which then take place. For one brief and precarious our hour ;-how many divisions of the circuit yet repause, the conventional movements of ordinary life stand | main-we know not; but of this we are assured, that still.

The dread and imperious influence which bears us another portion is now darkened, over which the beams away in the general revolution, is stayed for a moment, of light and life shall never tremble more, until the Sun and the heart again moves within the sphere of its own of Righteousness arise! Such meditations are wholeaffections. Our entire population is beheld gathered into some-they purify and moderate, without clouding, joy: groups, each little circle, while gladdened by its own more impressive, yet more cheering, than the voice that peculiar happiness, diffusing the light of cheerful faces warned the Eastern conqueror,--they bid us remember and grateful hearts over a whole land! If, again, we pass that we are both mortal and immortal beings. within the pale of any one of these communities, how well-ordered mind, the high and solemn musings of eterhallowed, how infinitely removed from selfishness, is the nity give to the things of time their proper value. They enjoyment there sought and found, how generous are the resemble the deep swell of the organ pealing above lighter sympathies which attach its members ! Throughout all, sounds, but imparting sustained effect and soul-searchthe object is one and the same the happiness of feeling ing power to the whole barmony. Yet-yet must many that our happiness is shared with others. Through every an oppressed one bend beneath the load of memory. Oh! gradation of rank or attachment, or conceivable modifi- there do arise at this happy season, thoughts of what cation of tie, is to be traced this common and universal has been-thoughts of those who lately were—thoughts sentiment. Even those who hang loosest upon society, that overshadow our whole being with settled, unmitinow vindicate their claims to the possession of its chari- gable grief. Even amid that sweet concord which the ties, and furnish out an humble modicum of common Christian prays may bless his ear, where the voice of bilarity. Ah! let not the self-righteous moralist, who nature blends in submissive sympathy to the voice of has never known their labours nor their wants, frown God, there are flung by human weakness, notes of piercing harshly upon their occasional aberrations here ; but while agony-sounds so deep and full of woe, he reproves, let him compare them with the same class

“ That they would give a tone in any other nation, and cherish an honest pride in his Of sorrow-as for something lovely gone countrymen.

Even to the spring's glad voice.” The circumstances now pointed out, this separate group. To such, we cannot say—be comforted. Alas! sad exing of the actors on the festive scene, this awakening of perience replies, they will not be comforted—for those the very elements, as it were, of social happiness in one of its richest and most universal displays, peculiarly and tions, which bound at once to earth and heaven, may be

they loved are not. A link in the golden chain of affechonourably distinguish our solemn festival. Among our neighbours on the Continent, the domestic hearth, the formed the sunlight of our life, who cheered even our

broken ;—some dear familiar face, whose gentle smile only altar of the household divinities whom they ignorant- latest Christmas, may be darkened to all

, save one faithly worship in public, and the domestic circle, the true sphere of the social charities, are little known-apparently there we shall meet again.

ful memory ;—but there is an eternal festival on highless regarded. In their festivities we have seen much mirth, much of general good will towards each other, and have experienced not a little of personal courtesy ; but all this

STANZAS. wanted intensity and heart, and satisfying fulness of in-By John Malcolm, Author of Tales of Field and dividual traits. On one occasion we passed the Christ

Flood,"

,” “ Scenes of War, and other Poems," &c. &c. mas in Rome, began the carnival at Naples, and finished this gayest of Catholic holidays amid the thoughtless

While on thy beauty mine eye reposes, crowds of a Sicilian masquerade. But the hollowness of I feel as one, in the dreams that bring what ought to have been held sacred and sincere_the Around his slumbers the vanished roses, utter childishness of what was intended to amuse, and

And blessed visions of life's sweet spring; the heartlessness of all, has left only a remembrance where

And to the bosom thine image clinging, pity mingles with a strong feeling of disapprobation, as far Still haunts the heart, like some witching strain, as one man has a right to disapprove of usages, which That, heard in youth, from the past comes singing former habits may prevent his entertaining in their ge

The spirit back into youth again. nuine influences.

And in the smiles o'er thy face that lighten, In these countries, Christmas is more especially a re

The hues of feeling all mingled glow, ligious festival. Even in England, this, to a considerable

Like sunny glories that blend and brighten extent, is the case. We cannot help thinking, that in this

O'er summer's sky in its beaming bow. respect also the practice of our own Church is both more

And like tbe wave no rude wind is swelling, evangelical, and more in accordance with the real nature

Thy brow reflects, in its cloudless rest, and objects of devotional exercises. Never, never can

The Heaven of peace, that hath made its dwelling the Christian cease to have before him “ that goodness

Within thy dovelike and gentle breast. infinite,” which renders this a day of rejoicing : but we are not commanded to hold it solemn—the work was And with thy light of the morn are twining not then finished; there is one festival appointed, and by No pensive shades that pale sorrows weave departing from this ordinance, distraction is introduced Or such as steal o'er the day's declining, between opposite duties and states of mind. Nor needs To give dark hint of the coming eve ;there human device here to impress the thoughts ;-never And from sad thoughts all the spirit raising, will the grateful aspiration arise to heaven more fer- Like some fair vision of yonder sky, vent- more sincere from the full heart, than when I half forget-on thy form while gazing breathed in the very sanctuary upon earth, of its best, That aught so lovely can ever die. purest, most heaven-ward affections.

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at Lord Gort's, down to little deaf Bess Mortican, the lame NORAH CLARY'S WISE THOUGHT.

dressmaker) were regularly and desperately in love with ; By Mrs S. C. Hall, Author of Sketches of Irish -still, I must confess, (perfection certainly was never Characier."

found in man,) Morris was at times a little the least bit

in the world—stupid ;—not exactly stupid either, but slow “ We may as well give it up, Morris Donovan ; look, of invention,—would fight his way out of a thousand 'twould be as easy to twist the top off the great Hill of scrapes, but could never get peaceably out of one. No Howth, as make father and mother agree about any one wonder then, that, where fighting was out of the ques thing. They've been playing the rule of contrāry these tion, he was puzzled, and looked to the ready wit of the twenty years ; and it's not likely they'll take a turn now.” merry Norah for assistance. It was not very extraordi

“ It's mighty hard, so it is,” replied handsome Morris, nary that he loved the fairy creature the sweetest, gay“ that married people can't draw together. Norah, dar- est of all Irish girls ;- light of heart, light of foot, light lint! that would'nt be the way with us. Sure, it's one of eye,now weeping like a child over a dead chieken er we'd be in heart and sowl, and an example of love and" a plundered nest, then dancing on the top of a hay-rick

Folly," interrupted the maiden, laughing. “ Morris, to the music of her own cheering voice ;-now coaxing Morris, we've quarrelled a score o' times already ; und, to her termagant mother, and anon comforting her besmy thinking, a bit of a breeze makes life all the pleasanter. pecked father. Do not let my respected readers imagine Shall I talk about the merry jig I danced with Phil Ken- that Mr and Mrs Clary were contemptible Irish bogstrenedy, or repeat what Mark Doolen said of me to Mary ters, with only a plot of pratees, a pig, and a one-roomed Grey ?-eh, Morris ?”

cabin. No such thing; they rented an hundred good The long black lashes of Norah Clary's bright brown acres of bright meadow-land, and their comfortable, though eyes almost touched her low, but delicately pencilled somewhat slovenly farm-yard, told of abundance and ta brows, as she looked archly up at her lover; her lip curl- spare. Norah was their only child; and had it not been ed with a half-playful, half-malicious smile; but the glance for the most ungentle temperament of Mistress Clary, was soon withdrawn, and the maiden's cheek glowed with they would have been the happiest as well as the richest a deep and eloquent blush, when the young man passed family in the district. his arm round her waist, and, pushing the clustering curls “I am not going to laugh, Morris," replied the little from her forehead, gazed upon her with a loving but maid at last, after a very long pause ; “ I've got a wise mournful look.

thought in my head for once. His reverence your uncle, “ Leave joking, now, Norry; God only knows how you say, spoke to father-to speak to mother about it? I I love you,” he said, in a voice deep and broken by emo- wonder (and he a priest) that he had’nt more sense. Sure tion. “ I'm ye'r equal, as far as money goes, and no mother was the man ;-but I've got a wise thoughtyoung farmer in the country can tell a better stock to Good night, dear Morris ; good night.” his share than mine ; yet I don't pretend to deserve you, The lass sprang lightly over the fence into her own garfor all that; only, I can't help saying, that when we den, leaving her lover perdu at the other side, without love each other, (now, don't go to contradict me, Norry, possessing an idea of what her “ Wise Thought” might because ye’ve as good as owned it over and over again,) be. When she entered the kitchen, matters were going and ye'r father agreeable, and all, to think that ye'r mo- on as usual—her mother bustling in glorious style, and a ther, just out of divilment, should be putting betwixt us, cross (her husband muttered)" as a bag of weazles." for no reason upon earth, only to 'spite' her lawful hus- “ Ye'r a pair of lazy hussies !” she exclaimed to two fat, band, is what sets me mad entirely, and shows her to be red-armed, stockingless handmaids; “ d'ye think I can a good-for”

keep ye in idleness? Ten cuts to the dozen !-why, tha Stop, Mister Morris," exclaimed Norah, laying her wouldn't keep ye in pratees, let alone salt—and such illihand upon his mouth, so as effectually to prevent a sound gint flax too! Barney Leary, ye dirty ne'er-do-good, can escaping ; “ it's my mother ye'r talking of, and it would ye find no better employment this blessed night than kik. be ill-blood, as well as ill-bred, to hear a word said against ing the turf-ashes in the cat's face? Oh! ye'll be emate an own parent. Is that the pattern of ye'r manners, sir, for the ravens yet, that's one comfort! Jack Clary," ad. or did ye ever hear me turn my tongue against one be- dressing herself to her husband, who sat quietly in the longing to you ?”

chimney corner smoking his doodeen, “ it's well ye're get " I ax ye'r pardon, my own Norah," he replied meekly, a wife who knows what's what! God help me, I've litas in duty bound ; " for the sake o' the lamb, we spare tle good of a husband, barring the name! Are ye sure the sheep. Why not; and I'm not going to gainsay—but Black Nell's in the stable ?" (The sposo nodded.) « The ye'r m sher"

cow and the calf, had they fresh straw ?” (Another nod.) “ The least said's the soonest mended!” again interrupt- “ Bad cess to ye, man alive, can't ye use ye'r tongue, and ed the impatient girl. Good even, Morris, and God answer a civil question !" continued the lady. bless ye; they'll be after missing me within, and it's lit- “My dear,” he replied, “ sure one like you has enough tle mother thinks where I am."

talk for ten." Norah, 'bove all the girls at wake or pattern, I've This very just observation was, like most truths, so been true to you.

We have grown together, and, since disagreeable, that a severe storm would have followed, ye were the height of a rose-bush, ye have been dearer to had not Norah stept up to her father, and whispered in me than any thiug else on earth. Do, Norah, for the sake his ear, “I don't think the stable-door is fastened." of our young hearts' love, do think if there's no way to Mrs Clary caught the sound, and in no gentle terms orwin ye'r mother over. If ye'd take me without her leave, dered her husband to attend to the comforts of Black sure it's nothing I'd care for the loss o' thousands, let Nell. “ I'll go with father myself and see,” said Norah. alone what ye've got. Dearest Norah, think, since you'll “ That's like my own child, always careful,” observed the do nothing without her consent, do think—for once be mother, as father and daughter closed the door. serious, and don't laugh."

“ Dear father," began Norah, “it isn't altogether about It is a fact, equally known and credited in the good the stable I wanted ye-but-but-the priest said somebarony of Bargy, that Morris Donovan really possessed an thing to ye to-day about-Morris Donovan." honest, sincere, and affectionate heart,-brave as a lion, “ Yes, darling, and about yerself, my sweet Norry." and gentle as a dove. He was, moreover, the priest's ne- Did ye speak to mother about it?" phew,-understood Latin as well as the priest himself; No, darling, she's been so cross all day. Sure, I go and, better even than that, he was the Beau, the Magnus through a dale for pace and quietness. If I was like A pollo of the parish ;-a fine, noble-looking fellow, that other men, and got drunk and wasted, it might be in all the girls (from the housekeeper's lovely English niece rason—But that's neither here nor there. As to Morris

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