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"These and many other combinations too numerous to mention, enable the performer to produce an almost endless variety of tone and power; the mechanism by which they are accomplished is highly ingenious, and extremely complicated; yet unnecessary weight and friction have been so carefully avoided, that the touch is not unpleasantly stiff. The total number of stops is upwards of forty, but the draw-stops, from the causes before mentioned, amount to upwards of sixty. The tone is sublime and soothing, and not in the slightest degree harsh or coarse. The full effect, however, has not yet been heard, as from some strange delay, several of the reed stops have not yet (Feb. 1835) been put in their places. An inspection of the interior of this immense piece of mechanism is a high treat to every scientific person, and never fails to produce feelings of admiration and astonishment, with a deeper conviction of the extent and variety of those " capacious powers" that "lie folded up in man."

The organ is the property of the Governors of the General Hospital, and was built at their expense, (assisted by voluntary contributions,) for the use of the musical festivals. It is an honour to the builder, to its spirited proprietors, and to the town in which it stands.

roof whole, to the top of the building, a height of seventy | two open double diapason stops, the one wood, the other feet from the outside of the building. An accident oc- metal, which are played by them only. The largest pipe curred in this operation by the hook of a pully block of each of these stops is thirty-two feet long, and sounds breaking, which killed two workmen. They were interred a note two octaves below C C. There are also two ocin St Philip's church-yard, and a monument erected to taves of finger keys on the left of the great row, which their memory, by their employers aud their fellow work- act upon the pedals, thus enabling a second performer to men. The monument consists of the base of one of the take the bass part, without inconveniencing the principal pillars, wrought by one of the sufferers, for the Hall. performer by sitting with him. The ceiling was framed in compartments and lathed ready for fixing. The scaffold for the interior and ceiling were constructed upon a novel plan; yet with all the economy that could possibly be used in the building, and in procuring materials for its erection, the parties became bankrupt, and were unable to finish the work, having undertaken it at about £4,000 less than ought to have been paid for its erection. The sureties have been obliged to pay the difference; and Mr. Foster of Liverpool has been engaged to finish the work, which was in a very forward state at the time of the bankruptcy. "The building was commenced on the 27th of April, 1832, and although prepared for the Musical Festival, in October, 1834, it was not finished till 1835. The external length of the building is one hundred and sixty feet, and the width about ninety feet. The internal length of the large Hall is one hundred and forty feet by sixty-five feet, and the height to the ceiling is sixty-five feet. The basement is twenty-three feet. There are thirty-two fluted Corinthian columns, after an example of the temple of Jupiter Stator at Rome, thirty-six feet high, and three feet six inches in diameter, which supports the entablature. The entablature is nine feet and the pediment fifteen feet, making a total height of eighty-three feet to the acroterum. The building is brick, faced with Anglesea marble, which is very hard and durable. An addition was made to the arcade, in front, without adding to the beauty of the work or much to the utility of it, contrary to the original design, which was to have been a single arched piazza, instead of a double one, as it now stands. The internal construction of the hall is convenient, and fully answers the expectations of the public. It is in fact considered the best Musical Hall in the kingdom. There is a narrow gallery on each side, and one of considerable depth at the east end. The west end is occupied by the organ and convenience for the performers. Fluted Corinthian pilasters ornament the spaces between the windows. The ceiling is a chaste and splendid specimen of art, and universally admired. There are two tier of low corridors along each side of the building, communicating with the floor and the side galleries. The Hall was opened for the Musical Festival, in October, 1834, and has since been used for several concerts, political, and other meetings. At the nomination of members for the borough, January 7, 1835, the large gallery was so much crowded that the pannelling in front gave way, and many persons were precipitated into the body of the hall. Several were severely hurt and many bruised. The hall will seat about four thousand persons, and will hold from eight to ten thousand standing.

"The Organ is a truly magnificent instrument and was built by Mr. Hill, of London. The term " built" is with propriety applied to this organ, which is thirty-five feet wide, fifteen feet thick, and forty-five feet high.

"It has four rows of finger-keys, of six octaves each, extending from C an octave below CC, to C in altissimo. The three lower rows act as is usual in large organs, viz. on the choir organ, the great organ, and the swell, which descends to CC. The fourth, or upper row, has no pipes of its own, but any stop in the choir or swell may be played upon it, whether it is or is not drawn out for use on any other row of keys. To effect this, every stop in the choir organ and swell, has two draw-stops, one of which will cause it to sound from the usual finger keys, the other will cause the same pipes to sound from the upper or combination row.

"A peal of small bells, which are fixed in the swell, are played on by the upper row of keys only; they have a novel, but not a very rich effect. Below the finger keys, and on a level with the floor, are two octaves of pedal keys. These act upon the corresponding finger keys of the choir and great organ at pleasure, and have besides,

There are about one hundred pipes, from sixteen to thirty-two feet long. The total number, it is expected, will exceed six thousand. The longest metal pipe is thirty-five feet long, and 20 inches diameter, the foot of which weighs two hundred and twenty-four pounds. The principal pipe has a cubical area of two hundred and seventeen feet. The timber required in the erection of the instrument was about twenty-five tons, and the metal about fifteen tons, making the total weight of the instru ment about forty tons. The external design is by Mr. Mackenzie, which harmonizes with the style of the building."

THE LAST MEETING.

In such an eve as this-at such a time-
The sun in beauty on the hill had stopped
To take his parting look, then to aclime

Far distant bent his way; upon the top
Of heaven's high arch the silver moon arose,
To bless the hours of slumber and repose.

In such an eve as this, I say, we met

Beside a purling rill, which bubbled by
Clear in the moon-light's beam, as if 'twas set

In rubies and in pearls; the deep-drawn sigh
Oft heaved our breasts, the thought itself was pain
That we perchance might never meet again.

Our love was not of common mould-from youth

Our hearts were knit in bands so strong, that place
Or time could never break. I knew the truth,
Although I spoke it not, that on her face
Were the cold traces of a slow decay,
Which told that she from earth must pass away.

Her eye of jet looked brighter than before-
A tear of sorrow roll'd upon her cheek
Like dew upon the lily leaf; and o'er

Her ashy lips the smiles that used to check
My woe, played on them now, to make more dear
Her fading form, and parting more severe.

We parted-yet we thought it not the last

Time we should e'er behold the eyes of those
Each other loved. Her broken spirit passed
To God, and death has ended all her woes.
I parted her in sorrow-but in love

I bowed to Him who reigns in heaven above.
S. J.
Ballymena.

THE PROCTOR'S DAUGHTER.

"Hurroo! at id agin. Success, Briney. Ha! take that, you ould dust. Will you bewitch our cattle now, Nanny? Whoo.-ha, ha, ha!—at id agin, boys-that's your sort."

haired child, tripped forward from an opposite stile; and perceiving what was going on, ran quickly to the old woman, and laying down a pitcher that she bore, stoed before her, facing the crowd of boys, her mild, soft blue eye flashing displeasure, and her cheeks flushed with a deep pink suffusion.

Such were a few of the explosives of mingled fun and devilment that proceeded from a group of ragged urchins, who were busily employed in pelting with hard mud, sods, and other missiles, an old and decrepit woman, whose gray hair and infirmities ought to have been her protection; but whose reputation as an evil disposed witch proved quite the contrary. Nanny, for such was her name, was leaning, or rather sitting, against a bank at the road side, shaking occasionally her crutch at her tormentors, and muttering a heavy curse as missile after missile fell thickly around her. The shouts of laughter proceeding from the annoying children, as she tried in vain to rise, and impotently threatened, made her impre. cations come doubly bitter; but her eye was never wet, nor did she once even by a look appeal to their pity. Her figure was bent with age, and her shaking hands brown and fleshless-her hair was grey and wiry, and escaped from beneath her cap, in short, thin, tangled masses-her eyes were dark and deep set, and her lips and mouth had fallen in as her teeth had gradually decayed. She was clad in a russet gown, much the worse for the wear, and a scarlet cloak, or rather a cloak that had once been scarlet, but was now completely faded from its original colour. It had been broken here and there, but was pieced with different coloured cloths, so as to appear a motley and strange garment; and her bony feet were bare and unprotected. Nanny, from different circumstances, was unanimously elected the witch or bugbear of the village; and though the brats were then so busy annoying her, at night, or in a lonesome place, they would fly like lightning even at her approach; and some of them actually trembled while shouting, though they did not like to exhibit their fear to their companions. In the first place, she lived completely alone in a hovel on the mountain side, where, save heath, rock, and fern, there was not a single thing on which the eye could rest; then, no one knew from whence she came, and lights were frequently seen shining through her unglazed window at hours when spirits were supposed to be abroad; besides, more than once a group of dark figures had been observed standing at twilight near her door, and were always set down as ministering demons, awaiting the pleasure of their mistress. Whenever a cow ceased giving milk-whenever a lamb or pig got any disease and died-it was unanimously attributed to the spite and venom of "Nanny the witch;" in fact, no human being could be viewed with more mingled feelings of fear and hate than she was by all the inhabitants of the village. The boys still continued their unfeeling attack; and she now was silent and gloomy, and did not menace, nor even mutter a curse, but her firmness had not left her, for her brow was darkly bent, and her small black eyes emitted a flash of wild though concentrated anger and revenge. Nor did those who passed from time to time, by word or gesture discourage the young urchins from their attack, sometimes they even stood looking complacently on, wondering at the reckless courage of the boys, as they would not for worlds dare to rise a hand against one so very powerful. Suddenly a louder whoop than any they had yet given, told that they had just invented some new mode of annoyance, and a short, hard-featured, red-headed boy, whom they called Briney, ran whooping and hallooing towards them, bear-ov yer father's bittherest foe!" ing a large hairy cap, which he triumphantly declared was full of rotten eggs-those delicious affairs which smash so delightfully off an unprotected face, and which used to be in great demand when pillories were in fashion.

"Shame! oh, for shame!" were the first exclamations that escaped her, and her sweet voice trembled with anger. "Bedad, it's purty Minny herself, sure enough!" muttered one urchin to another, as they hesitated what to do, each evidently unwilling to encounter the reproaches they were sure of receiving; and one or two scampered off the instant she spoke.

Then turning round to the old woman, and perceiving that her lips looked dry and parched, she ran to the pitcher, and lifting it to her mouth with much softness and compassion, exclaimed,

"Poor Nanny, you look dhry, an' here's some wather. Take a little sup, an' it 'ill revive you! Oh, if I wor here a little bit sooner!"

Nanny raised her eyes to thank her, and did as she re quested; and it was indeed a touching thing to see that child in all the budding beauty of infancy, attending so anxiously on the withered female, whose name was sel dom pronounced without dread or malediction. The urchins looked on for some time with open mouths and staring eyes; and then, headed by Briney, giving a farewell shout, to show they were not entirely disconcerted, bravely took to their heels.

"May the blessins ov the poor an' the persecuted folly on yer path, my purty child!" gratefully exclaimed the old woman, as her eyes rested on the cherub face and infantine figure of her protectress, and they now were dewy and wet with tears.

"Shall I help you to rise, Nanny?" asked she, her lit tle heart dancing with pleasure at hearing the fervent wish: “iv you like to go home, an' you think me sthrong enough, I'll help you on!"

"I must have first shot!" roared Briney, as he placed his burden down in the midst, and seized one of the eggs it contained.

"Sorra a bit, Briney!" screamed another, striding before him-"I've a betther aim nor you."

"You a betther aim !" scornfully retorted he; "thry id:" and his hand was upraised in the act of pelting, but was as suddenly stopped and withheld, as a pretty tiny fair

"From my heart I thank you, my purty goolden haired child," said the old woman, as with her assistance she at length stood up; "bud you seem to know who I am, and I wondher yer not afeard ov me. Minny, I think they called you-who is the happy father ov my little darlin'?

"I'm Minny Whelan," gently answered the little girl; upon which Nanny shrunk hastily back, and a fearful change overspread her features.

"Minny Whelan !-you the procthor's daughther? Those smiling lips-those tindher, soft eyes-that rich yallow hair-an' that warm an' feelin' heart, Minny Whelan's? Oh, it can't, it mustn't be I won't believe id!"

The little girl laughed, although wonder lurked in her eye, and repeated innocently,

Sure enough, I am the procthor's daughther: bud you don't hate me for id-do you?"

"Come close to me, child, till I look upon you," said Nanny, in a cold and altered tone of voice; and then, as Minny fearlessly advanced, she laid her aged hands on her head, and pushing back the profusion of her curling hair, looked long and anxiously on her. A hot tear fell upon the child's forehead as she withdrew her hand; and in a broken voice the old woman exclaimed, "You are-you are indeed his child: bud have naither his black look, nor his hard an' baneful heart-soso-I cannot hate you! For years I've never met wid kindness, till you war kind. Minny, heaven 'ill reward you for id; an' may its blessin' be wid you, is the prayer

At this the child hesitated for an instant, as if she did not comprehend the latter part of Nanny's sentence; and then innocently taking her hand, she looked up to her face, and said

"Bud maybe yer too tired to go home now all the ways, Nanny, so iv you'll come home wid me, I'm sure my father won't be angry, an' will”—

"Go home wid you!" wildly reiterated the old woman, her eyes blazing so fearfully, that the child shrunk instinctively back-" crass your father's flure!-inther the man's house who sint my son -my only son!-my heart's blood!-from his native land, wid disgrace upon his name,

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and the heavy hand ov power crushin' him to the earth! | ears off the baste, an' (hiccup) lave him hard ov hearin' Never!-those eyes, that once could laugh wid happiness, for the rest ov his life!" will burn in their sockets first, and this withered heart, once so warm and joyful, will burst, afore I ever think ov id!"

Nanny," tremblingly said Minny, "you spake so wild you inake me afeard-I hope I haven't done any thing to vex you!"

"You! Oh! no, no-you force me to love you! I couldn't hate you, although yer father-bud no matther. Minny, good bye-may the Almighty guard you."

The day passed away as summer days are wont, in softness and languor, and the sun descended in gold and crimson, leaving a bright halo in the west to mark his resting place. Night came on serene and still, and the quiet moon ascended her heavenly throne, while the refreshing dews fell upon the flowers, whose leaves opened to receive them, parched as they were with the burning lustre of the mid-day sun. Midnight had already passed; and all was as silent as if no living or created thing existed upon the earth to mar its splendid beauty with the wild indulgence of its fiercer passions. A strong light was gleam登 ing from the interior of Nanny's cabin, which we have already said was situated on the mountain side; and the noisy sounds of revelry were heard proceeding from within. Could any of the superstitious have summoned courage to approach sufficiently near, and listened for a moment, the idea of spirits would soon be dissipated in the bluff, hoarse voices which were laughing, and grumbling, and singing, sometimes alternately, and sometimes all together. But we had better introduce the reader to the interior, and then he will be a better judge of the nature of the orgies carried on.

The cabin consisted of but one small apartment, in the centre of which blazed a huge fire (summer though it was) of dried peat. The smoke sought egress where it might, but still left a sufficient canopy over the heads of the occupants, as completely to hide the dingy and charred rafters, and did not seem in the slightest degree to annoy the optical powers of any one, so accustomed were they to this kind of atmosphere. Round this fire about ten were seated or squatted down, and were all at the time busily employed in some noisy and apparently angry disputation. However, this did not prevent the bottle from being freely passed amongst them; and so cordial were they in embracing it, that Nanny, who sat a little apart, was often called on to replenish it with mountain-dew. On a table or dresser that stood by the wall, were three or four large pistols, besides an old sword or two, and a few rusted bayonets: piled against it were two large muskets, evidently kept with more care than the rest of the arms, for they were brightly polished, and looked even new. A couple of powder-horns, a tin box containing shot and bullets, and a large iron mallet, used in breaking open doors, completed the array, which could leave no doubt as to the men who occupied the cabin.

"Come, Nanny acushla, give us another dhrop of that you gev us last," exclaimed one, whose rolling eyes gave token of approaching intoxication; "you're not used to be sparin', an' considherin' the way you get id, needn't be so-eh? Dick, what do you say to another drink ?"

"Game to the last," answered the man addressed "never refuse id."

"Why, Nanny," observed a low but muscularly formed man, who seemed from his manner to exercise some slight command amongst his associates, "what's the matther wid you to-night? Sure we're goin' to do what you've long been axin' us, an' what you first gev us lave to meet here for-an' by doin' so we've got the fame of bein' not quite right. The villian of a procthor that sint poor Bob off afore he could look about him, 'ill resave his pay to-night, anyhow. What say you, boys ?"

"No doubt ov it!-All right!-Whoo! sartinly!" they grumbled and shouted in reply; and then, the whiskey having been brought, the health of Nanny's absent son, and their companion, was loudly proposed and drank. "I say, Dick," hiccupped the first speaker, who now began to wax drunk, what in your op-op-opinion should we do to ould Whelan? You know, I'm (hiccup) not natherally crule, bud suppose (hiccup) we jist cut the

"I'm not the man to disagree wid a rasonable idaya,” laconically answered Dick.

"What do you say to that, my ould (hiccup) woman ?" again asked he, addressing Nanny, who had drawn near to listen; "suppose we sarve him that-a-way, will you be (hiccup) satisfied; or maybe you'd sooner we'd prevint his bein' annoyed wid a cough by (hiccup) cuttin' his informin' throat!"

While he spoke, an indescribable expression lighted up the old woman's eye, and she stood a moment, as if a struggle were going on between long-brooded-over revenge and some newly awakened sympathy. The rest of the men were busy with other schemes, and did not even hear the last conversation, for they had before agreed to pay Whelan a visit that night, and Nanny had eagerly entered into their intentions; for she had an only son, who, being wild and dissipated, had got connected with the very gang at present in her cabin, and through Whe lan's means (he having informed against him) was transported. An Irish mother soon looks upon the faults of a darling child with levity; and when he was torn from her arms, in the madness of grief she had vowed vengeance against Whelan; and though he soon after removed to where he then was, she followed him, and took up her residence on the mountain, where, as she was a stranger, and had no apparent means of living, a report of her communion with evil spirits was soon spread abroad. This she rather encouraged than otherwise, by the advice of the men whom she fixed on as the completers of her revenge, and by such means the lights and nightly noises were placed to the account of any thing but their real cause.

She had endured many griefs, and many mortifications, from her reputation as a witch, but met every thing in that way with patience, as the dream of her soul was revenge, and that dream by such means alone could be realized. However, when on the very point of its completion, one of those sudden and mysterious changes which often takes place in the human mind made her waver in her purpose; and the child of her intended victim having behaved so tenderly and so kindly when all the rest hooted at and tormented her, made her fervently wish that she could turn the fierce men around her from that fell purpose which she herself had nourished, till it grew into a fixed, and she dreaded an unalterable determination.

"Hadn't yez betther wait," she tremblingly began, scarcely knowing what she was about to propose- -“ another night 'ill do as well for Whelan."

"How's this," interrupted one of them, "Nanny, you growing lukewarm !-you proposin' another night-are you beginnin' to be afeard we'll be hindhered from payin' him off, or are you repentin' yer former anxious desire ?"

"No-no!" hastily answered she, dreading lest they should discover her feelings, as she well knew that many amongst them had revenge to be gratified as well as herself; "I don't repint as regards him, bud-bud—his daughther-poor little Minny-the purty goolden-haired child! -I wouldn't like any thing 'ud harm her, an' I'm afeard ov her bein' hurted-that's all."

"He did not feel so six years ago," said a deep voice at her elbow, "whin yer only son was sint off from home an' counthry through his manes!"

Nanny started, she knew not why, at the tones of the speaker, and turned round to look closer at him; but his back was towards her, and a large loose coat prevented all recognition of his person; besides, bringing an occasional newly enrolled stranger there, was a common circumstance, so she soon forgot the momentary surprise she had met in her anxiety about their intention.

"He is a brute-his heart is harder nor steel, an' he must be punished," said another, whose bent brow and flashing black eye spoke of malignity and crime.

"Bud his child-his poor little Minny!" exclaimed Nanny, "sure you won't injure her-she hasn't desarved id at yer hands-she has done nothin', bud is a sweet an' kind-hearted crathur. Oh! iv you had seen her whin I was in the village, an' the boys were hootin' an' peltin' me, an' no one intherfered to protect the hated Nanny-iv you had seen the little angel how she stood before me,

unmindful of all, and seeing only her father, threw her-
self on her knees beside him, exclaiming in tones of agony,
"Oh, my father-my dear father-what is the matther?

an' cried out 'shame!' an' held up the pitcher for me to
dhrink, an' helped me to rise, offerin' me the shelter of
her father's house, little dhramin' ov whom she was spak-
in' to-you wouldn't have a thought ov hurtin' her-bud-what are they goin' to do wi' you?"
-no one-no one could harm Minny!--she is too sweet,
too pure, too like a little angel!"

"A hair of the child's head shall not be touched !" said the same deep voice that had before made Nanny start; "bud he, the informher an' the prosecuthor, must feel our vengeance!"

The stranger started at the tones of her voice, and on gazing at her for a moment, flung the card to a distance, and catching her in his arms, kissed away the tears which covered her cheeks, as she struggled for release.

"Is id you," he said with much emotion, "that I p:omised to purtect?-You, who succoured an' saved me Nanny was silent-she saw that further parley was use-whin I was dyin' for want? An' are you the daughther less, and was obliged to bear with the concession she had ov Whelan the procthor?" already obtained. Meanwhile, the men having ascer The men, perplexed at the apparition of the child, metained that it was time they were stirring, hastily equip-chanically had released their prisoner; and he, starting ped themselves, and prepared to start. When they were up with the sudden hope of freedom, stood confronting leaving the house, the stranger, whose voice had so start- the stranger, who yet held his child. led her, took her hand, and though his face was studiously averted, she heard him say solemnly"Nanny, good bye!-my promise I'll keep sacred-the good child shall not be touched!"

She had not time to utter her thanks, for his hand as hastily relinquished its hold, and ere she could speak, all were gone, and she heard the buzz of their voices, as in a group they descended the mountain.

The bright moonbeams silvered the motionless leaves of the trees that surrounded Whelan's cottage-there was not a stir within-no light gleamed from the lattice, and the small thin brook that bubbled through the long grass a little in its front, seemed to hush its merry song to a mere low trickling sound, as if in unison with the universal repose. A dark group of figures stood in the little garden before the door, as if debating how they should act. Two of them, separated a little from the rest, conferred together, one of whom was the stranger we have already noticed, and the other the man we have spoken of as seeming to possess some command over them all. Suddenly the latter started, and exclaimed in the quick, sharp tone of command

"Advance, men, an smash the door-there's no use in delayin' longer.'

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An almost instantaneous crash was the answer, and the door flew from its hinges, and four or five of the men rushed into the cottage, while the rest kept watch outside. Exclamations of surprise, mingled with harsh epithets, were heard within; and then they appeared a second time, dragging with them the unfortunate and trembling owner, whom they had just torn from his bed. A loud shout from the rest spoke their eagerness for his punishment; and amidst prayers for mercy, and entreaties, he was dragged to the centre of the garden, placed on his knees, and his hands firmly tied behind his back.

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The poor man trembled violently, and his livid lips opened, but he could not utter a word.

"What an obstinate, silent ould baste you are," said the same man, "not to give a civil answer to my question. Bud maybe the look o' this plaything id drive spake out ov you-oh, you may stare now!" Saying this, he drew forth a board with a thick handle, the bottom part of which was closely studded with nails and sharp pieces of iron, in imitation of the cards they use for wool, and continued-" Would you admire the taste of this in the flesh on your back, my informin' codger !—eh ?'

Upon this, shouts of "Card him! card him!" arose from the group, and his hands were quickly unloosed, and he was violently dashed on his face, while some held his legs and others his arms. Then his back was stripped, and the stranger laid the board flatly on it, with the iron points touching the flesh, while another stood up with the large mallet ready to drive them in, the shrieks of their victim becoming more and more faint. Just as the man who held the weapon last named was about to strike, and just as a demon grin of satisfied vengeance distorted the otherwise handsome features of the stranger, a light and tiny form flew screaming towards them, her long yellow hair floating in the night breeze, and her white dress hanging loosely about her delicate limbs. It was Minny, who,

"Gracious Providence !" he exclaimed in wonder, as the moonlight streamed on the face he was trying to recognise-" Is id-can id be Robert Dillon ?"

Yis, Whelan!" was the answer, "it is the man you name-the man you caused to be thried an' banished, an' the man who came here to have revinge!"

"Oh, don't hurt him--don't hurt him-he is my father!" cried the little Minny, who now also seemed to recognise him.

"Iv he was surrounded wid frinds," answered Dillon, kissing her fair, smooth brow, "iv he was for ever on the watch, I'd still have my revenge: bud for your sake, sweet good-natured child--for your sake, I'll not allow him to be touched !"

A murmur here began to arise among some of the men, while their leader, with one or two others, seemed determined to take part with the returned son of Nanny Dillon. Upon this he added—

"I was weary an' wake wid fatague an' hunger—I couldn't move a step farther than jist to lave the road an' lie in a dhry ditch, as I thought, to die, jist as I complated the journey to my native place! But this little girlthis goolden-haired child-kem to me, an' raised my head, an' poured a sweet draught of milk into my mouth, an' brought me food, an' sat by me, an' talked wid me, til! I was at last able to join wid you! An' afther thisafther this, would you have me harm any one belongin' to her-even though he is my bitterest inimy ?"

The quick changings of purpose-the sudden transitions of the Irish nature-are proverbial; and then those who had been loudest in their murmurs were loudest in their cries of approval; and a deep huzza of exultation at the magnanimity he displayed, told Dillon that he had little to fear from their opposition. So once more embracing the little girl, he gave her hand to her father, and taking the leader's arm, strode away, exclaiming,

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Whelan, you may thank your child-for 'tis she has saved you!"

The party all followed after him; and in a few moments more there was no trace of the scene of violence that had been partly enacted, and the brook's low bubblings, as before, alone disturbed the silence of the slumbering night.

We will not attempt to describe poor Nanny's joy at her son's making himself known, and informing her of the circumstances that had taken place enough to say, he had managed to escape before his time was out; but as no one informed against him, he was suffered to remain in peace, and manage a small farm in the next county, where he and his mother soon after retired, as he determined totally to forsake his old mischievous pranks.

We were present at the village altar, when Minny, who had grown up in beauty and gentleness, gave her hand to a youth-the selected one of her heart-and her greyheaded parent looked meekly on, blessing that Providence who had given him such a child.

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