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chequed covers from the cumbrous oaken chairs, when the party entered the study. Lucky was it for the vicar's repose, that the notice had been so short, or the tidy housewife would, without doubt, have scoured some of the antique ornaments, and destroyed a crop of sacred verdure, which ages could not have replenished. As matters stood, nothing was left for poor Annette, but to defend her character at the expence of her master, who she declared treated her as he would an old witch, whenever she appeared with a broom.

"Why, papa," exclaimed Tom, as he cast his eyes around the study, "all these curiosities have been put up since I went to school."

"The boy is right," said the vicar; " I have only just completed their arrangment, and I believe," continued he, addressing himself to Mr. Seymour, "that there are several rich morsels of antiquity which you have not yet seen."

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Pray," cried Mr. Seymour, "allow me to enquire whether there is not some curious tradition connected with that rusty sword which

hangs in such grim repose over your

mantel

told me it was the identical weapon with which Balaam killed his ass ?"

"With which Balaam killed his ass !!" exclaimed the horrified vicar; "let me tell you, sir, that Balaam never did kill his ass; although I confess that he wished for a sword for that purpose; since he exclaimed, in a moment of wrath, I would there were a sword in my hand, for now would I kill thee.' ”*

"I stand corrected," said Mr. Seymour: "that sword then is, doubtless, the one for which he so anxiously wished."

"You are really incorrigible," cried Mr. Twaddleton; "but I must beg that, for the present at least, you will repress your raillery; for I now propose to introduce my young friends to the wonders of my magic gallery; wherein they may converse with the spirits of departed emperors, heroes, patriots, sages, and beauties; contemplate, at their leisure, the countenances of the Alexanders, Cæsars, Pompeys, and Trajans; — behold a legion of allegorical and airy beings, who have here, for the first time, assumed appropriate and substantial forms; examine the models * Numbers, xxii, 29.

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of ancient temples and triumphal arches, which, although coeval with the edifices they represent, are as perfect as at the first moment of their construction, while the originals have

long since crumbled into dust. They shall also see volumes of history, condensed into a space of a few inches, and read the substance of a hundred pages at a single glance."

"How extraordinary!" said Tom: "why we never read any thing more wonderful in our Fairy Tales."

"And what renders it more wonderful," replied the vicar, "is its being all true."

So saying, the antiquary took a key of pigmy dimensions from the pocket of his waistcoat, and proceeded to a cumbrous ebony cabinet which stood in a deep recess, and displayed an antique structure, and curiously carved allegorical devices, in strict unison with that air of mystery with which the vicar had thought proper to invest its contents. It was supported by gigantic eagles' claws; its key-hole was surrounded by hissing snakes; while the head of Cerberus, which constituted the handle, ap

children were upon the tiptoe of expectation and impatience the lock yielded, and the doors flew open. Disappointment and chagrin were visibly depicted on the countenances of the brother and sisters.

"And so," exclaimed Tom, "this fine magic gallery turns out to be nothing more than a box full of rusty halfpence !"

"I am sure," said Louisa," it was quite unnecessary to have engaged Cerberus as a sentinel over such rubbish.”

"Hush!" cried the vicar; " you talk like one not initiated in the mysteries of enchantment: have you not read, that under its spells the meanest objects have assumed forms of splendor and magnificence? In like manner, then, may treasures of the greatest value appear to ordinary eyes as mean and worthless.

"This cabinet," continued Mr. Twaddleton, “is under the influence of a potent magician: by the touch of her wand, it would become irradiated as with celestial light, and these rusty coins would be transformed into all those various objects of interest and delight which I had promised to show you."

Tom and Louisa looked at the coins, then at the vicar, and afterwards at Mr. Seymour, to whom they cast an enquiring glance.

"Then pray," exclaimed Tom, "wave this mighty wand of your enchantress, and fulfil your promise."

"The enchantress," replied the vicar, "is not disposed to grant her favours to those by whom she has not been propitiated."

"And what ceremony does she exact?" enquired Louisa.

"The perusal of sundry mystic volumes; and the consumption of a midnight lamp at her altar,” replied the vicar.

"Do you not comprehend the allegory?" said Mr. Seymour: "you are really, Louisa, as dull as you were at the well, when I described the tea-party of Miss Ryland. The enchanted gallery is no other than a collection of antique medals; the potent enchantress, ERUDITION, or that classical learning, without which they appear of less value than so many rusty halfpence."

"You are right," cried Mr. Twaddleton:

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