boys, rolls down to the scene of action, with a couple of bats of his own manufacture, carried Robinson Crusoe fashion, on each shoulder. The game commences amid the breathless excitement of the Little Barton side, who have been sedulously drilled for the last few weeks into the positions and duties to be occupied by them in the field, Longstop especially, having been cautioned about the "byes." Presently the Norton batsman lets drive at a delicious "off ball," but merely touches it with the edge of his bat, and sends it just over short slip's head, within a few yards of Longstop, past whom it rolls for three runs without any attempt on his part to stop it. "Muve Jem! why don't you muve?" is shouted at unlucky Longstop, from all parts of the field; but only brings forth the indignant protest," Talk of me moving; why it were a hit!" Enlivened with sundry similar little episodes, the game proceeds with all the glorious uncertainty of Cricket, and terminates at a late hour of the evening. Of course the losing side are disappointed, but still it has been a thoroughly good English day's pleasure, and both winners and losers part good friends. "A very harmonious game," said a country Umpire to a friend of mine, after one of these rustic encounters. "Yes" replied my friend, "very much so." "Harmonious, pleasant, good feeling on both sides," urged the Umpire. "Certainly," acquiesced my friend, "and I hope we shall soon meet again." Well," said the Umpire, "that's just it, I did'nt wish to disturb the harmony of the game, but you've been bowling a foot over the crease all day. I'm glad I didn't 'no-ball' you. It's been such a very harmonious game"! 66 J. F. B. CHIDHER. (From the German.) THUS spake the ever young Chidher : I passed town as I rode along, A man plucked fruit in a garden fair, And I asked, "how old is the town so strong?" "The town" said he, and he plucked again, "The town stands here, 'tis very plain, As ever it did, and will remain.' had died, When half a thousand years No town found I, but a lonely mead! And flocks were scattered far and near, A single shepherd tuned his reed, And I asked, "how long have they pastured here?" He said, and turned again to play, "The young leaves grow where the old decay; This is my pasture-land for aye." When half a thousand years had died, The self-same way I chanced to ride1 I found the seething ocean strand; I asked, "when came the waters here?" When half a thousand years had died, I found a forest greenly dressed; I asked "how old that wood might be?' When half a thousand years had died, I found a market town; and loud I asked them "whence that busy crowd? A GHOST STORY. (Continued from page 273.) SNORING soundly in bed, with his night cap well pulled over his ears, my uncle ought to have been found at one o'clock in the morning. But we found him in a very different state from this. He was lying on the floor apparently lifeless, and when we brought a light nearer to him, we saw that blood was flowing from a wound in his head. Tartar was lying stretched over his master's body, alive, but alas! Tartare" “Quantum mutatus ab illo whom we had seen a few hours before so full of animal life and courage. He was shivering and shaking all over, and at intervals he howled and whined in a most melancholy fashion. Nevertheless the faithful creature was keeping guard over his master's body, and at times licked the lifeless hand that could no longer answer the dumb creature's affection. As I said before, I shall never forget the scene as long as I live. The servants gently lifted the General on to his bed, and even then I could not help admiring the calm and resolute expression of his face, and had I not seen the dark stream of blood trickling slowly down from his iron grey locks, I could have fancied he was only enjoying the deep and placid sleep denied to the sons of luxury; and which none but soldiers and the sons of toil ever know; or, if I may quote the eloquent words of an Aquiline Bard, that sleep "Peculiar to oars, and overworked Omnibus 'osses.” It seemed hard that a man who had escaped the dangers of war, famine, and disease in foreign lands should be thus struck down by a cowardly assassin in an hour of seeming peace and security. But I rejoice to say that my uncle, though severely wounded, was not dead: in fact the surgeon (who had arrived within a quarter of an hour after the alarm) declared after a few days that the General, thanks to his iron constitution, would probably be as well as ever he had been in the course of a week. And here I must not omit to mention an instance of Agatha Snow's coolness of judgment and presence of mind. While the rest of the family were giving way to expressions of horror and grief, my uncle might have bled to death. My aunt was the first who recovered her senses, and she told one of the servants at once to fetch a doctor. But before the servant had gone, to our great relief, our own medical man made his appearance. We afterwards discovered that on the first alarm Agatha had of her own accord rushed off for him, and insisted on his coming with her immediately. But in accordance with her retiring and reserved character she never made mention of this fact to any of us, and it was not till after some days had passed that we knew to whom we were indebted for the doctor's opportune arrival, and even then Agatha seemed distressed by our expressions of gratitude, and positively refused to accept the handsome present which General Mackenzie wished to give her. Nevertheless she was unremitting in her attentions to him, and volunteered to sit up with him at night as nurse, a duty which none of the other servants and no professional nurse could be found to undertake. For, of course, the whole affair had been noised abroad, and a legal inquiry had taken place, which had however thrown no light on the mysterious event. As my uncle still lay in the ghost-room, it was not probable that we should find many nurses willing to sit up with him through the night, and as my aunt insisted on sitting up with her brother all night till he could be removed into another room, Agatha and I contented ourselves with being as useful as we could during the day. In a few days my uncle was removed to another room, and recovered sufficiently to be able to give us the following account of what had befallen him : "On the night of the 25th, when I wished you all 'good night,' I little thought what a night of it I should have. I did not trouble myself about your ghostly friend, and though I put my pistols within easy reach, I laughed at myself for doing so, and thought I had been a great fool when I took the trouble of loading them before dinner. I now |