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The author says : “ The follow- as a work of their early ancestors ing ballad was suggested to me This is an admirable exercise in while riding on the sea-shore at Monotone, see p. 67. Newport. A year or two previous a * Skåld, an ancient Scandinavian skeleton had been dug up at Fallbard or poet; a reciter and singer of River, clad in broken and corroded heroic poems, eulogies, etc., among armor; and the idea occurred to me the Norsemen. of connecting it with the Round * Sā' ga, a Scandinavian legend Tower at Newport, generally known or story handed down among the hitherto as the Old Wind Mill, Norsemen and kindred people. thongh now claimed by the Danes • Ger-falcon, (jer få kn).

7.

So the loud laugh of scorn, “Many a wussail-bout'

Out of those lips unshörn, Wöre the long Winter out;

From the deep drinking-horn
Often our midnight shout

Blew the foam lightly.
Set the cocks crowing,

12.
As we the Berserk's tale
Měasured in cups of ale,

" She was a Prince's child,

I but a Viking wild, Draining the oaken pail,

And though sheblushed and smiled Filled to o’erflowing.

I was discarded ! 8.

Should not the dove so white “Once as I told in glee

Follow the sea-mew's flight, Tales of the stormy sea,

Why did they leave that night Soft eyes did gaze on me,

Her nest unguarded ?
Burning yět tender;
And as the white stars shine

13. On the dark Norway pine,

“Scarce had I put to sea, On that dark heart of mine

Bearing the maid with me,-
Fell their soft splendor.

Fairest of all was she
9.

Among the Norsemen !

When on the white sea-strand, “I wooed the blue-eyed maid,

Waving his armed hand,
Yielding, yět half afraid,

Saw we old Hildebrand,
And in the forest's shade
Our vows were plighted.

With twenty horsemen.
Under its loosened vest

14. Fluttered her little breast,

“Then launched they to the blast, Like birds within their nest

Bent like a reed each mast,
By the hawk frighted.

Yět we were gaining fast,
10.

When the wind failed us;

And with a sudden flaw “Bright in her father's hall Shields gleamed upon the wall,

Came round the gusty Skaw,
Loud the minstrels all,

So that our foe we saw
sang
Chaunting his glory;

Laugh as he hailed us.
When of old Hildebrand

15. I asked his daughter's hand, " And as to catch the gale Mute did the minstrels stand

Round veered 'the flapping sail, To hear my story.

Death! was the helmsman's hail 11.

Death without quarter!
While the brown ale he quaffed, Mid-ships with iron keel
Loud then the champion laughed, Struck we her ribs of steel ;
And as the wind-gusts waft

Down her black hulk did reel
The sea-foam brightly,

Through the black water!

1 Wassail-bout, (wös' sil-bout), a drinking-bout ; a contest or set-to at wassail, a kind of liquor used on festive occasions.

16.
“ As with his wings aslant,
Sails the fierce cormorant,
Seeking some rocky haunt,

With his prey laden,
So toward the open main,
Beating to sea again,
Through the wild hurricane,
Bore I the maiden.

17. “ Three weeks we westward bore, And when the storm was o'er, Cloud-like we saw the shore

Stretching to lee-ward ;
There for my lady's bower
Built I the lofty tower,
Which, to this věry hour,
Stands looking sea-ward.

18.
“There lived we many years ;
Time dried the maiden's tears;
She had forgot her fears,

She was a mother;

Death closed her mild blue eyes,
Under that tower she lies;
Ne'er shall the sun arise

On such another!

19.

“Still grew my bosom then,
Still as a stagnant fen!
Hateful to me were men,

The sun-light hateful!
In the vast forest here,
Clad in my warlike gear,
Fell I upon my spear,
0, death was grateful!

20. “ Thus, seamed with many scars Bursting these prison bars, Up to its native stars

My soul ascended! There from the flowing bowl Deep drinks the warrior's soul, Skõal! to the Nortliland ! skoal!!-Thus the tale ended.

H. W. LONGFELLOW.

SECTION XXVI.

I.
140. SCENES FROM PICKWICK.

THE DILEMMA.

R. Pickwick's apartments in Goswell street, although on

a limited scale, were not only of a věry neat and comfortable description, but peculiarly adapted for the residence of a man of his genius and observation. His sĩtting-room was the first floor front, his bed-room was the second foor front; and thus, whether he was sitting at his desk in the parlor, or standing before the dressing-glass in his dormitory, he had an equal

1

Skõal, in Scandanavia this is the the word is slightly changed, in customary salutation when drink- order to preserve the correct pro ing a health. The orthography of nunciation.

opportunity of contemplating human nature in all the numerous phases it exhibits, in that not more populous than popular thoroughfare.

2. His landlady, Mrs. Bardell—the relict and sole executrix of a deceased custom-house officer-was a comely (kúm'ly) woman of bustling manners and agreeable appearance, with a natural genius for cooking, improved by study and long practice into an ěx'quisīte talent. There were no children, no servants, no fowls. The only other inmates of the house were a large man and a small boy; the first a lodger, the second a production of Mrs. Bardell's. The large man was always at home precisely at ten o'clock at night, at which hour he regularly condensed himself into the limits of a dwarfish French bedstead in the back parlor ; and the infantine sports and gymnastic exercises of Master Bardell were exclusively confined to the neighboring pavements and gutters. Cleanliness and quiet reigned throughout the house; and in it Mr. Pickwick's will was law.

3. To any one acquainted with these points of the domestic economy of the establishment, and con'versant with the admirable regulation of Mr. Pickwick's mind, his appearance and behavior, on the morning previous to that which had been fixed upon for the journey to Eatansvill, would have been most mysterious and unaccountable. He paced the room to and fro with hurried steps, popped his head out of the window at intervals of about three minutes each, constantly referred to his watch, and exhibited many other manifestations of impatience, věry unusual with him. It was evident that something of great importance was in contemplation ; but what that something was, not even Mrs. Bardell herself had been enabled to discover.

4. “Mrs. Bardell,” said Mr. Pickwick, at last, as that amiable female approached the termination of a prolonged dusting of the apartment. “Sir," said Mrs. Bardell. “Your little boy is a very long time gone.” “Why, it's a good long way to the Borough, sir," remonstrated Mrs. Bardell.“ Ah," said Mr. Pickwick, "věry true; so it is." Mr. Pickwick relapsed into silence, and Mrs. Bardell resumed her dusting.

5. Mrs. Bardell," said Mr. Pickwick, at the expiration of a few minutes. “Sir," said Mrs. Bardell again.

“Do you

think it's a much greater expense to keep two people, than to keep

M

son, sir.”

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one ?” “La, Mr. Pickwick,” said Mrs. Bardell, coloring up to the very border of her cap, as she fancied she observed a species of matrimonial twinkle in the eyes of her lodger ; "La, Mr. Pickwick, what a question !” “Well, but do you?” inquired Mr. Pickwick. “That depends,” said Mrs. Bardell, approaching the duster very near to Mr. Pickwick’s elbow, which was planted on the table; “ that depends a good deal upon the person, you know, Mr. Pickwick ; and whether it's a saving and careful per:

“ That's very true,” said Mr. Pickwick ; “but the person I have in my eye (here he looked very hard at Mrs. Bardell) I think possesses these qualities ; and has, moreover, a considerable knowledge of the world, and a great deal of sharpness, Mrs. Bardell; which may be of material use to me.”

6. “La, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell ; the crimson rising to her cap-border again. “I do," said Mr. Pickwick, growing energetic, as was his wont (wŭnt) in speaking of a subject which interested him. “I do, indeed ; and to tell you

the truth, Mrs. Bardell, I have made up my mind.” “Dear me, sir," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell. “You'll think it not very strange now," said the amiable Mr. Pickwick, with a good-humored glance at his companion, “that I never consulted you about this matter, and never mentioned it, till I sent your little boy out this morning-eh ?"

7. Mrs. Bardell could only reply by a look. She had lõng worshipped Mr. Pickwick at a distance, but here she was, all at once, raised to a pinnacle to which her wildèst and most extravagant hopes had never dared to aspire. Mr. Pickwick was going to propose—a deliberate plan, too-sent her little boy to the Börough, to get him out of the way—how thoughtful—how considerate !—“Well,” said Mr. Pickwick, "what do you think?" "Oh, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell, trembling with agitation, “you're věry kind, sir.” “It will save you a great deal of trouble, won't it?" said Mr. Pickwick. “Oh, I never thought anything of the trouble, sir," replied Mrs. Bardell ; "and of course, I should take more trouble to please you

then than ever ; but it is so kind of you, Mr. Pickwick, to have so much consideration for

my

loneliness.” 8. “Ah to be sure,” said Mr. Pickwick ; “I never thought of that. When I am in town, you'll always have somebody to sit with

you. To be sure, so you will.” “I'm sure I ought to be a very happy woman,” said Mrs. Bardell. “And your little boy—"

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