Who was that who said Walter?' he asked, looking round. 'Some one said Walter. Is he here? I should like to see him very much.'

6

Nobody replied directly; but his father soon said to Susan, Call him back then; let him come up!' After a short pause of expectation, during which he looked with smiling interest and wonder on his nurse, and saw that she had not forgotten Floy, Walter was brought into the room. His open face and manner, and his cheerful eyes, had always made him a favourite with Paul; and, when Paul saw him, he stretched out his hand, and said, Good-bye!' Good-bye, my child!' cried Mrs. Pipchin, hurrying to his bed's head. Not good-bye?' For an instant, Paul looked at her with the wistful face with which he had so often gazed upon her in his corner by the fire. Ah, yes!' he said placidly, good-bye! Walter, dear, good-bye!'turning his head to where he stood, and putting out his hand again. Where is papa?'

6

6

He felt his father's breath upon his cheek, before the words had parted from his lips.

'Remember Walter, dear papa,' he whispered, looking in his face "remember Walter I was fond of Walter!' The feeble hand waved in the air, as if it cried good-bye' to Walter once again. Now lay me down,' he said; and, Floy, come close to me, and let me see you!'

6

Sister and brother wound their arms round each other, and the golden light came streaming in, and fell upon them locked together.

sea;

How fast the river runs between its green banks and the rushes, Floy! But it's very near the I hear the waves! They always said so!' Presently he told her that the motion of the boat upon the stream was lulling him to rest. How green the banks were now !--how bright the flowers grow

ing on them!--and how tall the rushes! Now the boat was out at sea, but gliding smoothly on; and now there was a shore before him who stood on the bank!

He put his hands together, as he had been used to do at his prayers. He did not remove his arms to do it; but they saw him fold them so behind her neck.

'Mamma is like you, Floy. I know her by the face!—but tell them that the print upon the stairs at school is not divine enough. The light about the head is shining on me as I go!'

The golden purple on the wall came back again, and nothing else stirred in the room. The old, old fashion!-the fashion that came in with our first garments, and will last unchanged till our race has run its course, and the wide firmament is rolled up like a scroll. The old, old fashion-DEATH.

Oh! thank God, all who see it, for that older fashion yet, of IMMORTALITY! And look upon us, angels of young children, with regards not quite estranged, when the swift river bears us to the Ocean!-CHARLES DICKENS Little Dombey.'

THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF

JOHN GILPIN.

(Showing how he went farther than he intended, and came safe home again.)

John Gilpin was a citizen

Of credit and renown;

A trainband captain eke was he
Of famous London town.

John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,
"Though wedded we have been
These twice ten tedious years, yet we
No holiday have seen.

To-morrow is our wedding day,
And we will then repair
Unto the "Bell" at Edmonton,
All in a chaise and pair.
'My sister, and my sister's child,
Myself, and children three,

Will fill the chaise; so you must ride
On horseback after we.'

He soon replied, ‘I do admire

Of womankind but one;
And you are she, my dearest dear,
Therefore it shall be done.

"I am a linen-draper bold,

As all the world doth know,
And my good friend, the calender,
Will lend his horse to go.'

Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, That's well said;
And for that wine is dear,
We will be furnish'd with our own,
Which is both bright and clear.'

John Gilpin kiss'd his loving wife;
O'erjoy'd was he to find,

That though on pleasure she was bent,
She had a frugal mind.

The morning came; the chaise was brought,
But yet was not allow'd

To drive up to the door, lest all

Should say that she was proud.

So three doors off the chaise was stay'd,
Where they did all get in ;

Six precious souls, and all agog

To dash through thick and thin.

Smack went the whip; round went the wheels; Were never folks so glad;

The stones did rattle underneath,

As if Cheapside were mad.

John Gilpin at his horse's side
Seiz'd fast the flowing mane,

And up he got,

in haste to ride,

But soon came down again.

For saddle-tree scarce reach'd had he,
His journey to begin,

When, turning round his head, he saw
Three customers come in.

So down he came; for loss of time,
Although it griev'd him sore,
Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,
Would trouble him much more.

'Twas long before the customers

Were suited to their mind,

When Betty, screaming, came down stairs, The wine is left behind!'

"Good lack!' quoth he, yet bring it me, My leathern belt likewise,

In which I bear my trusty sword,
When I do exercise.'

Now Mistress Gilpin (careful soul!)
Had two stone bottles found,
To hold the liquor that she lov’d,
And keep it safe and sound.

Each bottle had a curling ear,
Through which the belt he drew,
And hung a bottle on each side,
To make his balance true.

Then over all, that he might be
Equipp'd from top to toe,

His long red cloak, well brush'd and neat,
He manfully did throw.

Now see him mounted once again

Upon his nimble steed,

Full slowly pacing o'er the stones
With caution and good heed.

But finding soon a smoother road
Beneath his well-shod feet,
The snorting beast began to trot,
Which gall'd him in his seat.

So Fair and softly,' John he cried;
But John he cried in vain;

The trot became a gallop soon,
In spite of curb and rein.