THE TWO BROTHERS:

A BOY'S BALLAD.

PART I.-COURTESY.

TWO children, in a cottage bred,

Were sons of one dear, loving

mother;

Such opposites, you'd ne'er have

said,

That Robert had been Arthur's brother.

Robert was dark; his temper high;

His hair crisp'd into short, black curls; Arthur was fair, and mild, and shy,

With flaxen ringlets like a girl's.

But still their mother used to boast,
She could not tell of one or other,
Which loved his little comrade most,
Or which was fondest of his mother.

These brothers on a day in June,

When blue the sky, and fair the weather, Once started in the morning soon,

To ramble the whole day together.

And far beyond the narrow bound
Of wonted walk they rambled on,
And halved the length of travell'd ground
With interchange of talk and fun.

And on they went o'er dale and hill,
Past meadow green and golden plain,

On stepping-stones o'er running rill,

Through sun and shade of leafy lane.

On, on, as stranger scenes unroll'd,

With lengthening hours their pleasure grew;

On, like adventurers of old,

Pizarro-like, to regions new.

On, careless of the hours, they stroll;

But travellers hungry grow at last; So, resting on a grassy knoll,

They sat and took their noon-repast.

In front a massive gateway stood,

With herald-griffins carved thereon; A wood behind; and o'er the wood Rose two great towers of frowning stone.

They wonder'd what the towers might be ;
To whom such grandeur might belong;
When, at his ease and saunteringly,

A peasant whistling came along.

"Stop," Robert cried; "I want to know, "Whose are yon stately towers and high?” The peasant look'd; then whistled low,

And shrugg'd his shoulders and pass'd by.

But Arthur ran, and said, "My friend,

66

66

Pray take his words in kindly part;

My brother spake not to offend;

"His speech is rougher than his heart."

The peasant look'd in Arthur's face;

He took his bonnet in his hand: "Yon towers belong to Lady Grace,"

He said, "the towers of Château-grand.

"Now, pardon me, if I advise,

66

Less, Sir, for your sake, than your brother's: "Who puts a question rudely, ties

"A padlock on the lips of others."

And Arthur smiled, and turn'd to see
A touch of red on Robert's face:
"The churl," said Robert, 66 seems to me
"But ill to understand his place."

Then made they for the castle-gate;

66

They rang the bell the warder came :

Quick, open quick; I want to wait,"

Said Robert, "on the Castle-Dame."

The man had stood, with keys prepared,
Behind the gateway to unlock it;

But, hearing Robert's speech, he stared,

And dropt the keys back in his pocket.

Said Arthur in his gentle way,

"Nay, open, kind sir, if you please; "We have not always holiday,

"And few the pleasure-parks like these."

The warder heard: he took his keys: Undid the gate, and answer made he; "I-WANT may go, but IF-YOU-PLEASE

"Is welcome to my noble Lady."

But Arthur, he was loth to stir,

The warder saw, without the other : "Your winsome face, my little sir,"

Said he, "shall pass your ruder brother."

So up the winding walk they pass'd,
Beneath the shade of ancient wood,
And on a smooth lawn came at last,
And on the lawn the castle stood.

And up a staircase wide of stone

They pass'd into a spacious hall; And shield, and spear, and bow, and gun,

And antler'd head hung on the wall.