O there were kisses sweet as dew, and words as soft as rainBut they have heard her father's step, and in he leaps again!

Out spoke the ancient fisherman-" O what was that, my daughter?"

""Twas nothing but a pebble, sir, I threw into the water." "And what is that, pray tell me, love, that paddles off so

fast?"

"It's nothing but a porpoise, sir, that's been a-swimming past."

Out spoke the ancient fisherman-"Now bring me my harpoon!

I'll get into my fishing-boat, and fix the fellow soon." Down fell that pretty innocent, as falls a snow-white lamb; Her hair drooped round her pallid cheeks, like sea-weed on a clam.

Alas for those two loving ones! she waked not from her swound,

And he was taken with the cramp, and in the waves was

drowned;

But Fate has metamorphosed them, in pity of their wo, And now they keep an oyster-shop for mermaids down below. Oliver Wendell Holmes.

THE WELL OF ST. KEYNE

A WELL there is in the west country,
And a clearer one never was seen;
There is not a wife in the west country
But has heard of the Well of St. Keyne.

An oak and an elm-tree stand beside,
And behind doth an ash-tree grow,
And a willow from the bank above
Droops to the water below.

A traveller came to the Well of St. Keyne,
Joyfully he drew nigh,

The Well of St. Keyne

For from cock-crow he had been travelling,
And there was not a cloud in the sky.

He drank of the water so cool and clear,
For thirsty and hot was he;

And he sat down upon the bank

Under the willow-tree.

There came a man from the house hard by

At the well to fill his pail;

On the well-side he rested it,

And he bade the stranger hail.

"Now art thou a bachelor, stranger?" quoth he,
"For an if thou hast a wife,

The happiest draught thou hast drank this day
That ever thou didst in thy life.

"Or hast thy good woman, if one thou hast,

Ever here in Cornwall been?

For an if she have, I'll venture my life

She has drank of the Well of St. Keyne."

"I have left a good woman who never was here,"

The stranger he made reply;

"But that my draught should be the better for that, I pray you answer me why?"

"St. Keyne," quoth the Cornishman, "many a time Drank of this crystal well,

And before the angels summon'd her,

She laid on the water a spell.

"If the husband of this gifted well

Shall drink before his wife,

A happy man thenceforth is he,

For he shall be master for life.

"But if the wife should drink of it first, God help the husband then!"

585

The stranger stooped to the Well of St. Keyne,
And drank of the water again.

"You drank of the well, I warrant, betimes?"

He to the Cornishman said:

But the Cornishman smiled as the stranger spake, And sheepishly shook his head.

"I hasten'd as soon as the wedding was done,

And left my wife in the porch;

But i' faith she had been wiser than me,

For she took a bottle to church."

Robert Southey.

THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS

THE Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair!
Bishop, and Abbot, and Prior were there;
Many a monk, and many a friar,

Many a knight and many a squire,

With a great many more of lesser degree

In sooth, a goodly company;

And they served the Lord Primate on bended knee. Never, I ween,

Was a prouder seen,

Read of in books, or dreamt of in dreams,

Than the Cardinal Lord Archbishop of Rheims!

In and out

Through the motley rout,

That little Jackdaw kept hopping about;

Here and there,

Like a dog in a fair,

Over comfits and cates,

And dishes and plates,

Cowl and cope, and rochet and pall,

Mitre and crosier, he hopped upon all!
With saucy air,

He perched on the chair

Where, in state, the great Lord Cardinal sat
In the great Lord Cardinal's great red hat;

The Jackdaw of Rheims

587

And he peered in the face

Of his Lordship's grace,

With a satisfied look, as if he would say,

"We two are the greatest folks here to-day!" And the priests, with awe,

As such freaks they saw,

Said, "The devil must be in that little Jackdaw!"

The feast was over, the board was cleared,
The flawns and the custards had all disappeared,
And six little singing-boys-dear little souls!
In nice clean faces, and nice white stoles,
Came, in order due,

Two by two,

Marching that grand refectory through!

A nice little boy held a golden ewer,
Embossed and filled with water, as pure

As any that flows between Rheims and Namur,
Which a nice little boy stood ready to catch
In a fine golden hand-basin made to match.
Two nice little boys, rather more grown,
Carried lavender-water and eau-de-Cologne;
And a nice little boy had a nice cake of soap,
Worthy of washing the hands of the Pope.
One little boy more

A napkin bore,

Of the best white diaper, fringed with pink,
And a cardinal's hat marked in "

permanent ink."

The great Lord Cardinal turns at the sight
Of these nice little boys dressed all in white:
From his finger he draws

His costly turquoise,

And, not thinking at all about little Jackdaws,
Deposits it straight

By the side of his plate,

While the nice little boys on his Eminence wait;
Till, when nobody's dreaming of any such thing,
That little Jackdaw hops off with the ring!

There's a cry and a shout,

And a deuce of a rout,

And nobody seems to know what they're about,
But the monks have their pockets all turned inside out;
The friars are kneeling,

And hunting and feeling

The carpet, the floor, and the walls, and the ceiling. The Cardinal drew

Off each plum-coloured shoe,

And left his red stockings exposed to the view;
He peeps and he feels,

In the toes and the heels;

They turn up the dishes, they turn up the plates,
They take up the poker and poke out the grates,
They turn up the rugs,
They examine the mugs—
But no! no such thing;

They can't find THE RING!

And the Abbot declared that "when nobody twigged it, Some rascal or other had popped in and prigged it."

The Cardinal rose with a dignified, look,

He called for his candle, his bell, and his book!
In holy anger and pious grief,

He solemnly cursed that rascally thief!

He cursed him at board, he cursed him in bed; From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head; He cursed him in sleeping, that every night He should dream of the devil, and wake in a fright; He cursed him in eating, he cursed him in drinking, He cursed him in coughing, in sneezing, in winking; He cursed him in sitting, in standing, in lying; He cursed him in walking, in riding, in flying; He cursed him in living, he cursed him in dying!— Never was heard such a terrible curse!

But, what gave rise

To no little surprise,

Nobody seemed one penny the worse!