her, he first schemed to absent himself for a short time from his home. The plan in its inception was

STONE EDGE. easy enough, but how to bring it to a satisfactory conclusion was another and a more difficult matter

| CHAPTER VI. — SCIENTIFIC AND ANTIQUARIAX. to manage, because his return, while his absence | Ir was towards evening a few days after, ar. was still a cause of uneasiness and surprise, must | Cassie was feeding the chickens, and gazing absentit necessarily involve explanation or justification more at her father's retreating back as he passed out o or less explicit and complete. He kept on postpon- the farm-yard, when she suddenly heard a los ing, therefore, his return, until the exhaustion of whistle, and saw Roland in a dark corner of the corhis resources made postponement no longer possible. shed opposite eagerly watching her. In anotha After his seventeen years' absence he must have moment he had rushed out from his hiding-place, seemed to his wife very much in the light of a stran-caught hold of her, drawn her in among the stacks ger, of whom it was not easy to demand explanation, and was kissing her behind their friendly shelter simply as a matter of course. He was not the same “What a time it is sin' I have a see'd thee," said to her as a husband from whom she had recently he; “but my feyther wouldna let me stir, — de been parted. She had become resigned and recon- watches me like a cat does a moos. He lets me go ciled in a great measure to his disappearance, and a bit, and then 's down wi' his foot on me happen I the extent of her surprise at his return would, for a go a good yard out o' th' town. I shouldna ha' gos time, at any rate, absorb every other feeling. Yet, here to year, but he sent me wi' a message to Amos be sure, that afterwards, and to the end of her days, Young, and I chanced on un at the turn o'th' road, Mrs. Howe, - if she shrunk from questioning him, and so nipped up the nob." was nevertheless always wondering within herself “My feyther's altogether as savage wi' thee and why her husband had quitted her.

thine," answered she.“ What would he do an be He was not in debt, as we have seen; and it is were to see thee here? He says thy feyther telled not probable that he was involved in any trouble of un as how there were a lass wi' money down to her a political kind, or he would surely have quitted the portion, as he were a keepin' on wi' a long sigit o' country or hidden himself far more completely from time back for thee,” said Cassie, looking shyly and the eyes of his fellows. Indeed, day after day he anxiously into his face. must have been in extreme danger of his secret be- Roland whistled incredulously. "I dunna know ing discovered. He was forever haunting the neigh-o'any lass as is a waitin' for me, but I know the lass borhood in which his wife resided, - as though cu- as I'm a waitin' for," he went on, putting his arm rious to know how she bore his absence, - how she round her. supported her widowed condition ; whether, by her “ How long wilt thou wait, dearie?” said she, conduct under her affliction, she gave proof of her with a shy smile. " Thou 'st not a good one at worthiness to bear his name, of her title to the love waiting at all, I take it. My feyther's back were he had once felt, or professed to feel for her. Yet, scarce turned afore thou whistled, -an he'd a come for long years, Mrs. Howe endured this inspection, back where would we ha' been ?” patiently as Penelope : her Ulysses contemplating “ Dost thou wish I should be pleased to wait for her the while, — with this difference, that although thee? But I'd bided there a smattish while i' th' disguised, he had never wandered. He had been cowshed afore thou seed'st me; - a mortal long absent most ingloriously, - hiding himself, for no while," he repeated, energetically. known reason, but a few streets off. If she had “A cock's stride, as folks say," answered she, beaten him well on his return, who could have laughing, as she pointed to the big cock who had blamed her ? Who (except, perhaps, her husband) followed them among the corn-ricks. “It makes would not have forgiven her ? He had been guilty believe as it takes a long step, and 't aint nothink at of wanton cruelty, and deserved punishment of a all! I take it thou 'st but a make-believe too, Rocondign kind.

land,” said she, fondly, " when thou say 'st an thee 'll Hawthorne imagines the man to have been pos- bide any time for me. Thou 'lt forget me afore I sessed of a curious selfishness, rusting in his inactive shall thee, wi' all this coil o'troubles.” mind, - of a peculiar sort of vanity, of a disposition. It took so long for Roland to rebut these calumto craft, which, up to the time of his going away, nies and to prove his unalterable faith, that the had seldom produced more positive effects than the gloaming fell, and he was obliged to leare her before keeping of petty secrets hardly worth revealing the subject was half over. Undoubtedly there are many people much en- “I havena said half o'what I'd a got to tell thee amored of a mystery for its own sake, — prone to set nayther," he ended, sorrowfully. value upon a secret simply because it is a secret, and There was a light in Cassie's face as she came into without any regard to its intrinsic worth ; just as the the house that told only too plainly what had been thieving magpie in the old story hid the silver spoons, taking place outside. Lydia shook her head lov. - not because the spoons could be of the slightest ingly at her. use to it, but because its mischievous propensities « Thee must tell un not to come again, dearie. found pleasure in hiding away all sorts of things. An thee feyther finds un he'll be that mad angry Mr. Howe may have been a man of this kind; it he 'll balf kill us all. Bid Roland bide awhile, till may have been a source of pleasure to him to reflect this storm-time be overpast. Mebbe thee aunt will that he had securely hidden himself away from his do summut for him whiles, by nows and thens." wife and his friends.

As Roland came out of the farm-yard gate, with It may be that the man was slightly mad. Over-eyes in the back of his head instead of in front, be indulgence in a crotchet may land many a man in fell full upon old Ashford, who had returned home an absolute craze. And those who are addicted to earlier than usual. The height to which the unsowing whims should be counselled to take heed tamed passions of those who habitually yield to them lest, as a consequence, they reap manias. Yet, if I can reach, the effect of irresponsible power and unHowe was mad, there was certainly method in his checked temper in secluded places where public madness, and it endured for seventeen years. Topinion does not come, is something terrible. When

Saturday

men live in communities they are forced to give and would write on the evils attached to reading and take, and education and civilization, though they do writing: how memory decays and independent not do much for us, teach us at least to restrain, or thought diminishes under its baneful influences. at the worst disguise their violence. The horror in- The difficulties and expense of writing with a waxen spired by the deeds of the feudal lords in France tablet and a style, or whatever Mr. Grote may setshow to what this sometimes amounted. The wild- tle was the custom, must have prevented most beast state of fury to which Henry VIII. was said Greeks from infringing Plato's precept; and the occasionally to have been roused, has few modern population generally of Athens evidently trusted to equivalents; though there was a great official not talk for their information, and memory for its retenlong ago who has been seen to sweep the table-cover tion : yet no one ever denied the intelligence and of a drawing-room on to the floor, breaking and de- high culture of that sharp-witted people. Nanny stroying its miscellaneous contents, in a fit of rage, Elmes was so far like an old Greek (à Rhapsodist at one fell swoop.

shall we say ?) that her memory seemed able to conAshford's fury was fearful to witness. After vent- tain anything she gave it to keep, and that she went ing his passion upon Roland, he turned into the from house to house, always welcome to her bite house, knocking down the chairs as he passed, up- and sup, and a warm greeting besides, bearing to setting the tea-table in his blind rage, and striking all who chose, in a poetical though not perhaps exat the women, who slunk terrified away. “0, mas- actly rhythmical form, the news of the district, the ter, remember the baby,” said poor Lydia, pitifully," hauts faits” of the community. How Tommy but the appeal only seemed to add fuel to the flame; Young, working at a mine of his own sinking in the while Roland, who felt that his ill-timed visit was“ king's field " * of the mountain opposite, had the cause of all, hovered round the door, not dar- smoked out Sammy Goodale, who had been brought ing to go in, lest it should aggravate matters. The “ to grass” for dead ; the said Tommy having susnoise at last brought up German.

pected 'Sammy of hitting on his own particular vein “Is there nowt to be done to bring him out?” of lead ore, and after all “it were only a working said Roland, seizing him by the arm in a great of the old man”; the mysterious miner of the anstate of agitation. “Hearken, it's all one as if he cient times. How the quarrymen had set fire to a were mad.”

“blast" a bit too soon, and poor Willy, who was “ Turn the pigs into the potatoes, or the barley weakly, would surely have been killed, an his uncle mead 's best, -it ain't sheared yet," said German, had n't rushed forward and dragged him out, though readily. “I've ony just shut to the gate. Feyther his own leg were broken by a big stone. And these left it open, and the pigs is a' in the lane handy." things are much more graphic as given by word of And while Roland ran off to make good the fact, mouth, with look and gesture, than in cold print. German walked in at the door and said, without Nanny was also esteemed as wise in all ways, thereraising his voice, —

fore the women rejoiced greatly to see her. “Feyther, the pigs is in the barley mead, a doin' “Eh, Nanny,” said Lydia, “but ye 're welcome as no end o' damage, and I canna get ’um out wi' out flowers in May! Where ha' ye been this ever so you."

long? Here's the master so bad he canna hardly The first effect of the interruption was only to stir; wunnot ye think o'summat to do him good ?" divert the stream of wrath on German's head; but "For what dunno yo try a charm, Master Ashin a few minutes the old man hurried off, and the ford ? " said old Nanny, setting down her basket excitement and fatigue of the pig-hunt created such and standing with arms a-kimbo in a determined a diversion, that when he came back out of breath way opposite him; “ they 're fine things whiles. I it was just possible for Lydia to make him under-tried one when my Johnny were sick with th' chinstand that the crime should not happen again, whooping cough, as they telled me of. He were though his savage ill-humor for the rest of the even- to be set backards of a donkey and to ride nine ing made all communication like walking on live times round an ash-tree, and a did un a deal o'good.” coals.

“But I thowt Johnny died o'th' chincough," said The next day he was “ down” in a tremendous fit Lydia, humbly and anxiously; with no touch of of rheumatic gout. Whether the fit of passion scorn, but an earnest desire to ascertain her facts brought on illness, or the illness the passion, the wo- before she entered on the interpretation of the law men had a hard time of it, and his temper was ter- of this peculiar mode of medicine. rible to bear. They hardly knew what to do with “Ay, he died for sure, but they said 't were behim, when one evening old Nanny the carrier came cause I couldna get the ass up till mebbe a week in at the door. Nanny Elmes was an important in- afore he were taken. Anyhow, all the while he stitution. Outwardly she was only a hale, wiry were ridin' 't were wonderful how quiet the cough little old woman, who carried about a basket con- were.” taining tapes, buttons, needles, and pins, and such “But I hanna got the chincough,” said Ashford, small ware; but in fact the functions of post-office, sulkily. electric telegraph, railroad, and shop, culminated in “ Nay, but there's charms and charms. Some her. As writing was a rare accomplishment, com- folks thinks a deal o' a necklace of coins fro' the munication was chiefly verbal in the district, and communion money, but I arena much for that," generally passed through Nanny, who never forgot answered Nanny, who was a stanch Dissenter with or mistook anything. But then she had the great a touch of pride. “It may be all very well for advantage of not being able to read and write : and Church folk, but them as is brought up i' the light what says Plato? “ Write nothing, for what has o'truth don'ot hold by such ways." once been written is sure to disappear from the "I wonna be worrited nayther by physics nor memory." And Mrs. Elmes (no mean authority) charms,” growled the old man, doggedly." Where agreed entirely with Plato, and always held up to hae ye bin to all this while ? tell me summat.” scorn "them as trusted to their finner-ends ithstead of to their brains.” I wish among the scores of es

" I've been up i' th' Dales to Stoney Tracey. Imun ba' been Squire Rivers from that side country! allus goes there by nows and thens. Flour's up Well-a-day, what maggots them quality does tak again, I heerd say,” said Nanny, as the boy German wi'; cos they has n't nowt else to do I take it! Pas came in with a sack on his head; “sure it's an un- if I'd ha' know'd it were the old squire I wouldres common price. Ye mun tak' heed to the Hobb- ha' made so free." thursts."

“Well, ye 'd the best on him about the jugs, 227“ What's them?” inquired German, with much how,” said Nanny, cheerfully. interest, as he came up behind her, hoping for a “Ay, that had l; had n't I?” repeated the old “ tale," while Cassandra turned round from washing man, much pleased. "I tuk the change out on him her pans to hear; and even Lydia paused in her there, I did.” spinning to listen.

After all, Nanny had brought a charm with her: " Hast thee niver heerd,” said the old woman, “o' and approved herself a good leech. Ashford it the big boggat as robs the mills up ith' Dales, for proved from that time. She had amused him, and a' the doors be safe locked ? ”

| listened to and admired him, two of the best seda“ And how does he get in ?” asked the boy, with tives known in any pharmacopeia. round open eyes peering eagerly into the old woman's face.

« They say giant Hobb hath ever a little un alongside ohim, a dwarf like, as he puts through the CHAPTER VII. — FERN-CUTTING ON THE DRUID'S HILL window o'th' mill to tak'the meal. And the butter, It was a beautiful day late in October about a too, ain't safe; but how that mid be I canna say, 1 month after. “German," said his father, coming for they 're all 'fraid to look out when he comes." wearily into the house, “ we mun ha' more bracket

“Nay,” said old Ashford, “I wunna ha' my lad cut for fodder down i' th’ Parson's Lot. Ye mungo telled such a pack o' nonsense tales a' thattens, a down to-day, or it'll be too wet. I do b'leeve there kippin' him frae his work. There ain't no such ain't the kip o' a single heifer upo' the whole lot. things in nature, not a bit. And the Hobb niver I mun get what I can out of it. I were a fool to was knowed to come beyont the Dale," he added, promise thretty shillin' a year for't, — the meresconclusively in authority if not in reasoning. men said as how it werena much above three acre.

“ Well," replied the woman, anyhow there's The old mare can git with the cart as far as the Squire Rivers been a pokin' and a diggin' into gate. I canna go, and Cassie 'd better go i tho things as he'd better leave alone. I doubt the Hobb stead to help thee.” will be arter his meal anyways. He's been into the German knew that it was much too late in the cavern as they ca' Ludchurch, and t other hole, season for cutting bracken, but nothing was ever where the Hobb has his lodging they allus say.” done in time at Stone Edge; and he and his sister

“Dear heart, what fools there do be in th' world,” took their sickles in silence and went down as they said Ashford, oracularly. “There were a queer were desired. Nothing, in fact, conld be less relittle fella wi’ spectacles on 's nose, as comed here munerative or more beautiful than the ground in speerin' questions up and down, mebbe a twelve- question. It lay some distance from the farm, where month back. "And what's them figures upo' th' the shelter of the warmer valley began. The steep house ?' says he. “I dunna know,' says I. I beant hillsido was clothed with sweeps of wood, amongst booklearned' - short like, to ha' done wi'un. which the gray piles of rock appeared ; the soil was

And how do ye ca’ this, and what do ye ca't'other?' so shallow indeed, and so broken with stones, that he goes on, none daunted. “And what's the name one wondered how the tall trees found nourishment o'yon little hill nigh there?' Lose Hill,' says I. of any kind. Here and there were open spaces cor. And that other t'other?'

ered with heather and bracken, which in this autumn 6 Ah, that'll be Win Hill he'd mean," said Nan- time had ripened to a russet brown, diversified with ny, much interested.

| brilliant yellow and green patches of rushy grass, . Yes,' says he. “I've a heerd tell o' that. rich in color beyond description. Slender white There were a big battle here atwixt the Danes and | birch-stems and pendant mountain-ash hung with a them as were o'th' country-side. And an this be wreath of scarlet berries, grew in groups here and Lose Hill, where were the folks buried as were there. A strip of this unprofitable beauty had been killed i' th' fight? What's yon mound ?' he says, allotted to the parson in some primitive distribution peering wi' his head o' one side, and his sharp eyes of the unenclosed soil; and a scraggy heifer or two and barnacles. What, thattens ? do ye mean Ded-belonging to Ashford now gained a scanty living on dun's Mead?' says I. That's it,' he goes on. | it, with an immense amount of toil. It was chiefly · Dead Man's Mead' (as if he know'd a deal more valuable to him for the fern, which saved straw, and o'it nor I, as had lived on it man and boy all my German always rather enjoyed the expedition. days). Ha' ye never digged nor found anything i' | Any change is pleasant to a bov, even to a hillside thi "lowe?” “What would there be ? Gold, a mile off; and he drove his old mare down the hill man?' I cum down sharp on 'im. Nay, friend, with his sister by bis side, shaken to pieces, but both nowt but dead men's bones, and pikeheads, and very merry. German unharnessed the mare and cracked jugs, mebbe,'" he says.

tied her up, and Cassie wandered on with her sickle "And what for should ye fash yersen wi' thattens, in hand. Over all passed the shadows of the great I wonder ? ” put in Nanny.

fleecy clouds overhead, which sailed across the blue “Well and that's just what I says to un. I sky, throwing a changing shade here and there over want na bones, nor cracked jugs; there's eneach the woods and hills, making the sunlit portions still Oʻ them, and porringers too, i' th' house, wi' a' the more lovely in their autumn dress. Presently she lads and lasses break!' Wi' that he laughed right thought she heard voices in the little grassy lane, out, —- ye could ha' heerd him right over the hill. which ran on the other side of the small stream at • Mebbe ye'r in the right there, my man; they the bottom of the hill, and she leaned against the would n't be oʻmuch account to you!' and a looked ruined wall, overspread with ivy and beautiful so queer out o' his eyes; and I heerd arter as it creeping plants, and hidden in a covert of honey

Saturday

suckle and fern. Presently three men came out of while neither German nor Cassie were suffered to a field on the other side of the lane. Joshua was go down to their uncle's at Youlcliffe. warmly debating the value of a horse, which he had One market-day, however, the old man's rheujust been trying, with its master, the miller. matics were so bad that he summoned German to

“I tell ye the nag's ten year old an she's a day. | take the old mare and go down with a sample of She ayn't worth five pounds," shouted he.

oats in his stead. “ She 's worth more nor any horse you ever had,” | “And I shall go and see my aunt," said the boy, retorted the miller. “You might ride her to Youl- stoutly. His father was grunting a refusal, but cliffe without her turning a hair."

Lydia interposed, and his wrath was diverted on • Roland, little interested, stood holding his father's her devoted head. horse and his own, and looking sadly up the valley “Feyther keeps her there argufying an it were which led to Stone Edge, - so intently, that Cassie her fault he's got a rick in 's back," said German to felt sure he would miss seeing her, and yet by mov- his sister, who came with him to the door. ing she was afraid of drawing his father's attention. “Here's the kitling as she axed me for a long At last his eyes caught sight of German in the fern time back. How wilt thou carry it?" answered high up on the bill, and came eagerly down in search she. of her. There was a small close, and tolerably į “Gie it me in here,” said German, opening his wide brook, and the wall on the bank between waistcoat, and the kitten was dropped into rather them, across which they stood looking at each other. dangerous proximity to his skin, but apparently His father and the miller went on gesticulating and quite satisfied with its situation. arguing within a couple of yards of him, screaming, “Thou 'st main good, lad, to dumb beasts,” obswearing, appealing, defending, while Roland, half served Lydia, admiringly, who had come up. hidden by the horses, gazed across the intervening "'T ain't a many as 'ud dare to ha' a cat's claws so space, and sadly said most eloquent things in that nigh their flesh." unvoiced conversation; and Cassie from her covert, « See Roland an thee canst, lad, and bring me masked by fern, under the changing shadows of the word o' him," whispered Cassie in her brother's ear, birch and mountain-ash, answered him again in the as he mounted the long-legged beast with his bursame language. At length Joshua, in the necessary den before him. passion, all in the way of business, turned suddenly “ And get me twal shirt-button," cried Lydia, as round, seized his horse's bridle out of his son's hand, he rode away. and rode off, saying, “ Come, Roland, I'll none Having arrived at Youlcliffe, put up his horse, waste my time with such roundings."

| and done his business, without seeing any signs of He was very sharp-eyed was Joshua, but a bar- Roland, he betook himself to bis aunt's, whom he gain is a bargain and an absorbing occupation, and found sitting jovial, cheerful, and red with heat, he was watching the changes on the miller's face, near a tremendous fire on a very hot day. In the not the unprofitable quivering of mountain-ashes. abundance of coal in that district, it is thought bad Luckily the miller's last words were long. “ We'll manners and hospitality ever to let down the fire, halve the difference. You 'll think of it again," was however much suffering it may entail on one's self thrown backward and forward fiercely. Roland and one's friends. could not leave Cassie thus without a word. He “Well, German,” said she, “and I'm very glad took his chance, passed his horse's bridle under a to see yer. Yes, I'm purely, thank ye, only I canna stone on the wall, vaulted it, leaped at the brook, get shut o' the pean in my yead. By times it's stumbled on the muddy bank and slipped with one enough to drive a dog mad." leg into the water, sprang up the other side, and “I've a brought the kitling, aunt, and it's a seized her by the hands with the greatest difficulty black one Cassie bid me say she had a chose,” said as he clung on to the wall.

be, as he drew forth the little woolly bundle and set “0, Roland !” said she, bending down from her it on a chair, where it stretched itself after its close high estate, and looking like a Druid priestess with packing, and contemplated existence in a grand her sickle under the oak-tree. “Thee father will way very deliberately. be just right down mad. Go off, my lad. Lyddy "Dear heart alive, but it's a pretty un! They bid me tell you thou mustna come again till thy tell me it's good luck to bring a black cat to a feyther and mine agree.”

house, but I dunna set great store by a' them things He had no time for remonstrances. In another folks says." moment he had cleared the stream and the wall “ Thou 'lt be fine and hungry, lad,” said his again, had leapt on his horse and followed his father, uncle. “You young uns can eat your bellyful a carefully riding on the off-side of him to conceal his many times over i' th' day. Thou 'st nigh clemmed, wet leg. Joshua was in high glee at getting the I take it. The air 's very strong and healthful at cob a few shillings cheaper than it was worth, and Stone Edge.” chatted on cheerfully to his son without perceiving * Here's wheaten bread and cheese,” said the old his preoccupation. Cassie stood listening to the woman, “wbile I warm the bacon and broad beans sharp sound of the horses' tread on the limestone left frae our dinner; there's nobbut a bilin' o' 'em which followed the unseen line of road far down the left, I take it. And how 's Cassie?” she inquired, valley, till at a bend in the hillside it stopped sud- standing over the boy and hospitably heaping the denly, when she turned round with a sigh.

food on his plate. “I take it as very hard as I “Well, I niver!” said German, laughing, behind canna see her. One's own piece is a deal more to her. “And that sharp un, Joshuay, not to see a one nor one's husband's; leastwise when hur 's like mossel o' it right under his very nose! We shanna Martha Savage.” get much bracken tho' at this rate. Thee mun help “ Thee niver canst abide Martha, my missis," me to stack what I've got intil th' cart, or we shanna said old Nathan, smiling. get home to-night."

“She've à tongue like a nutmeg grater, and

she's as sharp as a ferret." The winter passed on and they never met again, “ There ain't a mossel o' harm in her," answered

her husband ; " but she do talk, there's no denying As he went out of the door he fell upon Roland

rushing eagerly after him. “I can see Stone Edge “ Talk !” replied Mrs. Broom, energetically. from Win Hill above our close," said he, "for “ She'd talk a horse's leg off! And she were the there's two dales and three shoulders o' the bill be ugliest baby as ever I set eyes on,” continued the twixt us. Tell Cassie if she'd go up to the Stone* old woman, in this rather miscellaneous catalogue wi' you, and make a fire o' weeds, I should see the of Mrs. Martha's crimes.

white smoke plain, and take it as a sign she ha a: "Fou' in the cradle, fair in the saddle, they forgotten me. Tell her I shall go up every evening say, you know," said Nathan, laughing.

till I see it." * Nay, there ye're quite out," answered his wife, With which injunctions German rode home: triumphantly; «that saddle wunna fit, for she ain't prices for his father, buttons for his mother, and this fair, and she's never been upo' a horse's back in her primitive love-token for his sister. born days: but thou lovest them proverbs so as Stone Edge overlooked the whole country. I thou ’lt fit 'um upo' a' heads."

one direction the Dale stretched far up to the purple German meantime was doing full justice even to moors in a pale distance. About it the mountains his aunt's Benjamin portion of food; his mouth had were tumbled into an extraordinary variety of peaks hitherto been too busy for talk, but there is an end and shoulders, with precipitous valleys huddled in even to a boy's appetite.

between, while beyond the long slow ugly ascent “ Thank yer kindly, aunt, I'm full,” he said at which lay behind rose other hills and valleys far and last, in answer to her renewed entreaties to eat, as dim. On the extreme summit stood the stones of he rose.

some great Druidical work, remnants of forgotten * And how's yer father ?” she began. " He's worship. Two great uprights still remained, and a very nasty-tempered. I've no patience wi' him for 's rocking-stone. They must have been a most poeticways. His head's as full o'maggots [fancies] as an minded priesthood : their temples are placed in the egg is o' meat."

finest situations for effect of natural scenery that "Hush, wife,” said Nathan, who took the side of can be chosen. Stonehenge, with its almost illimitthe authorities. “Ye mustna say that afore his son. able horizon of plain, with something of the same He's a bit westy by times is Ashford, that's a'. By'r grandeur as the sea, the Cornish rocking-stone on Lady, is it!” – (the curious old Catholic oath of the its stern granite precipices, within hearing of the district).*

never-resting dash of waves, the Northern remains, " What, when he keeps Cassie mewed up wi' his are each perfect in its kind. tantrums, and won't so much as let her own aunt The Edge must have been seen far and near, and ha’ the view on her! And here's my own sister's the signal-fires — which were no mean substitute for son as I ha' hardly set eyes on sin' he were growed | telegraphs - could have been transmitted from such

a centre with almost electric rapidity. Still, there “Besides," said Nathan the wise, “correction 's were other hills near, apparently as good for this good for childer.” And he went on chanting, in a purpose, and nothing but the keenest sense of the grave, sonorous voice, –

majesty and grandeur which such a position would “Solomon said, in accents mild,

add to their ceremonies, could have induced men in Spare the rod and spile the child ;

those pathless mountains to spend so much labor as Be they man or be they maid,

was required to raise such vast stones on such a spot, Whip them and whallop them, Solomon said!"

- the worship of the beauty of Nature, which we “I dunna see as man or maid either 's the better are now taught to think came into the world only for cuttin'in to," answered German, meditatively, as with and since good roads and convenient posthe put the finishing stroke to a stick-head which he chaises ” gave people leisure to look about. No was making for his uncle with his beloved new knife. doubt it was a different feeling from what prompts " I ain't a bit of wood, as he should carve me into a young lady to put her head languidly out of a what fashion. he fancies. Here's yer stick, uncle, carriage-window and say, “Look, papa, what a pretty and long health to use it, and I wish I was where mountain !" the stick will be, — along with yer.”

The old Druid probably believed in his everlast* Thank ye kindly, my lad, and the same to you, ing hills with a deep reverence mixed with fear. and dunna ye be in too great a haste wi' your life. The earth-god had been at strange work in his wrath There be a deal o' pride i’ th' world wants felling.” here, he probably thought; and those scarred cliffs

“I bean't a learnin' nothin'; it's just muddlin' and rifted mountains were no pastime for a smoking, and milkin' and wabblin'i'th' mud arter plough-tail. flirting, noisy, draggled pleasure-train as now; but I'm like the little donkeys i’ th’ lane, I canna addle the signs of an offended God, propitiated probably [earn) naught." The burgher blood from his mother

by some fearful rites on that solitary peak of " earthwas stirring curiously in the lad. “ Roland would o'ergazing mountains." And there the young girl ha' learnt me to write and cipher, but feyther went up the next day and lit her signal-fire. The would n' let me nigh him. Well, good by, uncle. thin blue smoke curled outwards and away, and I must go; the minits runs as fast as rats down seemed to bear her thoughts with it. Even such here."

communication, however, was a comfort to her, as "I want ye for to go to Amos Young's, up your she watched dreamily the answering beacon from way, German," shouted his aunt after him, “and get the other hill. me some pills. My inside's very tickle for to fettle, and I mun hae 'em from him."

"I'll go and welcome; but I did n't know as he'd WHAT TOM MAXWELL DID. a knowed owt o' doctoring," answered her nephew. “Who was that young fellow who seemed to be

“No, but he's a very pious man," said Mrs. Broom, rather épris with your rector's pretty daughter ?* convincedly.

said I to my friend Marcus Jermyn, as I tore off my

white tie, flung my dress-boots into a corner, and * " By 'r lady shall she." - See Capulet : Romeo and Juliet. I prepared to settle myself down comfortably to a