given me." The reader will easily believe that my purchase was speedily made; the good girl's purse was something the heavier for it; and I had the pleasure of thinking, that I contributed, in a small degree, to reward the goodness of heart which she had so unequivocally displayed. She hastened home with her little treasure, and I returned to my lodging to put my violets into water, promising myself, as I did so, to be a frequent customer to the little nosegay girl of the Pont Neuf.

WITH a heart light and careless I dance in the sun,
When he slants o'er the wave, and the vintage is done--
No maiden so merry as I ;

I rise with the dawn, and I sing through the day
The deeds of the brave, who, in foray or fray,
Reap'd the harvest of glory-I glow till my lay
Seems to lift my rapt soul to the sky!

With my dulcimer, viol, or light tambourine,
My dear native melodies float o'er the green,
And waken the echoes around ;-

The lark stops his note as he soars to the sun;
The herds from their pastures disportingly run;
Nature's impulses all seem to merge into one

At the sweet modulations of sound.

Ye gentles of Provence, come list to my lay;
I've a dirge for the grave, a romance for the gay,
Which their homage has frequently won!

Renown'd in my own native valleys of song,

Like the syrens of old I have charm'd the dull throng,
And you will I charm, if you listen, ere long-
Well, what think you?-my ditty is done!

THE FAIRY SPELL.

A LEGEND.-BY MRS. CRAWFORD,

THE crystal halls in fairy-land
With golden lamps were shining,
And garlands, trained by elfin hand,
Round roof and pillar twining:
The music of a thousand strings

From harps unseen was sounding,
And sprites, with tiny silver wings,
Like motes in sunbeams bounding.

The blue-eyed queen of fairy-land,
With amber tresses flowing,
Sate circled by her courtier band,
Bright smiles on all bestowing:
But there was one amid her train,
A stranger youth, attending;
No fairy he, but mortal swain,

In irksome homage bending.

Titania by a moonlight lake

Had marked his comely features; And fairies, like us mortals, take Strange fancies to male creatures. She stole upon his hour of sleep,

And wove her spells around him; And, while in slumber soft and deep, With twisted lilies bound him.

They bore him off,-her wanton elves; And friends and parents mourning Still wept, and wondered to themselves What marr'd the boy's returning : And oft, of all his sisters, she

His favourite sister-Mary,

Sate weeping 'neath the beechen tree, The haunt of Woodland Fairy.

And there one night, when stars were set,
Like gems in sapphire glowing,
And blooming gowans dripping wet
With tears from ether flowing;
She saw her brother pass along

With troop of fairies wending;

And love, than woman's fear more strong,
Swift wings to light feet lending,

She cleared the daisy without touch,
Nor bruised the cowslip bending;
What speed too great, what zeal too much,
For such a prize contending?
She gained the fairy-ring, and tried

Its magic round to enter;

Her brother waved her off, and sighed, As 'twere a fruitless venture.

Forgotten all that he had said,

Each thought by wonder banished, She stood as one entranced, or dead, "Till all the troop had vanished: And never more that brother's face Was looked upon by Mary; Oh! had she spoke the words of grace, "T had broke the spell of fairy.

At sound of that thrice blessed name,
Our beacon light still burning,
She would have proved her sister claim,
With him to day returning :

But now in crystal halls, he sings

"Aye waking O!"—and weeping, Baptizes with his tears the strings Of harp, sad measure keeping.

His mother dear and sisters three
Eclipse the brightest fairy;
Their human looks he'd rather see,
And talk and sing with Mary,
Than dwell within that magic place,
With all its glittering beauty,-
An alien from his home and race,
And lost to love and duty.

Ye children of the green earth, heed
An aged minstrel's story!-
Man is but like a broken reed,
Without the words of glory.

The spell, that sin has cast o'er all,
In His name must be broken,
Who gave, to rend the unholy thrall,
Salvation's word and token !

TREGOTHNAN CASTLE,

THE SEAT OF THE EARL OF FALMOUTH.

TREGOTHNAN, the seat of Lord Viscount Falmouth, became the property of the Boscawens by marriage with the heiress of Tregothnan in the fourteenth century. The Boscawen family had, at an early period, been settled at Boscawen in Burian, whence, however, they removed to Tregothnan shortly after the union of the families. Hugh Boscawen paid a fine of four marks for not attending at the coronation of Philip and Mary, to receive the honour of knighthood; Richard Boscawen paid a fine of 51. to be released from the order of the Bath at the creation of Prince Henry; but their descen- . dant, Hugh Boscawen, was in 1720 created Baron of Boscawen-Rose, and Viscount Falmouth.

Tregothnan is situated in the parish of St. Michael Penkevil, in the east division of the hundred of Powder, and embraces in the estates surrounding it the possessions of several extinct families. The manor and barton of Penkevil belonged, in the reign of Edward I-, to the house of De Wen, from whom it is supposed it passed in marriage to the Penkevils. It is quite as probable, however, that it was the same family who had changed their name to Penkevil, from the place of their abode, a thing not unusual in those times. They flourished in