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FOETE3T.
h
FROM THE BOSTOjI STATESMAN.
LIFE’S PLEASURES.
Life hath its hourof joy—there Calls* '
No gloom on childhood’s auniiy brow,
No care that bows—no bonrilhat thralls ■-
The heart, can liters gay nrarning know.
But oh! for childhood’s sunny hours.
In vain die heart in aftci years'
Shall seek—when withered by the blight
Of disappointment—when the cares
Of life are crowding on the mind,
When by fate’s Taintless phantom led
In search of joy, it mourns to find
The promis’d bliss for ever fled.
Life hath its hours of Hope—its dreams
Of confidence and vows of truth—
When fancy, with his brightest beams
Has lighted up the path of youth;
But soon or late a time must come,
When dreams of youth must pass away,
And sorrow cast its veil of gloom,
Before its bright and cheering ray;
The noblest feelings of the heart,
Of pure and deep affection born,
From the chilled bosom shall depart,
Withered by cold neglect and scorn.
Life hath its hour of Love—it brings
A strange compound of hopes and fears:—
\brightest of life’s imaginings
, In Love in youth’s unclouded years;
2ut oh; how oft its charm hath past
Like visions of the night away !
Swtpt o’er by disappointment’s blast,
Living the heart in dread decay.
Tilt fondest and the loveliest form
T>at e’er hath known love’s rapturous spell
Hasfcunk beneath the wasting storm
Teat on its true affections fell.
Life hath its bliss—the Miss that flows
Frbra consciousness of having deno '.
Our da* - , at life’s weary’ close,
\Vhen slowly sinks existence’ sun;
When W3 can look around and see
No Ml i. accusing spirit near,
When Torn the bond of earth set free
The weary soul hath joy to hear
Its summons to a brighter clime,
Wheii earthly woes no entrance find,
And wlym the dreary hours of time
Are left, with all their cares, behind.
otho of Germany, and the pirate of
1JHE MEDITERRANEAN.
A heavy\ rain ushered in a bleak autum
nal night which ploscd over the field of Bu-
sentelle ; aopte$hng t in almost impenetra
ble darkcKtw^il&Wiilit ofy the fugitive, and
“ its gloomy influence,
j . ^jaApursner.
AMo rDttM^, t , of thedayhad
?f onset, the neigh-
thetrura-
given place ip>ihe-. ! S^2* 1 * vo ' < t£
No sound met
Of the wind rushing through the half Jq»J'' 8S
forest, as two knights, armed can^a-
forced their way through the t^pglel mazes
of a thick wood, bordering on the ill ores of
the Mediterranean. ^
‘The game is up !’ exclaimed!the fore
most rider, suddenly springing 4 frpm his
steed, as the heavily caparisoned war-char
ger sank under him ; ‘ and my lifp and dia
dem are not worth an hours purchased’,’
‘ Courage, Royal Otho i’ said his com-
. panion, likewise dismounting ; and speak
ing in a hollow and suppressed voice, as
though the action gave him great pain; ‘ the
hope that has carried you thus far from the
hot pursuit of your enemies must yet bear
you on.*
‘ Notv by saint Peter, noble count!
Tour advice is physic to a dying man. My
good steed has hreathed his last, and these
weary limbs will poorly aid me in eluding
the scent of the bloodhounds who track my
steps*’
* Danger besets you on every side, * re
turned the wounded knight, impatiently ;
but delay is certain death. Mount my horse,
and speed for life through the forest.’
* I value existence too little to
of feature.
on. the past. . Where
ingg lor the night ? To e
\yoyld be to risk discovery
qnhditating on the course to be pursued,
sound of revelry met his ear—the laugh, the
song, the wild huzza, rose on the wind and
niingled with the hollow wailing of the bil
lows, which rolled in living brightness at Ids
feet. Otho looked Cautiously round, as a
boisterous peal of merriment awoke the
lonely echo of the place’; but though the
sound seemed near, no object met his eye,
but the broad expanse of moving water, and
the deep shadow of the bold craggy rock
beneath which lie stood.- He began to think
something of magical delusion prevailed.—
At length the following ditty was chanted
in full chorus, by manly voices ; in his na
tive tongue :
Where the sun warms, or the tempest low’rs, i
The t reasures ofocean and earth are ours ;
Freedom and conquest attend our sail,
And the prize shall be ours e’er the moon turn pale.
The wind that ruffles the breast of the deep,
And howls round our cavern, shall lull us to sleep;
We sail by the glory of moonbeam and star,
And shout to the billow that bears us afar.
Rear a hand ! hear a hand ! unmoor the boat
Y\ ith the wind and the tide to our vessel float:
When the black flag is hoisted, rude warfare is,nigh,
Where its dark shadow quivers the boldest will fly.
Then, courage, my mates, the wind sings loud,
The moon has burst from her swarthy cloud,
Again must we dash through the angry roar,
Of the foaming surge ere the night is o’er !
This wild burst freed the Emperor from
doubt as to the profession of the revellers ;
and he rightly concluded that he was near
the rendezvous of one of the notorious hordes
of pirates which, in that dark age, infested
every island and shore of the Mediterranean.
Finding he was likely to escape from ScylJa
only to fall into Charybdis, he was about to
bend his course differently, when his horse,
with the natural sagacity of the species, find
ing himself near the haunts of men, neighed
long and loudly. The sound had scarcely
gone forth', before all was silent in the ca
vern ; and Otho had time only to disengage
his plumed helm, and commit it to the deep,
ere a huge stone was rolled from the mouth
of a cave artfully, concealed by a projecting
angle of the rock. A flood of light instanta
neously burst forth, revealing a group of
men, variously attired, feasting round a table
hewn from the solid rock, which blazed with
goblets of precious metal, filled with the
sparkling juice of the grape.—In another
moment the Emperor was surrounded by
armed men, whose fierce and menacing ges
tures indicated that little mercy or forbear
ance was to be expected at their bands.
The Prince, accustomed to command a
turbulent and warlike people, bent not from
his native dignity in addressing the lawless
band before him. Courage could not res
cue him from his perilous situation ; but a
int of
in the
seek-
chattels of a rich uncle
recently defunct at New Amsterdam. The
ship in which Derrick had taken passage,
driven to the eastward of her proper track,
and becalmed, lay. so near the land, that he
was fain to go on shore in the yawl, and be
held for the first time a sample of the new
world. lie had scarcely disembarked,
when twenty or thirty young and half-tamed
Indians, lying concoaled from his view on
the sunny declivity of a sandy knoll,/hap
pened to let forth a broad horse-laugh (at
some of their own jokes doubtless, after the
manner of more civilized beings,) which so
startled his less adventurous comrades, who
had not yet landed,, that ^hey pushed off-
leaving poor Derick, utterly astounded, up
to his knees in sea weed and conch shells.
Recovering from his amazement, Derick
perceived himself deserted, and instinctive
ly delivered a most piercing yell of suppli
cation towards the treacherous boat’s crew,
now rowing furiously for the heavy bark
which rolled lazily upon 1 the drowsy deep
like a drowned fly in a bowl of porridge. At
the sound of th\s strange outcry, the savages
involuntarily sprang up, and beheld a round
squat figure waddling violently along the
beach, clad in a short blue coat half covered
with monstrous pearl buttons, long scarlet
vest parted at the nether extremity, small
clothes of brown velvet, and boots of uni
form circumference, similar to the leathern
buckets used by modern firemen. Both
arms were swinging 1 with prodigious gyra
tion, and at the end Of one appeared a hol
low hemisphere of drab-coloured felt, the
broad rim of which was made to vibrate to
and fro in desperate signification of terror
and despondency. From the rear of his
bare bead, protuberated a cylindrical mass
of hair resembling a huge carrot swathed
in a cake of rope-yarns—and amidst the con-
tortioit^.'Of the body to which it was attach
ed, this silicious appendage played up and
down like the pump-brake of a" foundering
West Indiamen.
Moved tit this grotesque spectacle, the
overjoyed barbarians cracked the air with
unruly disruptions of merriment, and abso
lutely whooped Avith ecstacy. They had
previously seen/ and been familiar with
some individuals qf the paler species of our
race; but the figure before them was a no
velty altogether uninaagined—an absurdity
which their constitutional gravity could not
possibly withstand. They looked again and
again at the rotund lump of humanity floun
dering amid the oozy recrement of a fast re-
eeding tide—and ns thev contrasted his
awkward struggles with their own agility,
his shapeless obesity of frame with their own
the un
bold and resolute carriag^^xnMPlikelv 1
to succeedfashion of his garments, the? k
lv ciirt«^'* c ^" Uu SUC1 men, than ;coward- ed and roared with renewed exertion., S
jwt*> ^plications or mean submission. Turn-
prolong
mine on such dishonourable terms, brave
Hcrmon. Never shall my enemies say,
that Otho of Germany fled like a coward,
leaving his friend to the mercy of the treach
erous foes who have brought his life and
honour into such fearful jeopardy.’
‘ My liege this is not a time to indulge in
chivalric sentiments. The fate of an em
pire depends upon your life. Mine is al
ready sped. Number me with the brave men
you have left to the crow and the vulture
on yonder ill-starred field, Hark !» he con
tinued, sinking from the tree which had
hitherto supported him, to earth, ‘ the foe is
on us ! 1 hear the trampling of steeds, and
the deep baying of the dogs, which rises on
the blast like the knell of death.’
The Emperor started, and listened, while
the sutviving steed snorted, pricked up his
rein.
* You are right; they are near—rise, and
fly! Darkness will no longer conceal us.—
See—the moon bursts forth.*
He paused in breathless suspense, but re
ceived no answer. ’ He touched the hand of
the knight, which lay extended on the
ground—the icy coldness chilled him! He
loosened the clasp 6f his visor, and lifted the
heavy steel casque from his head,
a misty atmosphere, the moon sh<
light \>n the pale brow and blood
of the knight. Otho gazed for
on the lifeless
his steed, aiA
a moment
)f his friend, sprang to
3 U gh thq forest with
i night was far advan-
iksh had been rising for
ILJ4U. A fF' l - r , 1
ing therefore, to'the foremost in foe group,
'whom, bv his preiid bearing and ‘fierce de
meanor, he concluded to be their leader, he
said—* Chance and my evil destiny have
thrown me into your power Crny rank- is no
ble ; aid me in rny present need, an'd I will
soamply-reward your services, thatTience-
forth you may abandon the lawless life .you
pursue.* •
The Pirate tauntingly an 3 weredZ-^j^jf-
thinks the fortune of an unhebrJ&fl knight
us poorly for exercisirig*the rites
wo
of hospitality ! What sum could you offer of
sufficient magnitude to tempi the rover to
forsake his traffic on the deep. The wealth
of nations is ours—we have bought, our free
dom on the waves with our blood, and
derive our treasures front the most remote
regions of the earths \
4 Pence, Theodoric !* exclaimed a. voice
from behind, which made Qlho start as a
tall martial figure emerged from tbe^avern,
‘ Is it thus,’ he continued, addressing his
comrade, * that you prove your boasted free
dom by playing the tyrant to a stranger,
whose misfortune it is to have fallen into our
hands ? Now, by St. Nicholas ! the patron
of the mariner, I find man is the same arbi
trary being on the throne, in the camp, or
on thp deep. Give him power- and he abu
ses the pterogative with which he is inves
ted.* During this speech Otho examined,
with an air of troubled interest, the dark and
intelligent countenance of foe outlaw. Dis
figure was lofty, well and strongly formed.
Though plainly attired in the coarse garb df
the seaman, he possessed a firmness of step,
a grandeur of deportment, indicating high
lineage, and early acquaintance with arms.
His complexion had suffered from the
scorching influence of the hotter climate and
constant exposure to weather ; but the fire
of genius pervaded his features, arid flashed
through the dark and piercingeye, winch
... ~ *. r*7"^ «j» ms • /. V , r* v *—‘b
ears, and shook impatiently his slackened Spoke,of deeds, boldly resolved, and fear-
rein. lessly executed. His brow was marked
with an expression of deep and settled me
lancholy, whose gloomy pojver had stolen
the glow of health from his cheek, and shed
its blight on the rich masses of raven hair,
which in foe tneredian of manhood, were al
ready niingled with silver. His counten
ance, once seen, could mT.; easily he forgotr
ten; and foe remembrance of its lineaments
recurred to the mind of the Emperor like a
troubled dream, recalling the calm sports of
boyhood, the rash and iruetuous carried of
youth, the fierce tyranny tbst had , marked
his entrance on manhood.— 4 It is only fancy,
or, he,too,would recognize nee,’ he exclaim
ed, to himself, ah the pirate, turning to him
said in a courteous tone-—‘ Sir you are wel
come to our rnspad cheer follow me.’
d next iveek.)
"if ^ VX*." Jl||
TROT THE NANTUCKET INQUIRER.
THE DUTCH EMIGRANT.
One hundred and eighty-seven years liar
since Derrick Von, Hqogen-
w . t . , v &ome
screamed in prolonged and hideous cachin-
nations; others cut uncouth so mersets
upon the turf,,or bounded hither and yon
with most antic and gymnastic extrava
gance ; in short, such a tribe of tom-atid-
jerry savages never, til^ now, figured in the
annals of comic barbarity.
At length, wearied wUh these roystering
diversions, in a more orderly temperament
thqy/Jpprq^g^tjie object of their mirth,
Aowabjost sulfocafed^with mire and trepi-
fdnti|m. Deeming their outrageous caper-
ings.the mere signals for his sacrifice, he
bewailed the luscious and tempting condi
tion of his carcass, fancied fire and faggots,
and'apprehended instant martyrdom. His
first act, as they drew nigh, was to dis
charge from his right hand the round-topped
hat aforesaid, which went scaling across the
smooth wave like a scared goslin in a fish
pond. He then planted his Doric legs bolt
upright in a ma£s of soft mud—above whose
surface poughf of .his person remained, but
visage, arms, arid abdomen. His visiters
halted upon the more solid strand : they
could have riddled his hide with seores of
javelins, or pommelled his pericranium to a
pumice with >aving stones ; but his belli
gerent atiitii le excited more of curiosity
than indignr ion. Tjjey wished him no
evil—and osr to eating suchan anitnal, they
would sooue by fardine upon lobsters and
pumpkins.
But Derrick wa^ed resolute, and began,
in bis despair, to spatter sundry handfuls of
filth upon and riround the copper-faced spcc-
tators—whereby they were not a little scan
dalized. Presently a sturdy youngster
threatened to advance; when Derrick,
losing all manner of philosophy, uttered a
tremendous High Dutch oatb, distorted hjs
countenance into its ugliest corrugatioris,
protruded the fronts of his jaws so as to re
semble the anterior edge of a hard-shelled
clam, and howled for. help in a tone of agony
rendered doubly dismal by its chromatic va
riations. Still, his principal assailant con
tinued to approximate, knd, coming, within
arm’s length, grappled] foe fat Hollander’s
queue that dangled so formidably over his
expanded shoulders. Immediately the rest
of the tribe rang?d themselves in single file
behind their leader, by dint of whose hold
upon Derrick’s cabbage-stalk,foey dragged
his unwieldiy corporation fairly above.higb-
water mark—Here foe exhausted victim
sunk intp a stale of torpor; and, while in
this condition, his uncivif conquerors, with
a sharp stone instrument, rudely sawed off
foe appurtenance hy\vhifeh they had extri
cated him, and bore away foe trophy in tri-
plexities, as the sequel may mani
Seeing them depart, his fel r
to ,
His red
ch like at
'esignate the
" ; ■-t;
1 iT« fl- ’
■ . ■■
Pi '■ .v"**'**'
and expeditiously they conveyed the body- a
upon four oars to the boat, and thence to
the ship. But Derick awoke not, until the
vessel, blessed with propitious gales, reach
ed the little settlement of New Amsterdam,
now the overgrown city of New York
wherein it hath become an object for Doc
tors and Colonels and Majors daily to put
forth large printed sheets ycleped news
papers.
However, Myheer \ on Hoogensperg' in
due‘course of time came to himself and to
his uncle’s cxecutorss. The iatter, on com
paring his appearance with the description
contained in the old gentleman’s bequest,
positively refused to admit bis claims. One
prominent accoutrement was missing! In
vain did the unfortunate Dutchman appeal
to his accompanying countrymen, for evi
dence that the identical club of hair, onw
abduced, actually belonged to his occiput’at
their departure from Rotterdam ; in vain
did they relate the story of its cruel excision,
for he could remember nothing thereof: in
vain did he pack off messengers, with bribes
and presents, to treat with the island sava
ges for the recovery of that instrument upon
which his fortunes depended: in vain he
swore, he sued in vain. The matter got
into law, and there it hung, as it were, by a
hair, term after term, until nature supplied
him with a new crop ; when he was enabled
to snap his fingers at the lawyers, take pos
session of an immense estate, establish a
distillery as the surest means of revenge
upon his tawny tormentors, marry, live forty
years, die without progeny, and lie down
among his ancestors in the granite sepul
chre of the Hpogenspergs. It may be ne
cessary to add, that the original brush in
question, was carefully preserved as an in
valuable relic by the Indians and their de
scendants through four entire generations—
when it was inhumed, together with numer
ous other treasures, by the side of the last
of the Mattekutts.
death ; find before he contd a-
her servants, all was over l”I con
jecture nothing ; I only relate the incident
as unequivocally waiter of fact; Lord Ross-
more was absolutely dying at the moment l
heard fos name pronounced. Let sceptics
draw their own conclusions ; perhaps natu
ral causes may be assigned ; but I am total
ly unequal to the task.*?
MUSICAL GHOST.
Sir Jonah Barrington, in his Memoirs,
vouches, in his own person, for the follow
ing remarkable story:—Lord Rossmore
was advanced in years, but I never heard of
his having had a single day’s indisposition.
He bore, in his green old age,the appearance
o robust health. During the viceroyalty
of Earl Hardwick, Lady Barrington, at a
drawing-room at Dublin Castle, met Lord
Rossmore. He had been making up one
of his weekly parties for Mount Kennedy,
to commence the next day, and had sent
down orders for every preparation to he
made. The Lord Lieutenant was to be of
the company. “ My little farmer,” said he
to Lady Barrington, addressing her by a pet
namq, “ when you go home, tell Sir Jonah
the un- that n^-fcaisirissg is to prevent him from
j bringing you dowfftO”di?ie wftVlne ‘to-’ra&ft-
row. I will have no ifs in the matter—so
tell him that come he must /” She promis
ed positively, and on her return informed
me of her engagement, to which I at once
agreed. We retired to our chamber about
twelve; and towards two in the morning I
was awakened by a sound of a very extra-
ordiriary nature. I listened : it occurred
first at foort intervals ; it resembled neither
a voice nor an instrument/; it was softer than
any voice, and wilder than any music, and
seemed to float in the air. ^ r I don’t know
wherefore, but my heart beat forcibly. The
sound became still more plaintive, till it al
most died away in the air ; when a sudden
change, as if excited by a pang, changed its
ione ; it seemed descending. I felt every
rierve tremble ; it was not a natural sound
nor cauld I make out the point from whence
it came. At length I awakened Lady Bar
rington, who heard as well as myself. She
suggestet|that. i/ inight be an iEolian harp;
but to that instrument it bore no similitude :
it was altogether a different character of
sound. *5Iy, wife at first appeared less af
fected thari I ; but subsequently she was
more so. We now went to a large window
in our bedroom, which looked directly upon
a small garden underneath ; the sound then
seemed obviously to ascend from a grass-
plot immediately belo.w our window. It con
tinued ; Lady Barrington requested that I
wouid call up her maid, which I did, and she
was evidently more affected than either of
us. The sounds tasted for more than half
an hour. At last, a deep, heavy, throbbing
sigh seemed to issue from the spot, and was
shortly succeeded by a sharp but low cry,
and by the distinct exclamation, thrice re
peated, of “ Rossmore—Rossmore—^Ross-
more!” 1 will not attempt to describe my
own feelings; indeed I cannot. The maid
fled in terror from the window, and it was
with difficulty I prevailed on lady Barring
ton to return to bed : in about a minute af-
teri the sound died gradually away, until all
Was silent. Lady Barrington who is not so
superstitious as I, attributed this circum
stance to a hundred different causes, > and
made ine promise that I would not mention
in a’
should be thereby rendered laughing stocks.
At length, wearied with speculates, we
fell into a sound slumber. About seven on the
ensuing morning, a strong rap at ray cham
ber door awakened me. The recollection- that said that, gi
of the past night’s adventure hished ' 1
ly upon my mind, and rendered me very un
fit to be'taken suddenly on aily subject. > It
was light; I went to foe door, when-
frithful servant, Lawler, exclaimfoe
other side, “ O Lord, Sir!” “ ( Wh
umph—© deed fraught with karro^jpg per- [matter r* |>wd I, hurriedly. “6, air !** eja
culated h«,* “ Lord Rosstnore’s footman was
oyagers
frofofoe „ ^
oat to ing from tlg|
running nest tlm dper, in great -ffifofej^and
told me in pasdin^msft ,jny lord, after cofo-
ad gone to bed in per
fect health^about half-after two
-this raormng^riVA man hearing a noise
in hiy master’s Vc^^be slept in foe same
ranflMftjwnt and found him in the
Translated from the French.
The Ladieb.—The critick of the fair sex
tell us they are vain, frivolous, ignorant,
coquetish, capricious, and what’not. Unjust
that we are ! it is the fable of the Lion and
the Man. But since the ladies have become
authors, they can lake their revenge, were
they not too gonerous for such a passion.
Though they have learned to paint, their*
sketches of man are gentle and kind.
But it the ladies were what surly misan
thropes call them, who is to blame ? Is it not
we who spoil—who corrupt—who mislead.
Is it surprising that a prettv woman should
be vain, when wo daily praise to her face
her charms, her taste, and her wit ? Gan ire
blame her vanity, when we tell her that no
thing can resist her attractions—that there
is nothing so barbarous which she cannot
soften,—nothing so elevated that she can
not subdue't When we tell her, that her
eyes are brighter than day,—that her form is
fairer than summer,—more refreshing than
spring,—that her lips are Vermillion^—that
her-skin combines the whiteness of the lily
with the carnation offoe rose ?
Do we censfrre a fine woman as frivolous,
when we unceasingly tell her, that no other
study becomes her but that, of varying her
pleasures ; that she requires no talent tut
for the arrangement of new parties, no
ideas beyond the thought of the afternoon’s
amusement? Can we biame her frivolitv
when we tell her that her hands were not
made to touch the needle, or to soil their
whiteness in domestic employments? Can
we blame her frivolity, when we tell her,
that the look of seriousness chases from her
cheek the bloom where rest the Loves and
the Graces ; that dull reflection clouds her
brow with care ; and that she who thinks,
sacrifices the smile that makes beauty charm,
and the gaiety that renders wit attractive ?
How can a pretty woman fail to be igno
rant, when the first lesson she is taught is
that beauty supersedes and dispenses with
every other quality ; that all she needs to
know, is that she is pretty ; that to be intel
ligent, is to be pedantic ; and that to be
more learned than one’s neighbour, is to in
cur the reproach of absurdity and affectation ?
Shall we blame her for being a coquette,
when the indiscriminate flattery of everv
naan teaches her that the homage of one is
as good as that of another ? It is the same
darts, the same flames, the same beaux, the
same coxcombs. The man of sense, when
he attempts to compliment, recommends the r
beau, since he condescends to do with
wardness, wlmt a monkey can do with grricei
With all she is a goddess, and to her all
men are equally mortals. How can she pre
fer, when there is no superiority; or be con
stant when there is no merit ?
Is she capricious ? Can she be otherwise,
when she hears that the universe must be
proud to wait her commands—that the ut-
most w ^ a l° ver, *t hopes is to\be the hum
blest of her slaves—that to fulfil the least of
her commands, is the highest ambition of
her adorers.
Aiyljare men so unjust as to censure the
idols foade by their own hands? Let us be
just; let us begin the work of reformation.
When men cen.se to flatter, women will
cease to deceive; ; when men are wise, wo
men will be wise to please. The ladies do
not force, foe taste of the men } they only
adapt themselves to it. They may corrupt,
and be corrupted ;—they may improve and
be improved.
Infidelity.—There are two kinds of infi
dels, whose respective impressions arise
from very different causes : one doubts ^cr
disbelieves, because he deems the evidence
insufficient, or at variance with enlightened
reason and well ascertained cause and ef- i
feet: these are honest and most generally
amiable and useful members of society.^—
The other doubts, or rather deprecktef the
matter in question, because it is hostile fo
his view's and inclinations; and a constant
wish that it should be untrue, finally per
suades him that it is so: these are‘com
monly unjust, depraved, or dislofote per
sons, frequently notorious hypocrites, and
scourges and oppressors of society.
Flattery. —A beggar man, on bis rounds
in a popular parish in Ayrshire, took the li
berty of rapping at the door of the best house
in it. It so happened, that the only domes
tic at home was a cook, who left her own
immediate business to open the door. See-
ihg that it was a beggar-man who ljad dis-
turbed, her, she very angrily bid him leave
it next day at Mount Kennedy, since we foe house and go and work. ** Oh,” said tho
gaberfunzioj “ I suppose ift matin, I maun;
but afore T gang, I oanna help saying;
that I Hae na seen sa bonny a fit (foot)
coif or cari ich.” v ‘‘‘Ye’re no fob first
* n/* said foe molded
the drippihg pqn, « mqny bao thoa*
nc—come in poor bodie, an’ I will-
/
;ie ye
A little gi
horn on the Amjn
orrut.thctjme/b
aslratl her fother i
twins.
h Good Wife,T-&
sermon on a lady, a|
' qualities, adde
her husband
r it, wi
t said that sh
day, taok po
a day or two
the King krerp
'acker ip a f
toning