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streams over her trembling hauds. Useless she every year renewed his funeral ceremonies. and too tardy care! Adonis is no more! His lu after times the inhabitants of Syria and of brilliant eyes are extinguished, his forehead Greece adopted these annual feasts; the first pale, his vermeil lips gradually changing their day every one appeared covered with mourncolour, resemble a faded violet. In vain does
ful garments, tearing their hair, and beating the wretched Venus with difficulty raise that their breasts while they wept the death of motionless body, press it in her arms, support Adonis ; the next day they celebrated with his heart against hers, touch with her glowing joy bis resurrection and apotbeosis. mouth those dying lips, and seek to reanimale Having now rendered the last duties to her him with her divine warmth: her dear Adonis | lover, Cypris thought of her own wounds. no longer, feels, and it is a mass of ice which While flying to the succour of Adouis she had rests against her bosom. At once a murtal neither felt the puncture of the rocks, nor coldness scizes the Guddess; she sbudders, the thorns of the thickels; the sharp roserecoils, and falls back invoking death.
bushes were tinged with her blood, several Detesting an immortality which she could drops sprinkled the roses themselves; and not partake with her lover, the unbappy that flower which had till then been of snowy Cypris sought to reanimate at least some part whiteness, preserved ever after the colour of of him. She collected the blood which yet the blood of the Goddess. flowed from his wound, and from its faint
Thus I, my Emilia, who never obtain any warmth she raised the flower avemarie. Sweet | other favour than that of bring permitted now and tender flower! which shines in the morne
and then to present you with one of those ing and at night loses its lustre, emblem of flowers, in seeing it bloom upou your heart I life, you present to us in one day the fugitive gaze, and think I see the blood of Venus re. image of youth and joy!
turning to its source. After this transformation Venus erected a
(To be continued.) temple on this spot to her dear Adonis. There
OAKWOOD HOUSE.--AN ORIGINAL NOVEL.
(Continued from Vol. IV. Page 299.)
one of these Leathes water started up, about TQ MISS FREEMAN, OAKWOOD.
three miles in length, but almost divided Milthrop, July 3, 1907.
in two. We quilted Keswick for Ambleside, from At the Cherry Tree, at Wythburn, we which it is distant sixteen miles, early in the stopped to breakfast, and desired to have cof. morning. The boasted view from Castrigg, i fee immediately. After waiting half an hour, the hill above Keswick, I thought inferior to I went into the kitchen, and found a slice of that from Castlet. But it is the first which bread toasting itself by the fire. It entered the strikes strangers, who generally approach parlour soon after, exbibiting a stripe of from that side; and I believe they are right. black in the middle, and one of white on each From Ambleside we should have taken Kes
side, the breadth of the bars. Its texture was wick first, and have returned by Ullswater. so solid as to be proof against the butter, Our road now lay through a narrow dale, which was reduced to an oil, and covered the with Skiddaw behind; and when we lost plate. This was accompanied by tbree piots it, we opened on Helveylin, which appears of water made muddy, under the denomina. to me the most stupendous mountaiu of the tion of coffee, which James, who was bebind country. The dale became beautiful. Rocks, \| the scenes, told us afterwards, was made by woods, and steep hills rose out of it, and throwing a very small quan:ity of coffee into varied with every turn of the road. Behind a large tea-kettle. We thought we had mis.
taken our inn, and expressed our doubts to its accompaniments surpass all I ever saw. Bolder mistress ; but she assured os, her's was the rocks, indeed, I have seen ; trees so naturally bouse frequented by the quality; and we were and beautifully disposed, never. convinced of it, when we found she charged We were couducted out of the park the way the same for our breakfast that we should have we entered –“But,” said I, to our guide, paid at the first inns in England.
“may not we see the small cascade?" For I We had now an ascent of a mile and a half
was too learned not to know all we had to to Dunmail Raise; the top of a pass in the expect. He made no answer, but opened anmountains, where Dunmail, the last King other door in the wall, which led us into a of Cumberland, who was slain in the tenth thick wood, almost excluding day.light. I did century, lies buried under a grass-grown heap | not think it possible for trees to have spread of stones. The wall which divides the coun
so deep a gloom. Emerging from this, we ties of Cumberland and Westmoreland runs passed an open lawn, and entered another over the centre. The descent is steeper on
dark embowering shade. Here our guide the Westmoreland side, and at the bottom opened the door of a mean looking building, lies the beautiful little lake of Grassmere. || and, though I knew what it was to offer to Rydal water succeeds it, yet smaller; but it our view, I stood motionless when I entered bas some charming little islands, decorated | it. Neither description or fancy could paint with wood of sature's own planting. I could any thing so beautiful. - Magic alone seemed kave wished its owner had taken the pains to equal to the effect. How, then, can I convey remove the weeds, which shoot above the sur an idea of it to you? I can but say that we face of the water.
looked through a window, without either Our road from Keswick to Ambleside, after frame or glass, and saw, at a few yards dishaving ascended Castrigg, has been a con- tance, the water-fall, environed by trees, tinued defile, between two ranges of moun wbich shut out heaven above, and earth tains, divided across by Dunmail Raise. The
Over the top is thrown a bridge that enterprising hand of man seems to have form is less picturesque than it bas been; since ed three roads over different passes in the humanity has added parapet walls ; but if I chain of mountains which rise in Cumberland had not been told the circunstance, I should and Westmorelond. The western is this, not bave imagined it could be more so tban it which is not very difficult of access. The li is. A servant riding over it on a dark night, middle is Kirkstone, which, I believe, till offel!, with his borse, into the pool of the caslate, was considered as impassible. The eastern
cade below. They had neither of them any is the great road over Sbap Fells, which I
bunes broken, and though much burt, they have not seen. The lakes which occupy the both recovered; but parapet walls were imme. foot of these passes seem proportioned to the diately raised on the bridge, to prevent the height of these passes themselves. The large possibility of such an accident in future. ones of Winander Mere and Uliswater lie on There are trout in the pool, and one may fish each side the lofty Kirkstone; the smaller ones out of the window ; but a party of Lakers, a of Grassmere and Leathes water on each side few weeks ago, did much better. They dised Duymail Raise.
in this enchanting retreat, and the poor trout In the cool of the evening we walked back dined with them. a mile and a half to Rydal, and, entering a Our road now lay by Kendal and Burton, door in the park-wall, had half a mile of steep to Lancaster; but not choosing to go tbe beaten ascent to the water-fall. The proprietor has track,
we yesterday morning crossed the had the discretion to let his place alone, I head of Winander Mere, and breakfasted at wisely supposing he could not mend it. Ex the little town of Hawkeshead, five miles from cept the necessary accommodation of a foot Ambleside. Before we reached it we had a path, bis band does not appear in it. It would charming view of the vale in which it stands, be ivjastice to judge of the fall in this dry including Esthwaite water, about two iniles season, which has emptied Lowdoor ; but the in length. From Hawkesbead our road lay on
the border of the water; and, on quitting the mosses or rocks; but the finest verdure avd vale, we passed through light woods, and by the noblest trees. The scenery about the gentlemen's houses, till we came into the bridge is uncommonly beautiful. Leveus woods which skirt Winander Mere, of which we
ve Park is the seat of the Earl of Suffolk. now and then caught a glance. At vine miles We did not arrive at Milthrop till late last from Hawkeshead, we arrived again at Newly night, and we shall not leave it till evening, Bridge, having made the circuit of the banks on account of the heat. Carlmel, Hawkes. of Winander Mere.
head, and Milthrop please me much. Tbree From Newly Bridge, I chose rather to en- | pleasant, poor, and quiet towns, that do not counter rocks I did not know, than sands Iaitogether afford one post-chaise. There is did; and we came fourteen miles to Milibrop, | only one inn in each, and that rather mean; over scars and mosses almost frightful. After but the people are civil, the provisions good, a long and gradual ascent, we found our and the charges so moderate, that one would selves on the top of a bill called Tawtop. not think the same country supplied the food Possibly, if the orthography adbered to the which furnishes the neighbouring inns on the original meaning, it might be Tall-top. From great roads. hence we looked over a turbury below, to I was sitting to-day, after dinner, with MilWitherslack Scar, u bich rose beyond; so des. | lichamp, when, bis shirt-bosom being a little titute of verdure, that at the first glance open, I espied a black ribband. Millichamp took the ash-coloured rock for “ Millichamp," said I, “what have you ploughed fields. The descent from Tawtop hanging to that ribband?" was abont half a mile, steeper than Kirkstone, He coloured, and replied, “A remembrance steeper than any thing I ever saw, except the of Margaret.” old Welsh road I mentioned before. I felt the “A picture?" same sensation here as there; fear least the
" No." horses should nol be able to keep on four A lock of hair?" legs, as they walked slowly over such unequal ground. You may be assured we walk « What then?” ed too,
“I will tell you,” be answered; “ because you Having crossd the vale, a mixture of rock will not laugh at me; but I should be afraid 10 aud peat, we ascended Witherslack Scar, as tell any other person." high as it is cultivated, and then went along He then drew from his bosom a bit of folded its side, leaving the enormous ughed rocks | writing paper, which contained-what ?-a above. To this Scar succeeded one still || darn in a piece of diaper, in which the threads higher, called Whitbarrow Scar, the rocky were as exactly laid as they had been at first summit of which had exactly the appearance by the shuttle of the weaver. I contradicted of a ruined castle. As I looked up, I fancied his good opinion of me; for I could not help I could distinguish walls and towers. Be- || laughing, and exclaiming, “ What a remem. low us was Foulshaw Moss, with our road, || brance! and by her own hand!" which is called the Long Causeway, running “ You may laugb," said Millichamp;“ but a across it, like a white thread ; and beyond this picture would only bave reminded me of my a better country. The Moss affords a pas- | Margaret's beauty; a lock of hair would only sage to two small rivers, which join the Kent have attached my ideas to her person; this is a little farther down ; and as nature, in con an emblem of her virtues. This, as I will plaisance to these, has given them a valley as prove to you, proclaims ber affection, in-level as their own waters, she has made her- || dustry, modesty, and talents. If she had not self amends, by raising a barrier of huge rocky | loved me, she would not have darned my fells on one side, and not very small rocks on night.cap. if she had not been industrious, the o:her. At Levens Bridge we crossed the she would not have darned it. And if she had Kent, and got into another world. No more not been modest, she would have told me she
had done it. And if she had not been ingeni. in it for her sake; but when it came from ous and correct, she could not have done it so washing, it was meuded again; thougb not so well."
neatly as before. And I believe it was done in “And so, as a proof of your Margaret's vir. a coarser manner that the hand of the worktues, you cut it out of your viglit-cap?” woman might not be suspected.” “I did ; and determined to wear the hole
(To be continued.)
STORIES OF SEVEN DAYS.
(Continued from Vol. IV. Page 302.)
you are the
TALE VI.THE BOX ON THE EAR. taken apartments from her, and who was, in The sixth evening the Baroness called
her opinion, a perfect Adonis. upon Monsieur De Versenay.
Wben she had ran berself out of breath, I “I must frankly tell you, my friends," cried
ventured to ask after my dinner, which she be,“ that the most interesting event of my life
was hurrying away to order, but she returned was occasioned by my giving a man with whom
to assure me, that the new-comer was such a I did not feel offended, a box on the ear.”
sweet modest young man, that it did her heart “Truly," said the Baroness,
good to see how prettily be blushed. last person whom I should suspect of such an
Confound his blushes and your loquacity exploit; for your temper has always appeared
100, thought I, when I sat down to my dinner, to me remarkably placid."
which was so completely spoiled, that huugry “ Why,” replied he, “even my enemies
as I was I could not eat it, and I sallied out in would not, I believe, give me the character of ! very is humour; a couple of hours passed at a quarrelsome fellow; but I will basten to ex. the theatre restored me to myself; and on my plain to you this seeming enigma.”.
return I accepted the invitation of my hostess When I was about twenty-five, the death of to sup with her. my father gave me possession of a small inde. Our new inmate was of the party; I had pendence, wbicb, as I was naturally of a grave supposed that I should see a raw provincial, and studious turn, was sufficient for my wants with a glow of rude health, and an awkward and wishes. With all my gravity, however, I simplieity of manner, and I was not a little was disposed to see a little of the world; and I surprised to find that I had been totally mis. left Piccardy, where I had hitherto resided, taken in my conjectures ; he was in reality the with an intention of passing some months at handsomest youth I had
though it was evident that he was a total I hired apartments in the house of a gentle stranger to the world, yet there was a natural man who was a professor of languages; 1 elegance in his manners, that was perhaps foued my bost a pleasant and intelligent man, more pleasing than the most polished address; and as I did not go very much into public, I || half an hour's conversation convinced me that passed some part of my time with him and his he was possessed of a lively wit, and when at a wife, who was a good. humoured, good-na late hour we retired to our separate apart. tured woman, with only one great fault, and ments, I was almost as much pleased with ibat was—a qever-ceasing tongue !
bim as my hostess had been. One day, when I had returned as usual to A little time made Simours (for that was his my dinner, Madame St. Franc, my liostess, en name) and myself very intimate, and never trapped me in my way up stairs, and though surely were two people of such opposite temI was excessively hungry, I was compelled to pers, so partial to each other; Simours was stop to listen to her account of a new lodger, a naturally of the gayest and most vivaci. gentleman from the country, who had just ous disposition, he had also an astonishing
quickness, and versatility of talent, and he con is so, frankly tell me, and I will trifle with her versed upon most subjects in a way that would ny more.” have persuaded you he knew perfectly what he “I swear to thee, my dear De Versenay," was talking about; yet that was far from being cried he, “ that I have not the least inclinathe case, for with great quickness he had no tion for the girl; but for her peace and your solidity, and between the natural indolence of honour's sake, I wish you would promise me his temper, and his aversion to severe scolastic to drop the very pointed attentions which you pursuits, he was far from being learned; but he rallied his own ignorance on some sub As I was fully sensible that Simours was jects with so much grace and vivacity, and right, I readily gave him the promise which he in the lighter branches of literature, displayed required, and nearly a week had elapsed withso much taste and talent, that he was alto out my seeing Nina ; when one evening as I gether the pleasantest companion that I had was sauntering past her door, I perceived ever met with ; in short, we soon became the Simours come out of it. Nina attended him modern Pylades and Orestes, when an event to it, and he stopped a moment." Good happened that threatened to burst the bonds night, my dear little Nina,” said he, taking of friendship between us.
her band._“God bless you, my dear CheThere was a pretty young milliner lived in valier,” replied she; “ do not forget to let our neighbourhood, with whom I had con see you to-morrow night."-" Depend trived to make an acquaintance by purchasing upon me,” cried he; and with a shake of the some trifles from her; I had at first only in hand they parted. tended a little harmless Alirtation, but by de.
“ Is this well, Simours," cried I, stepping grees I grew partial to the girl, whom ] up to him indignantly, to treat your friend thought Simours seemed to look upon with so disingenuously; you have deceived me, and an eye of preference, and I rallied bim about if I thought it worth my while, I would insist her.
upon satisfaction." “I believe Nina is a good and prudent “And you shall have it instantly," cried he; girl," said he ; “ and you may be assured that “I am about to bestow Nina in marriage." I shall never render her otherwise; and now, “ You! "repeated I, incredulously. my friend, as you bave mentioned the subject, “ Yes, I,” cried he;" she has been for some may I ask what are your intentions towards time beloved by a young man, wbo was only her?"-I hardly knew how to reply; 1 bad, deterred from soliciting her hand because he however, no settled purpose of seduction, had it not in his power to support her; I have, and I said so.
thaok Heaven, both the will and the power “ And do you then,” replied he, with se to render them both happy, and in a week verity, “think, that because you do not mean Nina gives her hand to her lover." to rob ibis girl of her chastity, that you act “ But why was this concealed from me: " honourably in paying her attentions, which said I. inay, by gaining her heart, render her un.
“ I never meant to conceal it from you," happy for life?”
replied be; “ for it is only to-night that le “ Hey.day, my dear little Mentor,” cried I,
have settled the matter, and I meant to have laughing, “ who the deuce would expect a ser informed you of it as soon as I had reached mon from you; it is true I like the girl, ber home." person pleases, and her conversation amuses « Well," cried I, “the young couple have me, but I am not such a coxcomb as to inna my best wishes, and they shall have something gine that because I trifle and talk nonsense more." to her, she must of course fall in love with "No, De Verseuay," said he, “ I can do all me; no, no, my friend, the hearts of women that is necessary for them ; aud surely to all are not
so very vulnerable, believe me; the purposes to which wealth can be applied, but come, Simours, I more that half suspect there is not one so delightful as that of ren. that you take a tender interest for Niva; if it dering two faithful lovers happy."