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V.

WELL, with lantern and a big

ELL," cried Betty, coming out of her

stick, "ef that esn't Zacky as I'm alive! The pig, drinking hisself into a baste, wasting good money, and shaaming the blessed sun-moon I mean, shining down upon 'un as he lies there like a sot as he es. Get up, Zacky. Baint ee sheamed of yourself to be sitting thic shaape in the slottery road, like a moile who loves the night better nor the day? Come in, and go to bed, ef thee'st fit to get into a Christin bed." Whap en ma head," said Zacky, indistinctly.

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scat to jouds," said Zacky, more dolefully than

ever.

'Thee'st fallen down, and cracked_thee crown, like Jack and Jill," said Betty coolly. I've got someut in-doors to pomster thee up with. I'll paitch thee up braave, and put thee to bed, thee great gawk." Betty was as good as her word, she doctored Zacky's broken pate and put him to bed, refusing to hear a word of explanation till the morning.

When Zacky awoke, with the Midsummer's sun staring hotly into his eyes, Betty was already downstairs, and busy kicking the cat for having drunk up a drop of milk she had left on the table.

Betty!" screamed Zacky.

Sheant come, I tell ee," roared Betty, pursuing the cat with the broom. "Where's tha gowld-tha money in my pockets?" yelled Zacky.

Betty rushed upstairs broom in hand, and flung herself bodily upon Zacky. "Hould

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Hours passed on, and there was neither peace nor war between the belligerents. Nevertheless, the broth was very good at dinner, and so was the parsley pie that made its appearance afterwards. And Zacky's appetite, in spite of silence and a broken head, was evidently unimpaired. As the sun began to set, the old miner grew uneasy, and fidgeted about like a dog drawing near a bone which he does not dare to touch. At last he said:Betty, thee thinks I'm roadlin or toatleish about this here gowld. Now I caent go ento town myself, 'cause my head's bruk, and I shud be sheamed to be seen thic shaape and my pair too es tha laest pair by night, and I must get in coose to go up to Bâl, but of thee makes theeself fitly, and will go to tha gentleman-he as left tha burd, you know, and ax he to buy tha gowld, I'll let ee caal me a mazed Jerry-Patrick aal tha rest of my days ef ee doant give thee a good price for ut."

Without a word Betty put on her gowk, or sun-bonnet, a clean apron, and tidy shawl, then, turning to her husband, she said :

"I won't take aal the gould, Zacky, but jist a specimen like to show tha gentleman." Putting the stone in her pocket, Betty walked off in a wonderfully quiet mood.

Mazed," was all she said as she hurried across the moor.

On the steps of the doctor's-not the sour man's-house, and while her hand was just stretched forth towards the knocker, a little man with a red cap on his head accosted her politely, and asked the way to the bank. Betty ran down the steps to show him; and then, Cornish fashion, asked him where he came from, where he was going, what his business was at the bank, and whether he had a wife and children. The little man, being evidently Cornish himself, received all these questions as proofs of a complimentary and kindly interest, which greatly flattered him, and proceeded to answer with a profuse eloquence of questions in return. Each had got as far as their respective great-grandfathers in their family history, when the little man observed to Betty that she had a small speck of dust in her eye. Take un out, my son, do ee now, co," said Betty.

A company, or corps of miners working together, is called a pair. They are relieved every eight hours. Bal is Cornish for mine.

Any request from a lady enforced by that coaxing Cornish diminutive co is necessarily irresistible to a Cornishman. The little man sprang on the steps to reach the height of Betty's nose, and then politely flicked out the particle of dust from her eye, at the same time adroitly touching it with a small round leaf which he held in his hand. "So you are going to the doctor's for your good man," he said; and I'm going to the bank to sell some gold."

He pulled a parcel from his pocket, and showed the glittering contents to Betty.

"Ah!" she said, sighing, "it's a pleasure to see raal gould. My ould man es crazy enough to want me to go to the bank with some ould stoanes and straw. Look here!" She brought to light from a long pocket the small specimen which she had brought with her to show the doctor, as proof of Zacky's insanity, and lo! it was gold; pure, bright, beautiful gold. Betty could not speak for amazement.

"Come with me!" said the man, confidentially, "and I'll tell you what to do."

Now, I know if my tale were laid in London, or in any region round about that great centré of civilization, I should be bound by the laws of modern fiction to make the man rob Betty first, and cut her throat afterwards, or cut her throat first, and rob her afterwards, according to his private_taste in that line of business; but, happily, I am in the country; and in the lanes, fields, and villages of England I affirm all wayfarers and strangers are not robbers and scoundrels, though, of course, I do not presume to doubt the aforesaid fictions which assert them to be so elsewhere.

Now, whether it was the magic of the gold, or the fascination of the little man himself, I know not; but Betty without hesitation consented to give up her visit to the doctor, and accompany her new friend to his house, where she was to see his large family, and be regaled with tea, cake, cream, and apple pasty, after which they were to go together to the banker, who was no other than the sour man.

Betty was exceedingly sharp, and as the little man in his haste had only rubbed one eye, she was neither deceived nor astonished when she found herself among the pixies. Indeed, even at the doctor's door she had perceived it was necessary to wink in order to believe in the gold. She took care, however, not to offend the king by her clear-sightedness, but, putting her hand over the seeing eye, she managed to make a very good tea and to enjoy herself exceedingly. In this respect, perhaps, Betty only copied the politeness of modern society, which closes its seeing eye at a good many things when cakes and pippins are to be had for doing it.

Tea over, however, Betty thought it was time to go to business, so she nodded confidentially towards the king and winked. That potentate returned the compliment.

"I want to know," said Betty, "what's tha good of going to he,"-indicating the sour man by a grimace "ontil-" here she rubbed her eyes very hard and winked again.

Exactly," said the pixy. "We are going to do it, only we must wait till the moon rises." As the silver crescent peeped between the

trees of the fairy dell, the king gathered a long rush, and placed himself astride it; he ordered Betty to do the same: she obeyed, but not being particular as to head or tail, found herself seated the wrong way, when, by a few magical words the rushes were changed into fleet black steeds. They rose into the air with a fierce neigh of delight, and it was not without a thrill of fear that Betty saw herself raised above the narrow slip of land, lying between the two seas, at the extreme point of the western peninsula. As they descended nearer the earth, a wild, drear landscape rose towards them, widening as it gradually uprose to view, showing first Carn-Brea, with its ancient ruins and Druid stones; then here and there a white town, dotting the bleak hills, roughly strewn with granite, and lovely valleys lying between their shaggy sides, an image of beauty sheltered by strength; then quiet bays, whose silver sheen reflected their encircling cliffs, and showed like a passing picture the ripple of the rolling surf, as it kissed with soft lips the white untrodden sands, inaccessible to human foot. And onwards towards the ocean, the eye, enchanted, paused to mark the course of many a river, like silver threads, gliding silently between tall rocks and dipping trees, while, mingled with their murmur, like a leading melody came the rushing music of the sounding sea.

"It is beautiful!" said the king of the pixies, resting his horse on a cloud, to look and listen.

"It's pure gowld," said Betty, "and wuth tummals of money."

زر

The little pixy glanced at her with a smile, but frowned when he saw the worthless stone in her hand, which she was contemplating with a nod of satisfaction. He spurred his horse, and leaped across a chasm of blue air on to a ridge of grey and white clouds, along whose fleecy edge they galloped without the echo of a footfall: the soft sounds of the summer night, and the surging of the sea following like shadowy music. Then with a dash and a spring they gained a long swell of rolling mist, slowly traversing a silvery bay; and here the path was uneven, for the mist tossed and tumbled, and parted aside, making fearful chasms, through which the eye glanced down in fascinated fear to the sea below, sparkling with answering silver to the moon's ray, as it shot through the chasm and lighted up the rolling sides of the fleecy precipice.

"All is well," said the king, as he drew rein at last, and slowly descended towards a tall church-tower that loomed out of the mist, with many a loving little cloud clinging to its grey sides. On the grosser air near the earth, the fairy horses found sure footing, yet went slowly, as though picking their way above the roofs of the town, till the pixy stopped at one, over whose chimneys there hovered a thin inhospitable smoke.

"We have come a long step," said Betty, with wonder, "yet this town esn't fur from my cottage."

Such a man as this lives far from fairyand," answered the pixy.

Then they alighted, and tied up their horses on the roof.

"Hity-tity after me!" cried the king. Upon saying which, he dashed down the chimney in the shape of a little mouse.

"Hity-tity!" cried Betty, who followed pell-mell, with a tremendous whisk of her tail as she went down.

She found herself in a large, cold room, heavily furnished. On a big bed, in shape not unlike a caravan for wild beasts, with thick, showy curtains drawn round him, lay the sour man asleep, dreaming of bankruptcy and disaster. His face looked darker and sourer than when awake, and a heavy frown sat upon his brow and lowered over his eyes.

The little pixy jumped on the bed, and whisked his tail across the sleeper's nose, whereupon, he opened his eyes, but saw nothing, which is the case with many sour men when they lift their dull vision from the flag stones of a city, or the lines of a ledger.

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Quick!" cried the pixy, as from behind his ear he pulled a round dull leaf. Quick! do you rub one eye while I touch the other." Betty put up her fore-paw to her ear, found the leaf, and did as she was told. "Flies-fools-eight per cent.," said the sour man, dreaming.

At this moment a shiver stirred the air, a curious stillness, a creeping awe made itself felt. It was the instant before the dawn, when the earth like a watcher hushed and expectant awaits the coming of the sun.

The pixy-mouse jumped from the bed, scampered across the room, and reached the chimney. "Hity-tity after me," he cried, and disappeared up the black funnel in an instant.

Now, Betty had bad corns, for which reason she got off the bed rather gingerly; next she was busy taking a mental inventory of the furniture, and debating what particular article she would carry off with her-if she could; hence she was rather confused when she reached the chimney, and at first she sprang upward, saying nothing, but banged her head against the tongs, and fell back with a heartrending squeak. However, Betty rallied in a moment, and cried out manfully

"Mighty-flighty after me!"

It was of no use, down she came headlong, and lay sprawling on her back in the fender. Soon, however, she gathered herself up ruefully, and sat down upon her hind legs to reflect; but she beat her brains in vain, she could think of nothing but cheese and candles. "It is very odd," said Betty. "Dips and Cheshire," she cried.

But she only got as far as the top of the grate with this, where she sat disconsolate, and turned her head from left to right in hopeless perplexity. Meanwhile the dawn came creeping slowly in.

"Spitey-lighty!-Lard!" cried Betty, but it did not advance her a step.

The sun travelled higher in the heavens and darted a crimson ray through the window, which danced like a spirit on the ceiling.

"Sprity-whitey !-traps!" cried Betty. She did not stir one inch. "Mussey on me! she groaned, "this is wisht as wicks without grease."

Then she tried to think of her little cottage, her old husband, and poor Tommy dead and

Nobody.

She allers was oogly," said Zacky, "and she's staying out to-night for oogliness, nauthing else. Drat her emperance. I feel scratchy, I do." By which expression Zacky meant to say he was half crazy with rage.

Slowly he scrambled down from the old Druids' altar, stamping sturdily on the heathbells and perfumed mint, and trampling out the odour from the golden furze. Slowly he wended his way back to the cottage, with many a turn of the head across the star-lit track, and many a pause to listen, but no sound reached him save the surge of the sea as it called to the foaming river dashing on to its embrace. Grimly Zacky entered his cottage, and spitefully he shut the door, and fastened it-a rare thing in Cornwall; then he went supperless to bed.

It was rather queer in the morning to find nobody downstairs but the cat, queerer still to have to get his own breakfast, and queerest of all to find he didn't know how.

"The tay esn't fitty," said Zacky; "and the cat have eat the coald pasty."

Zacky sighed, and took a look at his gold to comfort himself.

"Et's wuth tummals of money," he said, in an unctuous voice.

Then he set off for the town for the double purpose of selling his gold and finding Betty, upon whose head he promised himself the

Australy," answered Zacky.
Who sent it to you?"

"My wife's fust coozen's husband's uncle, Roby Pengullem. He's out there digging, There's no such name as Roby."

a es.

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Re-ho-boam," said Zacky; we caal un Roby fur short. He's goat a mole 'pon hes left cheek jest onder hes eye ha has, and he can heft a hunderweight with hes click hand, he can. Dy's knaw un, sir?"

"No," said the sour man, sharply.

"He's commonly called Roby Click, on account of hes left hand being so strong like, and some do caal 'un 'Uncle Robe the gunner,' becaase tha mole do cock up his eye jist as ef ha was taking aim at a-a dab-chick," said Zacky, lifting his eyes innocently towards the

sour man.

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You'll give me the fellow's whole pedigree next, I suppose," observed the gentleman. Roby's hadage is fine and ancient," began Zachy.

But the sour man turned his back on him to weigh the gold. From the price he first deducted the half-crown Betty had mulcted him of the night before, then he made a reasonable charge for his fright and vexation at being outdone, after which he took his profits, and handed Zacky the balance.

"Have ee seen Betty?" asked Zacky, as he scrambled up the money from the counter. No answer.

"Ef so be as you've seen Betty-" but the sour man was deep in his ledger.

"No offence," said Zacky; "but have ee goat arra wife yourself, or childer?" No reply.

"Dreiving a pewer stem of traade here arr ee? Goat tha coostom of tha Bâls I reckonmaking good coose arr ee?"

"That's the way out," said the exasperated banker.

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"Well, I wish ee well, my son," said Zacky, retreating. Anything I can do for ee en tha town as I go uplong?

"There's the door!" roared the man of business.

Zacky got outside, then opened the door and put his head in

"Then you haben seen Betty, have ee?" "No! confound you!" cried the man. "Wish ce well," said Zacky, nodding with great friendliness as he finally walked off. "Made un answer, arter all," he said to himself with a chuckle.

After many fruitless attempts to recover his lost wife, and some little time spent at the Red Lion, Zacky went home with his spirits far heavier than he could have supposed possible, considering the weight in his pocket.

Days went on to weeks, weeks to months, and still no Betty.

It would be long to tell the disasters Zacky met with in his housekeeping, till it gradually dawned on his mind that it was positively cheaper to keep two than one.