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courts, where also he was immediately
MISCELLANIES. surrounded by the persons there assembled.
Finding himself in the midst of such Mrs. Jameson, in speaking of Mrs. a crowd, he said to them in an elevated Siddons, relates the following anecdote voice:
in illustration :--Once, when I was con“ Gentlemen, 1 was indeed the versing with a celebrated German critic, licentiate Vidriera, but I am not such as and he was describing the person of I was; I am now the licentiate Rueda. Madam Schirmer, after floundering in a Misfortune, to which we are all liable; sea of English epithets, none of which deprived me, by heaven's permission, of conveyed bis meaning, he at length expart of my reason, which God's mercy claimed with enthusiasm, "Madame, her has now restored to me. By the things eye is perforating.” which it is said that I uttered while
GIPSIES. insane, you may judge what I am capable In England they are still pretty numerof, now I am restored to reason. I took ous, but are found only in distant places, my degree of laws. at Salamanca, where seldom coming into the towns excepting I studied in poverty, and where I was in small companies of two or three per-' placed the second on the list of graduates; sons. - In Germany, Sweden and Denfrom which you may infer that I owe my mark, they have become rare, as also in degree more to merit than to favour. . í Switzerlarid and the Low Countries. In am come here to this busy capital, to gain Italy their óumbers are diminished. In my livelihood by präctising as an advocate. Spain it is said there are fifty or sixty But if you will not leave me alone, I thousand of them. In Transylvania shall only gain my death. . For, God's they are most numerous; for in a popusake, do not persecute me, and make me lation of one million seven hundred thoulose that sustenance now I am sane which sand souls, there are reckoned one hunI gained while I was a lunatic. What dred and four thousand gipsies. We do you used to ask me in the streets, ask not exaggerate in estimating the Tzenme now at my house, and you will find garian or gipsy population of Europe that he who answered you well without at nearly a million; in Africa four hun. premeditation, will answer you better dred thousand; in India one million five with it.”
hundred thousand, and about two milThey all listened to him, and some of lions in all the rest of Asia-for except them left him, as he desired; so that he in Asiatic Russia, China, Siam, and returned to his lodgings with a rather Japan, they are everywhere to be found. smaller attendance than he had come. Hence we may deem the total population He went the next day, and was followed to be five millions. in the same manner; whereupon he made another appeal, which was equally un- The better opinion among naturalists availing.
seems to be at present, that wild dogs He was losing much and gaining never bark. Gardner, in his “ Music of nothing; and finding that there was no Nature,” says, that “in a state of nature possibility of getting his bread as an they only whine, howl, and growl;" and advocate, he determined to quit the that the explosive noise called barking, capital and go to Flanders, there to avail is only found among those which are himself of the strength of his arm, as he domesticated.” Sonnini speaks of the was prevented from using that of his shepherds’ dogs in the wilds of Egypt, intellect.
as not having the faculty. Columbus He departed accordingly;-bidding found the dogs, which he had previously adieu to the capital, in the bitterness of carried to America, to have lost their his heart, as “the place which nourished propensity to barking; and all the travelthe hopes of the forward pretender, and lers in Australia unite in saying, that blasted those of modest merit; which the native dogs of that region exhibit pampered in luxury the shameless buf- the same peculiarity. The ancients were foon, and left the blushing man of sense aware of this circumstance; Isaiah com-to starve.”
pares the blind watchmen of Israel, to With this farewell he set off towards these animals, “they are dumb, they Flanders; where he acquired as grea cannot bark.” While on the contrary, reputation in the military profession, as David compares the noise of his enemies he had attained in that of letters; serving to the dogs round about the city. Hence there in company with his old friend the barking of a dog is an acquired captain Valdivia, and dying renowned as faculty—an effort to speak, which he dean expert and valiant soldier.
rives from associating with man.
THE VOICE OF DOGS.
OF FICTION, POETRY, HISTORY, AND GENERAL LITERATURE.
THE RECOVERED TREASURE. “ Alas, it is too true!" replied the AN OLD ENGLISH LEGEND.
youth. “I am poor indeed; but I covet (For the Parterre).
not your gold, Master Skelton; give me
but your sweet daughter, and" CụAP. I.
“ And thou wilt make her a beggar, “ Thou has come on a bootless errand, like a mad boy as thou art," interrupted Master Walter ;" get thee home, and the farmer : “ Away with thee, or thou stick close to the plough; thou may'st wilt make me forget myself. one day become rich; but I cannot en- “ Be not angry, good Master Skelton: tertain thy suit now.”
consider my suit, and let me not die in Thus spoke Ralph Skelton, the rich despair, as I most surely shall an' you yeoman of Wyvill's-Croft, to a rustic refuse me.” but handsome youth, who stood with his “ Now, out upon thee for most cap in his hand, in an attitude of pro- graceless coistrel !” cried the old man, found deference.
stamping with rage at the youth's imporThe words of the farmer fell on the tunity. “ Dost thou think I have reyouth's ear like a sentence of excommu- fused Alan the miller, and Master nication. He fumbled his thrum cap, William thè reeve, and Jenkin the rich and shuffled his feet about, while he es- mercer at the cross, to take up with a sayed in vain to stammer a reply. The son-in-law without a noble in his pouch? farmer observed his uneasiness, and con- Get thee gone, boy, or by St. Bridget, tinued.
Dick the shepherd shall try if there be Pr'ythee teaze me not again with thy virtue in a crab-tree staff." silly requests. It becomes not the daugh- Young. Walter blushed with resentter of Ralph Skelton to wed a poor boyment at this menace'; but his love for who can scarcely purchase a mass for his the old man's daughter forbad a harsh father's soul!"
“ You treat me uncourteously,” said he had none of these, and was therefore he mournfully. “I wot not that my thoroughly miserable. Meanwhile the father's ancient comrade would speak storm increased, and the rain descended thus to his son. Who bore you on his in torrents; the wind howled, and shook back out of the press at Agincourt, the humble dwelling, and the doors sir, when hard blows were gotten clattered on their hinges, as if beating cheaply?"
time to the music of the blast without “Thy father, truly, Walter,” said the it was a sad night for the traveller. old man, in a much milder tone; "the “Heyday!” cried the old dame, “'t is service was both kind and timely; but a fearful night—they say the devil rides what boots it now? Am I to doom my upon the blast in such storms, and the daughter to
witches go to sea in their sieves." “ You will not doom her, sir," inter- “Ay, marry, dear mother,” said rupted the youth, eagerly catching at Walter, raising his head despondingly, the old man's softened tone. “ Ask her “methinks the devil is abroad to-night: an' I have not her heart, Master Skelton: if he be looking for an usurer and a churl, ask her that."
he will find one eftsoones." Again the farmer's face flushed with “Hush!” said the dame, in a whisper, anger.
“it's not for poor folk like us to say who “ She is a perverse and disobedient is Satan's chosen. Father John says he quean,” cried he wrathfully; "and thou will sometimes take strange fancies, and hast taught her a bad lesson. Begone, fondle the needy, whom he will lure with sirrah! out o' my house, or I'll take a many---ha! Jesu, what's that !” course with thee!"
The old lady's sage reflections were Master Skelton turned on his heel, suddenly cut short by the sound of footand quitted the room, leaving the youth steps near the door, at which, the next in a state of mind which novelists say, moment, there was a loud knocking. 'may be better imagined than described.' Walter Beveridge left the house in
CHAP. II. high dudgeon; offended by Skelton's harsh manner, and grieved to the heart Dame Beveridge was of opinion that it at his unfeeling refusal to admit him as was not exactly safe to open the door; a suitor to his daughter. He mounted but her son thought differently, and his little rough coated pony, and urging though by no means an undutiful child, it to its utmost speed, rode homeward to he was in no humour to listen to materunbosom his grief to his aged mother. nal remonstrance. As he galloped down the road, the sigh- “ Who knocks?” demanded Walter, ing of the wind among the trees, and rising quickly and stepping to the door. the hasty Aight of the rooks to the “ A poor travel-worn man,” answered neighbouring forest, gave warning of the a voice from without. coming storm. Heavy drops began to “What are ye?" was the next quespatter down as he reached his humble tion. dwelling, and night drew on apace. “ A pedlar, good master.”
Walter gave an account to his mother “ Whence come ye?” of his interview with the rich yeoman,
“ From the town. the conclusion of which we have at- “ Then why did ye not try the Miller?" tempted to describe; and after listening “ The stream is swelled by the rain, and to sundry wise sawsandapopthegms which has broken down the mill dam : he is old ladies generally keep “cut and dry" wroth with the mishap, and would not for such like occasions, sat himself down take me in,” replied the stranger. in the chimney corner, to watch the “He is a churl," murmured Walter, dying embers of the fire, and ruminate opening the door ; "come in, friend,on his hard destiny.
thou art poor, I ween, and men fly thee.” In those rude days reading was not “ Ay, marry, my worthy master,” said the evening pastime of men in his sphere, the stranger, as he entered, “even as they and he had therefore ample room for would a leper-poverty is like a sore: it his melancholy, with nothing to divert is troublesome to him that hath it, and it. Had he lived in our liberal and en- unsightly to his friends." lightened age, he might have sought and • Excellent," said Walter; “thy wit, found consolation in “ Macgowan's Dia- old sir, is as quick as thine hearing, for logues of Devils,” or “Hervey's Medi. I wot not that my last words were spoken tations,” or “Drelincourt,” or perhaps aloud.” a soporific in some “sacred" poem ; but The pedlar heeded not this remark. He entered; and setting down his pack, tered the poor youth, and with a heavy drew off his hood, from which he wrung sigh he again relapsed into sleep. the wet. He was an old man, with hair We must now leave the humble cotand beard of silver whiteness. His com- tage of Walter Beveridge, and lead the plexion was fair, and his eyes sparkled reader to the substantial dwelling of with a singular brightness for a man of Master Skelton. About an hour after his apparent age.
the departure of his would-be son-in-law, “ I sought shelter for the night at the a pedlar arrived and entreated shelter for goodly house where the three roads meet,' the night. The wealthy yeoman was said the old man; “but they told me to informed of his request ; but he had no be gone, and cursed me for my insolency bowels for the poor. as they called it.”
“ Bid him be gone,” cried he in a huff, Walter started at the mention of the we cannot lodge such carrion as he.” “goodly house," for it was master Skel- “ A murrain on thy master !” growled ton's.
the pedlar, as a servant slammed the “ Thy betters have no kindlier greet- outer gate in his face. He proceeded on ing there, father,” said he; “but come, his way; and faint, weary, and drenched sit down, and we will see where we can with rain, arrived at the dwelling of bestow thee to-night.'
Walter Beveridge, where, as has been Food and drink were offered to the old already shewn, he met with a hospitable man, but he declined to partake of either, reception. and begged that he might be shewn to Master Skelton sat by his cheerful fire, his resting place; a request which was listening to the howling of the storm complied with by Walter, notwithstand without: on his table stood a tankard of ing the whispers of his mother, who pro- warm ale, in which swam a roasted crab. tested that she did not like the pedlar's His pretty daughter sat near him, not looks—an opinion which was certainly not reading a fashionable novel, but (alas ! weakened by Walter's dog, who kept that we should be obliged to confess it) sniffing at the stranger's heels, and occa- making herself a new kirtle. Her father, sionally uttering a low growl of dissatis- by the aid of his ten digits, was reckoning faction. These expressions of dislike did his last year's profits, and anticipating not escape the notice of the old man.
those to come.
While thus occupied, “ Good mistress," said he, “ye have his ear caught the sound of horses' hoofs, no need to fear: I am a poor weak old and the next moment a loud voice from man: fifty years have I led a pedlar's life, without criedbut never coveted the goods of another. “ What ho! within there! a traveller Behold this pack : it holds some things would fain find shelter from the storm.” of value-all my worldly wealth ; place “ Run Will, and see who calls,”it in your strong room until to-morrow.” said Master Skelton--" if he be of good
Walter felt no inclination to receive condition, let him enter ; but we keep this pledge for the pedlar's honesty ; but no hostelry for hedge beggars"-He his mother determined to take the old had scarcely uttered this charitable senman at his word, and locked up the pack timent, when a' tall figure muffled in a in her store room. An hour afterwards large cloak dripping with wet, entered the cottage was in darkness and silence, the room. except the snoring of its inmates, and the Master Skelton was on his legs in a shrill chirping of the crickets.
moment, and assisted the stranger to Young Walter slept, for he was weary; divest himself of his cloak. He then but his slumbers were disturbed by strange gave up his own chair to his guest, and dreams. First he saw a train of well- ordered refreshment to be brought in. dressed people escorting a newly-married But the stranger ate nothing; he howcouple to their home: he looked, and lo! ever intimated his wish to pass the night the bride was gruff master Skelton's under the yeoman's roof; and after lovely daughter Emma, and the bride- chatting familiarly for a short time with groom, his hated rival, the crooked- his entertainer, and paying a few words backed Reeve!
of compliment to the pretty Emma, he Again he dreamt ; and this time he requested that he might be shewn to his beheld a spacious hall filled with a gay chamber.” company. Richly-clad couples were “ He is passing handsome !” sighed footing it merrily to the sound of the lute Emma, as the comely stranger quitted and rebeck: he awoke, and found his the room with her father-"He is not homely pillow wet with tears !
unlike my poor Walter, though someThe Blessed Virgin shield me,” mut- what taller, and with a prouder bearing.
Ah me! that face has doubtless made had recovered his senses, the first rays many hearts flutter."
of the morning sun had lit up the horn It had indeed somewhat disturbed her windows of the chamber, and the birds own; but her love was plighted to Wal- were chirping gaily on the house top. ter: manly beauty is more puissant He arose from the floor and looked wildwith women whose spring is almost ly around him—the chamber was empty, merged in summer ; and this your hand and the bed had not been pressed! Was some coxcomb well knows.
it a dream then? Had he no guest on Master Skelton conducted his guest the preceding evening? He hurried to to the best chamber ; when the latter un- his own room pale and trembling, and buckling the belt with which he was examined his iron-bound chest. The belt, girded, placed it in the yeoman's hands, that fatal bait, was not there, but in its and besought him to put it in a place of place lay a halter ! He gnashed his teeth safety.
with rage, tore his beard, and howled “ Give you good-night, Sir,”, said like a maniac, until his still slumbering the old man as he closed the door, and household were roused from their beds hurried to his own chamber. Here the and ran affrighted to his assistance. belt was subjected to a strict scrutiny; but it was fastened by cunningly con
CHAP. IIl. trived springs, and Skelton could only guess at its contents.
Blithely sounded the notes of early birds. Emma of course dreamt of her lover The sparrow's incessant chirping minthat night; but her father's slumbers gled with the sweet guttural trill of the were broken and disturbed by very swallow, and the “cock's shrill clarion” different visions. He thought of the gave notice of the approach of morning. well-filled belt which the stranger had The sun was peeping over the distant committed to his charge, and the evil hills, and night vapours still hung in spirit whispered him, that he might be the valleys. The owl, exhausted with come possessed of it by a bold effort. the night's marauding, was wending
“ 'Tis a rare treasure !” muttered he, his way to his twilight retreat in the in hurried and broken sentences "there old tower, and the bat had pinned itself must be at least a thousand nobles in that against the moss-grown wall of the abbelt! He is a stranger—perhaps return- bey, as safe from the eye as from the ing from a far country.--He would not hand of the truant school-boy. Walter be missed! 'Tis a rare prize! 't would Beveridge arose betimes, but early as purchase many a broad acre, and make was the hour, he found the Pedlar up my Emma fit for an earl's bride.--He and dressed for his journey. must die!"
“ Thanks, young master-thanks for He crept softly from his couch, took your hospitality,”—said the old man, from a closet a large knife, and tried the “I have many a weary mile to travel, point with his finger. The storm was and time presses. Now, mark me, for hushed without, but a hideous tenpest what I have to say concerns thee much. raged in the old man's bosom. The Five feet eastward from the foot of the moon-beams which entered at the small ancient oak, near the ruined cross yonder, window glanced upon the long bright lies buried a great treasure.”
(Walter blade, and rendered the face of the trea- stared). “ It was hidden by an ancestor cherous host still more ghastly. He of thy lord the baron's, when civil war cautiously quitted his chamber and re- made merry England a desart. paired to that of his guest, who was the castle, and let him know that thou sleeping soundly. He knelt by the side hast discovered it by my means. He of the sleeping man, and listened for a hath a noble and a generous soul, and moment to his hard breathing, then will reward thee richly for this service. clutched his weapon tightly, placing his -Peace, inquire no more." thumb on the end of the haft, and pre- But," said Walter, imploringly, deparing to strike.
spite of this command, which was given “ The saints say grace to thy un- in an imperative tone-"
_"pr'ythee, good shriven soul!” he exclaimed mentally, father, say, who shall I call thee?" and raised his arm aloft, when lo! ere it As he spoke, he mechanically turned his descended, a violent buffet, dealt by an eyes in the direction of the ruined cross, unseen hand, dashed him senseless to and the old man slapping him on the the floor!
shoulder, replied - Puck THE PEDLAR! It was long ere the perfidious host The astonished youth again turned to returned to consciousness, but when he look upon his Elfin guest, but lo, the