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“Once, passing by this very tree,

A gotch of milk I'd been to fill,
You shouldered me; then laughed to see

Me and my gotch spin down the hill !"

6 'Tis true !” she said; “ but here behold,

And marvel at the course of time; Though you and I are both grown old,

This tree is only in its prime !"

“Well, goody, don't stand preaching now,

Folks don't preach sermons at a fair ; We've reared ten boys and girls, you know,

And I'll be bound they'll all be there."

Now friendly nods and smiles had they

From many a kind fair-going face ; And many a pinch Kate gave away,

While Richard kept his usual pace.

At length arrived amidst the throng,

Grand-children bawling hemmed them round, And dragged them by the skirts along

Where gingerbread bestrewed the ground.

And soon the aged couple spied

Their lusty sons and daughters dear :When Richard thus exulting cried,

“Didn't I tell you they'd be here ?"

The cordial greetings of the soul

Were visible in every face; Affection void of all control,

Governed with a resistless grace.

'Twas good to see the honest strife

Which should contribute most to please, And hear the long-recounted life

Of infant tricks, and happy days,

But now, as at some nobler places,

Amongst the leaders 'twas decreed
Time to begin the dicky races;
More famed for laughter than for speed.

Richard looked on with wondrous glee,

And praised the lad who chanced to win ; “Kate, wa’nt I such a one as he ?

As like him, ay, as pin to pin ?

“Full fifty years are passed away

Since I rode this same ground about; Why, I was lively as the day ;

I won the high-lows out ard out!

" I'm surely growing young again,

I feel myself so kedge and plump: From head to foot I've not one pain;

Nay, hang me if I couldn't jump!"

Thus spoke the ale in Richard's pate,

A very little made him mellow; But still he loved his faithful Kate,

Who whispered thus:-"My good old fellow,

“Remember what you promised me;

And see the sun is getting low; The children want an hour, ye see,

To talk a bit before we go."

Like youthful lover most complying,

He turned and chucked her by the chin; Then all across the green grass hieing,

Right merry faces, all akin,

Their farewell smiles, beneath a tree

That drooped its branches from above, Awaked the pure felicity

That waits upon parental love.

Kate viewed her blooming daughters round,

And sons, who shook her withered hand; Her features spoke what joy she found,

But utterance had made a stand.

The children toppled on the green,

And bowled their fairings down the hill; Richard with pride beheld the scene,

Nor could he for his life sit still.

A father's unchecked feelings gave

A tenderness to all he said ;“My boys, how proud am I to have

My name thus round the country spread !

“ Through all my days I've laboured hard,

And could of pains and crosses tell; But this is labour's great reward,

To meet ye thus, and see ye well.

“My good old partner, when at home,

Sometimes with wishes mingles tears; Goody! says I, let what wool come,

We've nothing for them but our prayers.

6 May you be all as old as I,

And see your sons to manhood grow; And many a time, before you die,

Be just as pleased as I am now.”

Then raising yet once more his voice;

“ An old man's weakness don't despise ! I love you well, my girls and boys,

God bless you all;"—so said his eyes

For as he spoke, a big round drop

Fell bounding on his ample sleeve; A witness which he could not stop,

A witness which all hearts believe.

Thou, filial piety, wert there;

And round the ring, benignly bright,
Dwelt in the luscious hall-shed tear

And in the parting word-good-night.
With thankful hearts and strengthened love,

The poor old pair, supremely blest,
Saw the sun sink behind the grove

And gained once more their lowly rest.


(From the Spanish.) It was but a short hour before noon when the Dean of Santiago alighted from his mule at the door of Don Julian, the celebrated magician of Toledo. The house, according to old tradition, stood on the brink of the perpendicular rock, which, now crowned with the Alcazar, rises to a fearful height over the Tagus. A maid of Moorish blood led the Dean to a retired apartment, where Don Julian was reading. The natural politeness of a Castilian had rather been improved than impaired by the studies of the Toledan sage, who exhibited nothing either in his dress or person that might induce a suspicion of his dealing with the mysterious powers of darkness. “I heartily greet your reverence,” said Don Julian to the Dean, “and feel highly honoured by this visit. Whatever be the object of it, let me beg you will defer stating it till I have made you quite at home in this house. I hear my housekeeper making ready the noonday meal. That maid, Sir, will show you the room which has been prepared for you; and when you have brushed off the dust of the journey, you shall find a canonical capon steaming hot upon the board.” The dinner, which soon followed, was just what a pampered Spanish canon would wish it—abundant, nutritive, and delicate. “No, no,” said Don Julian, when the soup and a bumper of Tinto had recruited the Dean's spirits, and he saw him making an attempt to break the object of his visit, “no business, please your Reverence, while at dinner. Let us enjoy our meal at present; and when we have discussed the Olla, the capon, and a bottle of Yepes, it will be time enough to turn to the cares of life.” The ecclesiastic's full face had never beamed with more glee at the collation on Christmas-eve, when, by the indulgence of the church, the fast is broken at sunset, instead of continuing through the night, than it did now under the influence of Don Julian's good humour and heart-cheering wine. Still it was evident that some vehement and ungovernable wish had taken possession of his mind, breaking out now and then in some hurried motion, some gulping up of a full glass of wine without stopping to relish the flavour, and fifty other symptoms of absence and impatience, which at such a distance from the cathedral could not be attributed to the afternoon bell. The time came at length of rising from table, and in spite of Don Julian's pressing request to have another bottle, the Dean, with a certain dignity of manner, led his good-natured host to the recess of an oriel window, looking upon the river. “ Allow me, dear Don Julian,” he said, “ to open my heart to you; for even your hospitality must fail to make me completely happy till I have obtained the boon which I came to ask. I know that no man ever possessed greater power than you over the invisible agents of the universe. I die to become an adept in that wonderful science, and if you will receive me for your pupil, there is nothing I should think of sufficient worth to repay your friendship.” “Good Sir," replied Don Julian, “ I should be extremely loth to offend you; but permit me to say, that in spite of the knowledge of causes and effects which I have acquired, all that my experience teaches me of the heart of man is not only vague and indistinct, but for the most part unfavourable. I only guess, I cannot read their thoughts, nor pry into the recesses of their minds. As for yourself, I am sure you are a rising man and likely to obtain the first

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