and the old man, with many tears, placed in my hands her last letter addressed to me, with a small box containing her miniature and several other mementos of an affectionate heart.

I shall not attempt to describe the anguish of my spirit at this heavy disappointment; at first it seemed to wither up my faculties, as if the only incentive to exertion was entirely destroyed, and all my future prospects were thenceforward to be dark and dreary. Many years have flown away since, and I am now an old post captain; but though I have seen hundreds of beautiful and pleasing women, I am still single. My affection for the devoted Agnes-my first, my only love-remains unshaken, and I look forward to that happy union in the blissful realms of immortality which knows neither separation nor sorrow.

330

THE VETERAN SOLDIER.

"The brave poor soldier ne'er despise,
Nor treat him as a stranger ;

For still he'll prove his country's stay,
In every hour of danger."

THE young urchins were taking their last five minutes of play on the beautiful village green at S, in Devonshire, previous to returning to the school-room for the afternoon, and in the midst of them stood a tall but aged man, who appeared to be regulating the game with all the accuracy of a thorough tactician, I stood watching the interesting group of children (of all ages) whose actions were guided by the tall old man, and witnessed their parting when the sonorous bell called them from their sports. They assembled round the aged mentor, and in a broad Irish accent he bade them mind their "larning," and be good "childer."

I entered into conversation with the veteran, and found he was a pensioner on the army, who had also a little property to live upon in the village of which had been left him by an officer whose

S

life he had preserved at the battle of Talavera. Having an hour or two to spare, I requested to hear something of his history, and with the garrulity natural to old age, he readily complied with my request. We seated ourselves on a rustic bench beneath a giant sycamore, and he began by telling me--but I cannot do better than give it in his own language.

66

Faith, but your honor's mighty condescending," he exclaimed, " to listen to the chathering of ould Pat. Fifty years have marched off under General Time since I first shoulder'd the firelock, and now I am daily expecting the route (for my billet is nearly expired) to assemble for the grand review before the sarcher of all hearts. Och, many 's the time and oft I've wished for some kind friend that I might spake a word to and unburthen my sinful spirit; for when I've stood sentry all alone by myself in the dark nights in Ameriky and Spain, and in dare little Ireland too, I've thought, 'Arrah, Paddy, but you are a great big blaggard, so you are, for running away from your ould mother that's dead and gone, without so much as seeing her dacently laid under the turf. If she had been alive, it would have broke her heart, so it would, to think how her own beautiful Paddy should desart her in time of need, and not stop to see her waked.' But 'twas the dthrink, your honor,

'twas the murthering dthrink, and bad manners to Sarjent Linstock for that same; he laughed at poor Pat, and marched us off without bate of drum, saying that She would never wake again;' for I must be after telling you that there was a recruiting party came down to the fair, so they picked me out as the most likely lad on the sod; and indeed, your honor, there wasn't many in those days, though I say it meself, that dared tread upon my great coat, or call my shtick a rascal. But, as I said before, it was the dthrink, and then they chated me by slipping the king's countenance into my fob when I knew nothing about it at all, at all; but they swore I had 'listed willingly, and had taken the picture meself. Och, by my conscience, didn't I get into a thundering rage, sure!-not that I minded sarving his Majesty, heaven bless the heart of his soul, that's in t'other world! but I thought it was not trateing me handsome, your honor, to trap me into it. But I found it was of no use to complain; so I went to bid poor mother good bye, and she'd just breath enough left to tell me not to disgrace the country that gave me birth. Arrah, Paddy, (says she,) my own dare Paddy, that I loved so tinderly, and used to get the but-but-butbuthermilk and pra-pratees for!' Oh, sir, 'tis a big shame to see a sodger cry; but when I think of the dare soul and the buthermilk, how can I help

it?

Niver dishonor your cloth, Paddy, (says she) nor the king you sarve, nor the father that begot you. Fight in a just cause, and when the vanquished cry for quarter, unlock the heart and spare the hand. Protect the innocent, and do your duty like a man.'

"Then there was poor Norah, your honor. Och, hone, but I thought it would have broken my heart entirely, to see how the tears chased each other down her pale face! And why will ye lave me, Paddy, (says she) all alone by meself? Oh, look at our cottage and the peat-stack-where will you find the likes of it in another country, Paddy? Then there's the bit of a bog yonder for the pigs and the geese, and your own dare Norah, and the pratee garden. Oh, why will you go, Paddy, and lave me all alone by meself?' And then, your honor, I put my arms round her neck, (for I couldn't spake a word,) and my tears fell trickling on a bosom that looked like twin roses moistened with dew. Oh, I niver felt before nor since as I did at that same moment! But then Mr. Sarjent must have his say, divel twist him to the right about round the rim of the moon,-God forgive me that I should have unchristian feelings tow'rds the vilest of his creatures; 6 Come, come, young man, (says he) fall into the ranks and march; you'll soon find prettier girls to lead a wild-goose chase!' Bad