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bosom, now flew boldly to her eyes, and curved her lips, with fondest looks and sweetest smiles for her wedded lord. We have before declared that Snipeton had an intimate acquaintance with his own ugliness: unlike so many who carry the disadvantage with them through life, yet are never brought to a personal knowledge of it, Snipeton knew his plainness: it was not in the power of mirrors to surprise and annoy him. And yet, in his old age, he would feel as though his ugliness was, by some magic lessened, nay, refined into comeliness, when his wife smiled upon him. His face, for the time, seemed to wear her light. And thus did this new belief in her affection give the old man a certain faith in his amended plainness; as though beauty beautified what it loved. “There, Mr. Snipeton—there's a treasure. A lovely thing, eh 7" cried the triumphant Crossbone. “Very handsome, very ; but is she well broken—is she quite safe 2 " said Snipeton, looking tenderly at his wife. “A baby might rein her. No more tricks than a judge; no more vice than a lady of quality.” “Humph '" said Snipeton, dismounting, and giving his horse to St. Giles. “My dear, you will catch cold.” And then the ancient gentleman placed his arm around his wife's waist, and led her from the gate; Crossbone following, and staring at the endearment with most credulous looks. It was so strange, so odd ; it seemed as if Snipeton had taken a most unwarrantable liberty with the lady of the house. And then the apothecary comforted himself with the belief that Mrs. Snipeton only suffered the tenderness for the sake of appearances: no ; it was some satisfaction to know she could not love the man. “And your new maid is come 2 She seems simple and honest,” said Snipeton. “Oh yes: a plain, good-tempered soul, that will exactly serve us,” answered Clarissa. “Very good—very good.” And Snipeton turned into the house. He had thought again to urge his dislike of Mrs. Wilton; to suggest her dismissal; but he would take another opportunity— for go she should : he was determined, but would await his time. As these thoughts busied him, Mrs. Wilton entered the room, followed by Crossbone. Somewhat sullenly, Snipeton gazed at the house-keeper: and then his eyes became fiery, and pointing to the riband that Clarissa had hung about her mother's neck— the riband bearing the miniature, yet unseen by the wearer, he passionately asked—“Where got you that ? Woman Thief! Where stole you that ?” “Stole !” exclaimed Mrs. Wilton, and she turned deathly pale; and on the instant tore the riband from her neck; and then, for the first time, saw the miniature. For a moment, her face was lurid with agony, that seemed to tongue-tie her, and then she shrieked—“Oh God! and is it he 2 ” “Detected detected ' " cried Snipeton—“a detected thief.” “No, sir; no,” exclaimed Clarissa, embracing her parent. “You shall now know all. She is "Clarissa was about to acknowledge her mother, when the wretched woman clasped her daughter's head to her bosom, stifling the words. “No thief, sir,” she said, “but no longer your house-keeper.” And then, kissing Clarissa, and murmuring —“not a word—not one word ” she hurried from the room.
THE POET'S FLOWER-GATHEBING.
“From the Pleasance, Poet mine,
“Flowers whereon the moonbeams shine,
Then the Poet, slowly, slowly
“Spare me—earliest of my race,
Lift thy gaze from earth to sky—
“Hearken, hearken "-and the singing
“He doth sing of sunny places,
Where the winds, young leaves that sunder,
“And he saith the blossoms growing
“Never cruel hand, I wis,
But the Violet, close-hidden