was sent against them by King Charles, and defeated them. At his return, instead of thanks for his good service, he found himself ill-treated for using them mercifully. And Lauderdale told Charles, with an oath, that the duke had been so civil to the Whigs, because, he was a Whig himself in his heart. This made it a court word, and in a little while all the friends and followers of the duke began to be called Whigs; and they, as the other party did by the word Tory, took it freely enough to themselves."

THE BOGLE OF ANNESLIE.

A SCOTTISH FRAGMENT.

"AND ye winna believe i'the bogle," said a pretty young lassie to her sweetheart, as they sat in the door of her father's cottage on a fine autumn evening. "Do you hear that, mither? Andrew will no believe i'the bogle."

"Gude be wi' us, Effie," exclaimed Andrew, a slender and delicate youth of about two-and-twenty, "A bonnie time I wad hae o't gin I were to heed every auld wife's `clatter."

The words "auld wife" had a manifest effect on Effie, and she bit her lips in silence. Her mother immediately opened a battery upon the young man's prejudices, narrating that on Anneslie heath, at ten o'clock at night, a certain apparition was wont to appear, in the form of a young maiden, above the usual size, with a wide threecornered hat. Sundry other particulars were mentioned, but Andrew was still incredulous. "He'll rue that, dearly will he rue it," said Effie, as he departed.

Many days, however, passed away, and Effie was evidently much disappointed, to find that the scepticism of her lover gathered strength. Nay, he had the audacity to insult, by gibes and jests, the true believers, and to call upon them for the reasons of their faith. Effie was in a terrible passion.

At last, however, her prophecy was fulfilled. Andrew was passing over the moor while the clock struck ten; for it was his usual practice to walk at that hour in order to mock the fears of his future bride. He was just winding round the thicket, which opened to him a view of the cottage where Effie dwelt, when he heard a light step behind him, and in an instant his feet were tripped up, and he was laid prostrate on the turf. Upon looking up, he beheld a tall muscular man standing over him, who, in no courteous manner, desired to see the contents of his pocket.

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"De'il be on ye!" exclaimed the young forester, "I hae but ae coin i' the warld." "That coin maun I hae'," cried his assailant. Faith, I'se show ye play for't then," said Andrew, and sprung upon his feet. Andrew was esteemed the best cudgel-player for twenty miles round, so that in brief space he cooled the ardour of his antagonist, and dealt such visitations upon his skull as might have made a much firmer head ache for a fortnight. The man stepped back, and, pausing in his assault, raised his hand to his head, and buried it amongst his dark locks. It returned covered with blood. Thou hast cracked my crown," he said, "but ye sha' nae gang scatheless;" and, flinging down his cudgel, he flew on his young foe, and, grappling his body, before he was aware of the attack, whirled him to the earth with an appalling impetus. "The Lord hae mercy on me," said Andrew, "I am a dead man.'

He was not far from it, for his rude foe was preparing to put the finishing stroke to his victory. Suddenly something stirred in the bushes, and the conqueror, turning away from his victim, cried out, "The bogle! the bogle!" and fled precipitately. Andrew ventured to look up. He saw the figure, which had been described to him, approaching. It came nearer and nearer; its face was pale, and its step was not heard on the grass. At last it stood by his side, and looked down on him. Andrew buried his face in his cloak. Presently the apparition spoke, indistinctly indeed, for its teeth seemed to chatter with cold

"This is a cauld and an eerie night to be sae late on Anneslie Muir," and immediately it glided away. Andrew lay a few minutes in a trance, and then, arising from his cold bed, ran hastily towards the cottage of his mistress. His hair stood an end, and the vapours of the night sunk chill upon his brow, as he lifted up the latch and flung himself on an oaken seat.

"Preserve us !" cried the old woman, "why you are mair than aneugh to frighten a body out o' her wits, to come in wi' sic a jerk, bare-headed, and the red blood spattered a' o'er your new jerkin. Shame on you, Andrew! In what mishanter hast thou broken that fule's head o' thine!"

"Peace, mither!" cried the young man, taking breath, “I hae seen the bogle."

The old lady had a long line of reproaches drawn up in order of march between her lips, but the mention of the bogle was the signal for disbanding them. A thousand questions poured in rapid succession-" How old was she? How was she drest? Who was she like? What did she say?"

f

"She was a tall thin woman, about seven feet high." "Oh, Andrew!" cried Effie.

"As ugly as sin!"

"Other people tell a different story," said Effie. "True, on my bible oath-and then her beard." "A beard! Andrew," shrieked Effie, “ a woman with a beard! For shame, Andrew."

"Nay, I will swear it. She had seen full saxty winters afore she died to trouble us."

man;

"But wha was she like, Andrew?" cried the old wowas she like auld Janet that was drowned in the pond hard by? Or was she like that auld witch, that your master hanged for stealing a sheep? or was she like-"

"Are you sure she was nae like me, Andrew?" said Effie, looking archly in his face.

"You-Pshaw!-Faith, gude mither, she was like naebody that I ken, unless it be auld

Elspeth, the

cobbler's wife, that was spirited awa by the abbots, for breaking father Jerome's head wi' a tin frying-pan." "And how was she drest, Andrew?"

"In that horrible three-cornered hat, which, may I be blistered, if ever I seek to look upon again, and in a long blue apron."

"Green, Andrew," cried Effie, twirling her own green apron round her thumb.

"How you like to teaze one!" said the lover.

Poor Andrew did not at all enter into his mistress's pleasantries, for he laboured under great depression of spirits, and never lifted his eyes from the ground.

"But ye ha' na' tauld us what she said, lad," inquired the old woman, assuming an air of deeper mystery, as each question was put and answered in its turn.

"Lord what signifies it whether she said this or that! Haud your tongue, and get me some comfort, for to speak truth I'm vera cauld."

"Weel mayest thou be sae," said Effie, "for, indeed," she continued, in a feigned voice, "it was a cauld and an eerie night to be sae late on Anneslie Muir."

Andrew started, and a doubt seemed to pass over his mind. He looked upon the damsel, and perceived, for the first time, that her large blue eye was laughing at him from under the shade of a huge three-cornered hat. The next moment he hung over her in an ecstacy of gratitude, and smothered with his kisses the ridicule which she forced upon him as the penalty of his preservation. "Seven feet high, Andrew!"

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My dear Effie!"

"As ugly as sin!"

"My darling lassie!"

"And a beard!"

"Na', na', now you carry the jest o'er far." "And saxty winters!"

"Sixteen springs, Effie, dear, delightful, smiling springs."

"And Elspeth, the cobbler's wife. Oh, Andrew! Andrew! I ne'er can forgive you for the cobbler's wife.

And what say you now, Andrew, is there nae bogle on the muir?"

My dear Effie, for your sake I'll believe in all the bogles in Christendie."

"That is," said Effie, at the conclusion of a long and vehement fit of risibility, "in a' that wear threecornered hats."

Pocket Magazine.

FOUR ANECDOTES.

THE DIVING BELLE.

MRS. MORRISS, the lady of Major Morriss, who a year or two ago descended in the diving-bell at Plymouth, whilst under water wrote a long letter to her father, which concluded with the following lines :

From a belle, my dear father, you 've oft had a line,
But not from a bell under water;

Just now I can only assure you I'm thine-
Your diving affectionate daughter.

DUMBIEDIKES, IN THE HEART OF MID LOTHIAN.

The following striking resemblance to the death of the elder worthy of that name, as described in the novel, occurs in an old novel, called the Witch of the Woodlands, and relates to the final exit of a provincial esquire.

The worthy clergyman, who never attended him till now, did all that a gentleman of that venerable character could do in such a case; he advised him cordially, prayed for him fervently, gave him all reasonable hope, and endeavoured to dispel any needless fear. He left him with his pious benediction. Some time after, his hopeful son, and his two servants, Clod and Blunder, attended him he was seized with a strong convulsion fit; recovering, he gained his speech, and these were his last words :

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