o' his daughter. Never since I was born did I ever see sic brazen-faced impudence. The rascal had the brass to say at once, that he hadna seen word or wittens o' his daughter for a month, though mair than a hundred folk sitting in his company had seen him dauting her with his arm round her jimpy waist, not five minutes before. As a man, as a faither, as an elder of our kirk, my corruption was raised, for I aye hated leeing, as a puir cowardly sin, and an inbreak on the ten commandments; and I fand my neebor, Mr. Glen, fidgeting on the seat as weel as me; so I thocht, that wha ever spoke first wad ha'e the best right to be entitled to the reward; whereupon, just as he was in the act of rising up, I took the word out of his mouth, saying,-" Dinna believe him, auld gentleman, dinna believe him, friend; he's telling a parcel of lees. Never saw her for a month! It's no worth arguing, or caaing witnesses; just open that press door, and ye'll see whether I'm speaking truth or no." The auld man stared, and lookit dumb-foundered; and the young man, instead of rinning forrit wi' his double neives to strike me, the only thing I was feared for, began a laughing, as if I had dune him a good turn. But never since I had a being did I ever witness siccan an uproar and noise as immediately took place. The haill house was sae glad that the scoundrel had been exposed, that they set up siccan a roar o' laughter, and thumpit away at siccan a rate at the boards wi' their feet that at lang last, wi' pushing and fidgeting, and hadding their sides, down fell the place they ca' the gallery, a' the folk in't being hurled tapsy-turvy, head foremost amang the saw-dust on the floor below; their guffawing soon being turned to howling, ilka ane crying louder than anither at the tap o' their voices,-" Murder! murder! haud off me; murder! my ribs are in: murder! I'm killed--I'm speechless!" and ither lamentations to that effect; so that a rush to the door took place, in which everything was overturned-the door-keeper being wheeled away like wildfire-the firms stampit to pieces-the lights knockit out-and the twa blind fiddlers dung head foremost ower the stage, the bass fiddle cracking like thunder at every bruise. Siccan tearing, and swearing, and tumbling, and squealing, was never witnessed in the memory of man, sin' the building of Babel; legs being likely to be broken, sides staved in, een knocked out, and lives lost; there being only ae door, and that a sma' ane; so that when we had been carried off our feet that length, my wind was fairly gane, and a sick qwam cam' ower me, lights of a' manner of colors, red, blue, green, and orange, dancing before me, that entirely deprived me o' common sense, till, on opening my een in the dark, I fand mysel' leaning wi' my braidside against the wa' on the opposite side of the close. It was some time before I mindit what had happened; so, dreading scaith, I fand first the ae arm, and then the ither, to see if they were broken-syne my head-and syne baith o' my legs; but a', as weel as I could discover, was skin-hale and scart free. On perceiving which, my joy was without bounds, having a great notion that I had been killed on the spot. So I reached round my hand, very thankfully, to tak' out my pocket-napkin, to gi'e my brow a wipe, when lo, and behold, the tail of my Sunday's coat was fairly aff and away, dockit by the haunch buttons! CHILD LOST! "Nine," by the cathedral clock! In the gloom the bell-man tramps→ Child lost! Blue eyes, curly hair, Something in the doleful strain Shoot to every feeling heart. Younglings playing round her chair, "Ten," the old cathedral sounds; Child lost! Blue eyes, "Can't my little one be found? Search the alleys, foul and dark, Let me have my child again." Hark! the old cathedral bell Peals "eleven," and it sounds To the mother like a knell; Still the bell-man goes his rounds. Blue eyes, curly hair, Half aroused from dreams of peace, Long and agonizing dread Chills my heart and drives me wild What if Minnie should be dead? God, in mercy, find my child !” "Twelve," by the cathedral clock; In the rain the bell-man tramps. Blue eyes, curly hair, LEAVING THE HOMESTEAD. You're going to leave the homestead, John, And the old man will be sorry, John, You've labored late and early, John, Yet something of your feelings, John, When hope was high within me, John, That I, with strong and measured stroke, The years, they come and go, my boy, But one thing let me tell you, John, Though rogues may seem to flourish, John, Oh! keep in view the good and true; Don't think too much of money, John, And rake and scrape in every shape, Though fools may count their riches, John The best of wealth is youth and health, And don't be mean or stingy, John, Of what you earn; you soon will learn So when old age comes creeping on, Of wealth to furnish all your needs- There's shorter cuts to fortune, John, But those who love their self-respect "All is not gold that glitters," John, Don't meddle with your neighbors, John, And if amid the race for fame The humbler worth of honest men For each one has his mission, John, Be good, be pure, be noble, John, And do to others as ye would That they should do to you. And place your trust in God, my boy, Good bye! May heaven guard and bless The old familiar spots will be So lonely when you're gone. |