But his head hung down, like a dew-bent flower,
And he stood there helplessly;

And the woman-an old ill-favoured crone-
Scowl'd at him, and said, in a sharp, cross tone,
"You're always a plague to me."-

"What ails you, my little man ?” said I; "Such a lightsome thing as you, Should bound away, like a nimble deer, From stone to stone, and be over here, Before one could well count two."

The child look'd up-To my dying day
That look will haunt my mind-

The woman look'd too, and she tuned her throa
(As she answer'd us) to a softer note,

And, says she, "The poor thing's blind!

"His father (who's dead) was my sister's sonLast week, his mother died too ;—

He's but a helpless thing you see,

Yet the parish has put him upon me,
Who am but ill to do.

"And his mother made him more helpless still,
Than else he might have been;

For she nursed him up like a little lamb,
That in winter time has lost its dam,
Such love was never seen!

"To be sure, he was her only one-
A sickly thing, you see-

So she toil'd and toil'd to get him bread,
And to keep him neat-'twas her pride, she said-
Well! 'tis a hard thing, now she's dead,
To have him thrown on me.

"And now we shall be too late for church,
For he can't get over-not he';

I thought the old bridge did well enough,
But they're always at some alt'ring stuff,
Hind'ring poor folks like we.'

I look'd about, but from my side
Edmund was gone already,

And, with the child clasp'd carefully,
Across the stream back bounded he,

With firm foot, light and steady.--

"And the woman,” said I, “ won't you help her too? Look where she waits the while.""Hang her old cat!-if I do," quoth he, "To souse her into the midst, 'twill be!" For my life, I could not but smile,

So we left her to cross as best she might,
And I turn'd to the sightless child,

His old white hat was wound about
With a rusty crape, and fair curls waved out,
On a brow divinely mild.

The tears still swam in his large blue eyes,

And hung on his sickly cheekThose eyes, with their clouded vacancy, That looked towards, but not at me, Yet spoke to my heart more touchingly

Than the brightest could ever speak. I took his little hand in mine,

('Twas a delicate, small hand,) And the poor thing soon crept close to me, With a timid familiarity

No heart could e'er withstand.

By this time the woman had hobbled up

Ah, Goody !-what, safe ashore ?" Quoth Edmund I knew, without help from me, You'd paddle across”-askance look'd she, But spoke not a word ; so in company,

We moved on to church all four. But I felt the child's hand (still clasp'd in mine)

With a shrinking dread compress'd “ Do you love to go to church?” I said.“ Yes,” and he hung down his little head

“ But I love the church-yard best.”.

“ The church-yard ! my little fellow—and why?

Come, tell me why, and how ?"“ Because because" and the poor thing Sobb’d out the words, half-whispering

“ 'Cause mammy is there now.”

Feelings, too deep for utterance,

Thrill'd me a moment's space; At last—"My little friend,” said I, “ She's gone to live with God on high,

In Heaven, His dwelling-place;
“ And if you're good, and pray to him,

And tell the truth alway,
And bear all hardships patiently,
You'll go there too."-But when?” said he ;

“ Shall I go there to-day ?”-
Nay, you must wait till God is pleased

To call you to his rest."-
“ When will that be?” he ask'd again,
Perhaps not yet, my child !"_" Oh! then

I love the church-yard best."
And to the church-yard we were come,

And close to the church-door,
And the little hand I held in mine,
Still held, loth was I to resign,
And from that hour, the face so mild,
And the soft voice of that orphan child,
Hath haunted me ever more.

C.

THE AUTO-BIOGRAPHY OF TIMOTHY TELL,

SCHOOLMASTER OF BIRCHENDALE.

No. III.

CHAPTER IX.

We travelled the whole of the day; the grave gentleman in the middle nor did we stay to take any rest at assured me, he had met with the same night; but continued to pursue our remark in some book of travels he had route without let or hinderance, other read; so that I cannot be accused of than stopping for the necessary pe- imposing on my readers the mere phanriods of meals, at the different places tom of my own imagination. We had in our road. Notwithstanding the stopped to drink tea at a place, of rapidity with which I was wafted which I now forget the name, and through the country by this admira- were again embarked in the vehicle ; ble machine, I failed not to mark every I was deeply meditating on the event thing that attracted my notice ; and of my enterprize ; two or three of the I feel aware, that those benevolent company had nodded to sleep; the personages, who have accompanied me occasional discourse between the lothus far on my pilgrimage, have a quacious traveller and the young lady right to all the observations I made by was dropping into silence; and the the wayside. I regret indeed, for their whole of the interior of the machine sakes, that they are so few; but from was quiet and composure I was very the conformation of the vehicle, my disagreeably roused from my reverie range of sight was necessarily limited, by the Inquisitor, who had been yawnand indeed my attention was very much ing grievously for some time, and now, attracted to the interior of the coach, to divert his weariness, began to ply by the novelty of intercourse with me with very home questions, as to utter strangers, whose conversation where I was going, and the nature of and manners were to me as great cu- my business, and so forth. Unwilling riosities as the Unicorn or the Mam- to be rude, and seeing the rest of the moth would be to more travelled gen- company asleep, I ventured to tell him try. I took particular notice of the that I was “ going to London on busistate of the country through which I ness of importance, appertaining to passed, and was struck with the signs literature ;-and indeed to the welfare of luxury and prosperity which every- of society and mankind in general," ! where niet my eye. At first I kept a added in a low tone of voice ; for I did reckoning of every gentleman's-seat, not like to seem assuming, or to take village, and town, through which we an air of superiority over my less-dis. passel ; but when I had multiplied tinguished fellow-travellers. the knots on my handkerchief till the “ Doubtless, sir, doubtless," said space was exhausted, I was forced to the middle traveller, opening his eyes, abandon my inventory; and I am and leaning respectfully forward to therefore unable to inform iny reader catch the last words I had uttered. of the sum total between my native “ I was well convinced it could be no village and the metropolis. The face small matter that induced you to haof the country seemed varied--we zard yourself on the great ocean of sometimes ascended hills, but I think life, where so many slender barks are quite as often came down again. I wrecked. You have already, however, honestly confess, (I wish all travel met with admirers and well-wishers,” lers would do the same,) that I saw said he, bowing first to the old lady, but very little, and it would be very and then to all round. “ I am sure, I unfair to expect me to describe what wish success to your enterprizes, be I have not seen ; but we went so ex- they wliat they may."~" And that," tremely fast, that the whole country, said the inquisitive traveller, " is to hedges and all, seemed to be running be a mystery, it seems.”—“And likeaway from us, the which when I no- ly to remain so," subjoined the last ticed, and expressed my astonishment, comer. The gentleman in black shrug. Vol. XIII.

с

my head indignantly.

ged his shoulders, and looked very
significantly, nodding, as much as to
say, I knew best." Well," said the
inquisitive traveller, " for my part, I
like every man to tell his business, if
it's honest, and to make himself agree-
able; that's my way of going through
the world; and if it's not fit to be
talked of, why, I suppose it had better
not."-" But," said the young woman,
"surely it would not be pleasant to
tell every body one's private affairs."
"My dear, you must not pretend to
know any thing of the world at your
age. It does not look well to be so
secret." The middle traveller shrug-
ged again. I began not to like these
remarks, which seemed to be aimed at
me; and I could not help thinking,
there must be something in my ap-
pearance which excited their suspicion.
I considered what it could be--I sur-
veyed myself from beginning to end
my buckles were properly adjusted in
my shoes, which still shone with the
ivory-black of my own dear village
my hose, knit by the hands of my
niece, and carefully mended by the
same, shewed plainly how much I was
an object of solicitude to those to whom
I belonged-my black breeches, (a tri-
fle worn)-my coat and waistcoat in
still better preservation-my cravat
tied and folded with peculiar neatness,
so far all was well; and though there
might be a little air of antiquity in the
fashion of my clothes, (which suited
better with my age than the strange
garments of the modern times,) yet
could not conceive why that should
operate to my prejudice. All this pass-
ing through my mind, gave an appear-
ance of confusion to my manner, which
was increased by finding the eyes of all
my companious turned upon me at

"Then I'm

sure I don't know, nor can't guess."-
"I am not at all surprised, sir, that
you should fall into the belief of this
gentleman's being intrusted with the
secret commissions of government, whe-
ther foreign or domestic."-" A more
trusty person certainly could not be
found," said the new-comer.
"Cer-
tainly not," rejoined the grave gentle-
man. "Well," said the inquisitor,
"I hope such gentlemen find it a plea-
sant trade; they must have some rare
dirty work to do now and then. I
could not abide it."-" No, sir, doubt-
less," said the man in black, accus-
tomed, as you must be, to the perfume
of your own wicked deeds, all others
must be intolerable." "I don't know
what you mean for to say, sir; but
I'll be so bold as to tell you, that a
good warm trade, do you see, is no
shame to any man. I warrant you,
my daughter may take her choice of
some of the best matches in London-
Wicked deeds forsooth! I'm not asha-
med of my calling; and many a noble-
man at the west end of the town, who
has dipped his estate, would think
there was no ill smell in the fruits of
my tallow."

It now struck me, that my companions must have formed a mean opinion of my circumstances, and perhaps, however unjustly, harboured suspicion of me on the score of poverty. It is true, I had no riches to boast of; but I was desirous of shewing them how far removed was my case from one of penury. "Riches, sir, said I, "are the great stumbling-block of this life. I know not, for my part, why the poor are not as estimable as the rich, if a little money, more or less, makes all the difference. But education, sir, is the thing which makes a real distinction betwixt man and man. What is it to me that I have my pocket-book well lined with this perishable article," said I, at the same time taking out my bank-note, and twirling it round in the very eyes of my antagonist, and which I thought produced an immediate effect," what is it to me, sir, if I have not also other qualities to distinguish me from the senseless mass of mankind?"-" I agree with you entirely," said the middle traveller; "but you need not fear being overlooked amongst the common herd, whilst you have so many distinguishing characteristics. Indeed, I