L a thins. I might have said or done, and fll the things said or done so much better left undone. Well, the tedious Summer days go by. '*** fffe never see Colonel Gordon now ; hs seems U-L jjave given us up; even papa seems to Qd. rLjler at his silence. The hot August§day, 1 e t Jlfl leave noisy, dusty London behind, and Nl [flfl wia? for the continent. We have got War the fi^t shock of poor Mr. Hamilton* ° fath bn* I »n> noi quite what I was, and I He, SSLk'if Cotone! Gordon could see me now ha a 3 j Sold think me lass frivolous. I have a halt .j. TL that we may meet him in our wauder . - = I look anxiously into all the hotels, Ofc -nto'the boobs of visitors, where ia name is is'i n o t registered, aud after two months of gar "Lntain and sea air we como back to old ilea] rondon, the old house and the old life. We Did have been home a week. To-day papa has sot to his occupations again, and to-day I feel ret terribly sad and cheerless—a sadness which all things around roe tend to deepen ; the k 'ye of dead leaves of the garden-paths, the iter moanings of the wind in the leafless branches, Jr. co i| gr S y aspect of the sky. Is there H „ o tHng I should like to do ? I think, as I Llder listlessly between the garden and the ;h E , l" m J Ah ! yes, there is one thing I have .f "Lava intended to do. and why not to-day ? JO! Tgather a nosegay of late Autumn flowers out of our own garden, knowing that, if )!j i; v in<r that would have pleased him most, . a nd I set oat on my sad pilgrimage. They OS we laid my lover to rest at Norwood in the . dim vaults away under the church. As I wa1!: up the long rows of tombs a chilly raiu ioj begins fallioi?, beating in my face ; but Ido E; _Aiesl frightened or lonely in this capital 0. of the dead, nor do I shrink as, lib by a as faintly glimmering taper, I wander down she . sad, populous region below, though I shivor en at rhe dauk air, in which death seems to be as; come almost palpable. My guide, looking tij carefully at she na-nes, tapor in hand, stops ii before one. I signify to him thas I would «, bsalonsfor a few minutes, and he redres. I )»i bsnddowa and read the inscription : " Wm. Hamilton, born May 17, ISSI ; died June 9, I 1873. ' a egiveth His beloved sleep '\ Is it, indeed, sleep for him, «nd unmarrao oy ai_y '1 .. dreams? I think of how he loved me— tihav «' love which I held so lightly—and the plea en I toous tears come. But here is a step- Tno mi! enstodianof the p:p.ca coming back, I suppose. I raise my eyes hurriedly, and Colonel Gor i| dou enters; buo they have ia them a milder, 4 sweeter look than I have ever seen there be •4 fore. He tikes my hands in his aud holds , them, looking long and lovingly at the ii inscription en ;;he offiu. We do not speak ;i: a word, but we leave rhe place togebhsr, aud n I come out into the gray wintry light of tho 1:1 fading day. i fe draws my arm in his, stilJ a holding my hand, and we ;valk a little way X in silence. At length ho says, very kindly : , 'Thank you for fhis, Rhoda ; I did not know i I that you ioved him so much.' - 'Stop,' I say; 'I am very sorry for hioa, ;i and I feel so grateful that he should have , cared for me ; buij in the way you mean I ' j never loved him, Ad you siid to mo that ■! night was right and true, and I have been -he , better for it.' I 'No harm has been done,' ha rejoins ; ' and I if he died thinking you loved him, he died I happier. Bu; you are not looEing well. Is j anytaing troubling you ?' f ' No ; iam not n-ippy ; and ni*v he has • goae, I have no one who I t.hiuk r<..diy loves j me.' 'You are mistaken there,' he replies quietly. I 'Doa't you know that I love you?' Aud j then more- to hini3alf thnn to me, ' as my life, S3 mysoal. I loved you, Bhoda, from the f firs, day I saw you ; but then he loved you, ■ too, find h>. wa3 so unable to buffet the waves ?of this worid. If you could navo loved him j and made his life happy—weil, dear, you ■ understand, I have said more thau I meant to 3ay; consider some of it unsaid ; only remember if ever you want a friend, you will know where to come ; and,' he adds with rather a sad smile, ' I will not evon in jast aak you to become my wife.' ' Because you consider me so worthless ?' 'Because I will not give you the pain of p saying no.' 'Because you will not give me the joy of saying yes.' ' That could not be,' he replies, with almost childish incredulity in hi 3 voice ; ' why I am fifteen years older than you.' ' And if it were twice that it would be no thing,' I reply warmly. ' But must you beat all the pride out of me ?' He turns round now and faces me, laying Ilia hands upon my shoulders, while I gaze into his eyes, so frank and fearles3. ' Remem ber,' he says, in a solemn voice, ' the place from which we have ju3t come ; remember all that is at stake, and then ted me if you can say from the bo.tora of your heart —I love you.' My heart does not falter as I echo his last words, and I know now that he will never ask me that question again--at last for the want of confirmation He folds me in his arms, and, bending down, kisses my lips long and passionately. ' I came in hare/ he says, one of che weariest men ia all God's earth, and now I .-.in surely the most blessed.' We go back to London, both happy, bosh supremely happy ; and as we drive home through the shrieking London streets, I shudder to think how nearly I had missed the great peace aud happiness of my life. ( He had kept his secret manfully, but thank wod it his b.jn known at Isst, and not too late,

'Papa/ sa,.-. a little one to h.r sire, 'you we:e restedla.tnight, were&'lyou. 'So, my dear; pa.a never did s.yl.jiag to be arrested for.' 'Why. you slept ail night; didn't tha*. rest yoa 7 The 'old mao, rave . and ord.tfd us. .mint-sticks for the family.— Akdynaysit is no worse to encircle a lady's wai3t n-tli your aria in v ball-room ih-in to kiss your fiend's si i*er on Ih 5 Lncfc stairs. No worse "Why, it ij not half b... good. , Suppose They Sh ouli See (Js.'-MissSmith and hr Bio*.erMra .lons. ~r3 not woll built (s.-ij'd a P >ri. I'JDcr); indeed, if they been construe .daft." plana 1>! .(rani t,)ie -.1 or, the fac.iU3 b.rricad s architect, '- '-. could so; bo worse. ■ hoy readied TroiiviUfl J' )i. ..i.:iy, y „4 p.-e;,::rcd to bat.lß. Whe 1 they reached tl'ttb-iaoh, lo it >V-.s crowded with spectators. 'Oil, I ever cm . .:).'s*:u Miss -inilU, 'bef re -11 'hise P-oplJ. Su:ps. they .bond -.to us!' 'Well su.- P-tt Uk.}. r-o ? so mach v.o -.totbo for th m.'repl.ed i! ';f iomc',-2 . siiter, wiio hi., th 1 c'Ui&g. ,-f her defects It is Binjjii: t U<.~ _ i.idly s-.-iuy vouag «<>ntier_.eu l^ora the country jo .. their coloui- w lioa visiting l»rg° ti.i..j, ti lo> g0 ii__r^very glean, »nd invariably Ittey return vary b.owa

Little Davy.

Thr minister of , one of the best living in point of chalders, in the Synod of Dunblane' was one Autumu evening, towards the close of the last century riding ieisu-oly a lon» by the foot of the green Oohih, homeward bouud from Presbytery dinner at Stirling but diverging something from his course, to pass a day or two with a landed proprietor the friend of his patron, aud former pupil! This gentleman hai lately married the sister of our minister's pupil, and had just settled ?*.. I! oatßte in thia pr'rfc of tha country. Whether the reverend divine merely wished to pay his respects to the lady, whom he had no. s^en since her childhood, or to ascertain the precise state of the ' cough and detiuxiou' which had threatned all Spring to carry off the aged incumbent of the parish —in which the manse and glebe were some £lo par annum better then his own—and whether his sifctingdown cold still hung about the incumbent, or if those causes all combined produced the actuating motive which led bitn so far out out of his course, it is not to tell, certain only it is, that as night began to fali, coming to a point where the road divided he found it prudent to question the elder of two boys, who were slowly driving tho cows they herded, homeward, down a green loaming. ' Can you direct me, my man, the road to T— ?' said our divine. With more frankness and better breeding then is usual iv his age and calling, tho eldor boy gave copious directions. ' I huva been thare a hundred times going to Menafcrie -Fair/ said he. 'Do you see "the l?ir Park yonder?— the park where the cushat's nest is ? V. eel, ye 11 just baud down a 'blow that, and pas. the bourtreea, an J nrx; Brownie's well, aud then ye come 10 the stepping sfcanes. Bat maybe ye would like to lake the New Bri ' ? That's the way little Pate and I went to gather reddaus yesternight— maybe y-.. would like soma ?' And here the boy hastily and hospitably produced the delicicy, which however, our divine, in his days of hoi-ding m ght. have relished, had no attractions to a seventeen years' thriving incumbent, who h. ii now for twice seventeen years sat at 'good men's feast. ' But ha remembered very lately having hoard Colonel Thornton, no mean authority, recommend a conserve of rouans as a better condiment with either mutton or venison, .ban the Cockney's currant jelly, usually employed for she same meats, and he accordingly stuffed the gift into his pockets, medifca.mg experiment. 'You're a good boy, Dwy — is is Davy they call ye? I think X know my way now. But where's your bonnet? aod a minister speaking to ye?' For, though humble in his own pc Bin, oar divine liked to suoport she dignity o: the Kirk. 'Where's my bonnet?' quoi.h Davy, rubbing his eves as the minister role off— 'he must ba blind, or he would have seen my bonnet, just wuere it: should be, on my am head. If he could no. see it, he'll nevor see the bourfcrees, and the stepping sfcanea, and the road to T—T^at Hawkey, Pice, and Til run after the gentleman i»nd set him right. The minister was to-night iv a very gracious humor, aud when D.ivy, out of breath, overcook him, and explained his purpose of becoming his guide, with his ; reasons, the clergyman smiled at the simplicity of the boy, and now carefully informed him, that by sayiug whera's your bonnet? he m.ani;, wiara 13 your bow? which, he instructed Davy, should ahvays he prompoly ready for his superiors, and especially for ministers. 'Thank you, sir,'said Davy, now taking off his bonnet; ' noi.her thegademan nor the gudewife, ever fash wi:;h uhafc; and our minister ia a Seceder, aud only targe 3ua on the Camtch. And I have nobody to learn mo manners now, since the Almighty took my poor mother. She would aye say to me, '130 a civil obliging; laddie, *Dyad, aud everybody will like you ; ant no fear but yo get a good master.' I kent I should take off my bonnet to the laird, and the minister, but aftor this I wiil take it off to all gentlemen whan I ken them, and ail If dies too ; I aye ken them by their hauding up their gourds and ga'en on thoir toes ; thank you, air, for bid.ling me.' ' And what s your nams, my little man ?' 'Davy, sir, just Davy.' 'That I know all already, but what besides? What was your father called ? *My father is dead too; he was dead before Peter, that is my little bro her, was born ; the gudoman, the gudewife, and all the men and las.es just call me Davy, at your service ; and so does the minister.' Our divine beatowed a penny on his guide, and in the course of the next forenoon, he related his adventure to his young hostess, who had a kind and generous heart. The little boys, with blue bonnets, herding two black and white cows,' she said. She had seen the boys frequently in her walks; their mother, who was one of the best poor women in the country side, had formerly been laundress in the family of which she was now tho mispress, and it was one of bcr husband's tenants who at her request, gave employment and shelter to the orphans. Our minister resolved a generous act. Ha needed an intelligent boy about the age of Davy, who could clean knives, brush shoes, rub down and wat r the pony, and go an eirind occasionally to Dunfermline or Ailoa, when letters were looked for, or wheaien qread or fresh meat required. 'it will be an act of great charity said the lady, delight-.*! to got Divy into such comfortable hom9 ; aadahe seal; for him im mediately, andintroducadhitn 00 ;he minister. 'I know him v«ry weil already,' said D;ivy ; *it is the gentalman that asked, 'Where's your bonnet?' Davy's bonnet was in his hand now. ' And you will bo pleased to go home with him, and do what he bids you till you s,re strong and big enough, for othar work.' «Surely,'cried D-ivy, 'if ho wen? me to school, like the gndemau, and les me see little Peter en the Saturday.' ' Certainly, my little man ; G-irzy and my self will give you a Icasoa overy day in the Bible find yous oa-tfcLi-sra ' D>>,\y lougod for taw happy day when ho should go to the macso, 15 miles off, and be the 'minister's 'little man,' I bu'shaaoonfoundhewasnotin Goshen. Little

drudges about a kitchen or stable, * the servant of servants,' are seldom the most fortunate of children. Tho minister was naturally of a selfish and harsh temper, which long waiting for a kirk, and celibacy had not softened; and Girzy was only like to many of the ancient housekeepers of old bachelors. That poor Davy could either feel or reflect more than the three-foot stool on which he sat cleaning knives, never Beamed to enter into thair minds ; for they cuffed and kicked him about as readily as that piece of furniture, Ho was, among bis imny employments, sent to weed tho garden, and if he drew a new sprung plant in place of a weed, though it was next to impossible for him to know the difference, a thrashing was sure reward. When sent oa an errand iv the worst weather, wind and rain, and bad roads, if he stayed a few minutes behind the time which Giszy, and tho mrnister had fixed for his return by the cuckoo clock, or watch, 'he is diverting himself with his blackguard companions,' Girzy would cry malicioaslv, and a slap in the faco would welcome bit return while the minis tor consi dered it his duty to chastise him with the horse-whip. Tho minister had no roasting jack iv his ki-chen, and oue of Davy's most frequent jobs was to turn on the spit meat of which he was never to h;ive a nearer knowledge then by smeil. Nothing made his master more angry than the roisb not being nicely done. A good beating was always premised for this offence, of ofteu falsely imputed negligence ; and the minia.cr never forfeited his word. If Davy was promised half a dozen lash.s, he was generally paid with a round dozen ; and ia short, no minister's little man had ever been so wretched as poor Davy. It happened one Saturday that the lady who reeouiui'.n rlod tho orphan to this service, sent the minister a present of a suoking pig. a favorite morsel with him, and inform ;d him at tho i sarao time that an old friend of theirs was to corns to sermon at his church ncx-j d »y, aud would afterwards taka pot-luci. with him. His chops watered at sight of the pig, for he was naturally gluttonous, and by long habit good easing had becom9 his favorite solitary enjoyment; he would have gone a day's journey at any time for a bit of tho stuffing, . and the nice crisp skin, well bastod wir.h a fa-got of aagc«y dipped iv butter, suit and water. The church was . mo3t adjoining j the tnanso; and Girzy, having made every preparation for dinner, pub the pig to the tire, believing D-*vy had now experience enough to tura the spit and ba.te the roas. by hirasalf, wi.hou. har superintendence. She was jus. gone, waen the servant who attended nis guest brought tho minister two small bottles from the same lady who had s ;iit the pig. Tae minister had only time to place them ou the window shelf, .-s tho bell for church was just ringing. He cist a last anxious look ou the pig, which was now making slow revolutions round and round, under the steady guiding hand of Davy, and already beginning to exhale a very savory odor. 'It will just be ready when sermon i.-j over,' thought tho minister ; aud ha said aloud, ' If you roast it well, I will not forgai; it to you ; but if you dare to burn it, you had as good be sleeping ; I'll c.rbainly kill you.' Davy, who had never known his master to fail in Euifilling nis threats of punishment, promi.el to be care ful so keep up che fire, aud to baste d.dii gently ; and thanks to tho sag:., and onions, and Girzy'a odoriferous atulfiug, a ino-ifc tempting flavor to a hungry boy was soon spread through the kitchen from tho pig, which became aa golden hi own as a chest nut. It h:i3 ofteu been said, a:id the nuxuii is still a. true a3 ever, tha. nothing is worse for young people than bad example. This was* Sue first pig D.*vy had over roasted. Neither ben, nor goose, nor lamb, bare, or turkey, hc^d never smeib so temptingly ; aud ho wuTs all aloue. He manfully resisted the first stirrings of temptatiou, ' No,' aaid he, ' though i am certain if I managed like Girzy that the minister could not find is out, 1 won't taste it.' But tho more turns of the spit Davy made, and the nearer hia nose approached the savor that aro3a from hia frequeai bastings, the more powerful the temptation grew ; and now the bad conse quences of evil example were seen He had often when turning the spib, laden wish pork, veal, beef or mutton, seen G;rzy dexterously slice out a piece horizontally, and by a layer of du.ted-ia flour, and frequent basting, and holding to the lire, raise a ficti tious appearance of skin, that deceived even the keen-eyed minister. It was of this trick the unhappy Davy now, in an evil hour, made v«. 'c could no longer resist. He hastily seized a knife, and cut off a m0r..0l of crisp skin, which tasted so deliciously, that he returned to the charge again and again, in a kind of frenzy of appetite, till the whole crackling was devoured! and then— vain attempt -to conceal tha fraud, ha had resource to Girsy's experiment, which ended in the skinless pig being scorched black in many places. • Whit shall I do ! what shall I do !' cried Davy; 'the minister will kill me—and I deserve it.' And for tha first time Davy felt that he had merited the punishment, which he of ten received for no fault at all. He was too candid and conscientious to blame the evil example of Girzy. which had led him into this snare. ' Oh, I deserve tdl he can do to me -and he will kill mo !he will kill me ! Lord have mercy on me ! in this extremity Davy tin-rmd his eyes pn the two sm 11 bottles stan i i.e. in the win dow, which was mentioned which bheminister in his hurry, had left there charging tbe t-.oy for his life not ;;ouch tham, as they con tained poison DAvy had not hitherto thought of this injunction, but now is dar'cd on lus mind ' Aa good ba poisoned as killed with fche horse-wnip,' be cried ; and abandoning the pig to burn to a cinder at its • leisure, be eagerly swallowed the contents of oue of the bottles at a draught;. It was marked Maraschino,, which D«.vy cook for ' granted was, :'.s She Cnr*coa written on fcno other, ijorno potent, d .;i-i!y powoa. ;He now S v. down on his little stool to die. 'I will soon die' thought Divy ; 'and when die ' minister and Girzy com* from she kirk I will .'). >:*;; :uere d'; ; :u, and ii--. -ox- ;__o>- then.' Bu; death approach .1 very stowJy. Dasy Kar- th* chaic i oUz-k th:-:*n\ [ and knew the minister would return in a lew > I m inutes more. In a frenzy of despair he

rushed upon tho other bottle, aud despatch?, it also ; and now ha waa sure death c not be far off. In the meantime, in wai l J its arrival, Davy fell ini:o a deep sleep, a^_n sunk on the kitekoa floor. I. was Girzy who entered first, as tho miniver had to pu. off his gown ; the bad smoll of burnt pig mot her at the door. ' Come hero, minister, and see your bonny Davy,' cried the malicious jade ; and tho minister entered in a fury. ' Where is my whip ? whore i._ my whip ? —rascal, I will kill you !' cried he. Davy roused himself at thi. threat. Ho crawled to the feet of the minister, who had returned wish the lash, aud cried for mercy, though he was hardly able to articulate, for the poi.on had now begun to operate. Davy exhibited every symptom of a drunken man a boy can show, except A drunken nun's gaiety. 'Do not kill mo, minister,' he cried. ' There' 3no ne.d ; I have swallowed the the two little bogles of poison you left in the window. I must soon die now.' Imagine the rage o? the mini, or, when, turning _o the window, ha s".w the two liquor botfiea empty. He brought tho 1-v-di several times aoou. 'die boy's si?.oul<ier ; but, perceiving that tho boy was nearly de A drunk, ha delayed hia punishment ..ill next day, and ordered Girzy to throw tho you.!'; vagabond on b . bed in the stable, rcsoivin_r that Davy should get his flu. j with interest. Trie sight of the empty place on tho t.vde, which tho suoking pig should have occupied —one of bha (iuost, fat, rleiic-ite sucking pig-, he had ever even-—did ao~, soften tho rain f ister'i resentment. The pig run in hir< ho,'.;] aii day and all night. On Monday morning Dj.vy awoke, :.f_er r>. sleep of eijjh.eeu hours, with a dre.dfui headaohe and a consuming thirst, 'Iti.. the effect of the poiy-oi.,' thought ho ' 1 though. 1 would die sooner, an.l my master would not ihon kill me. It will bo hard to be poisoned and killed, boo. It was ■> great sin to poison myself-Lord pardon mo for it.' Ho again fell '-sir.ep, aud when the minister saw hira still deprived of hi. senses and motion, he left him without ssi-il.iru> him. ' I'm surprised ;._ you;: patience wi: !i tho young .. .0.;.!,' cried Givzy, 'that you have not thrashed him within an inch of hi.. life. 'He'i! be seeking his bte-Atf&tf by aud by,; replis-1 the minister, 'and before he gets that •he shall have all hi:; dut;3, quad jusiurn, us Iho reallj' deserves. lln the afternoon Davy awoke one; more— not yob dead 1 His headache, wad, indeed ! rather bettor and he w.-.a f .n. Ji; )_' i j hunger, having tasted no hi -g but .ho < pilfered civickung bi-tor. brcaUf:. t time on Sunday. Bu; he du_st not ■.-•-.r_.u c in.o :.b> houao to a.:sk for food. All -he horror of hi.. crimes, thefs and self-mu;der, now appeared before him. but tho drsad of puuisDiu.it was yet more appaliiug. ' Who-, will beooi •■<:, j of mi.? ' crieltha muiorable D^vy. And they must be cru-jl aud mc onsid ;r,i_ person.:, i indeed, who rashly drive a boy, a_ his ! thougiitles-j y«ar3, to sucu painful extremity-. They may be tho authors of all his fufu. : misfortunes, aud of crimes ho never would i have otherwka cotnm tted. 11-.; thought o | running to sea, whiuu ho b.-;d he;.trd o: i>o/, . doiug ; of going to a cottyn mill, and ot •:• coalpit. For a soldier ho .vas f.r too little. Happily ho wanted courage £ >r ..iiy of ..hese exploits, and he dually resolved to run b:.ck to tiiu guddmm'3. '1 do not know tho way thought D-ivy, ' bui the Lord *vili guide mo. Pato is not so welt, off a;; i_re —" tho mb.-i. or's littlo i-iia' - bu_ P.i.. ia not scolded aud cuff ;d by Girzy and thrashed by t.-ic miuisjir every day, whether ho bo a good boy or a bad boy, sdl the same. \'os, when ni:!i comes, .1 vvid bolt tho stable duo., znd v a-p; out by U;e ioit window. I will .. k tho rond first to Tillicoultry ; I have a gude Scotch ton"ue in my head, as the gudcuiuu UaoU t > say. If I once to Tillicoultry, lit r,..0u find the road w -be gudemau's.' Davy wore a suit of clerical livery tha.f_ Girzy n;ud the tailor of tho village had provided for him ou ; | of an old suit of the ministor's. Ho knew the cloth:, did not belong to him, so he dressed himseif in his old Uannul shirt aud tattered breeches, and without shoes, stoutt ings or bonnet, made ids escape iv a terrible fright, repeating she Lord';. Prayer _v. ho ran, and in mortal dread of tne tnu-.1-tcf pursuing, overtaking, and kihiug him. This was not very likoly ; but Davy was not yet the close, acute reasoner he afterward became. The effects of deadly fear, which impeded his breathing, prevented him from making auoh way, till at last he bogan to think—'The minister will never break upon the door, and Girzy cauaot climb to the window. They'll jnsti wait till .tie morning, thinking mo poisoned; aud ib. n Davy Dibble will coma to bury me ' With such thoughts for his compmions, Davy marched the whole of the long, dark night; but luckily, aa his sensible mother had never told him of fairies, nor lot him hoar of ghosts, he had no fear of them. And now an unexpected stroke of good fortune awaited him, for at day-dawn he joyfully beheld the farm of which ho was in anarch, and which j ho well knew, though ha was a stranger to | the road to it. ' The gudewife will give ran j my breakfast,' cried he, 'aaci then I'll i get a good sleep in Pate's bad. Oh ! but I j am tired !' ; No ou'a was yet stirring about tho farm house, and as Divy sat musing on the atile, i till the In 11 door would opan, his heart began to fail. ' They'll ha angry at me. Oh, ! I wish I h ii. stayed and been thrashed or \ killed. But 1 muss tell what I did —that I j aio the pi^'s skiu, and then let- him burn, j and then poisoned mysoif. That was a greai j sin Tho gudewife will be angry. Tho j gudeman will maybe thrash me—bub Ij deserve that -I dinna kon what to do. Lord ] have mercy upon me V And Davy again; S ;id trie Load's Prayer, ac I repeated t:ve>:y ! psa'm he kn^ .. • hr. door wis now opened, aud he er^pt i;=-:o a corner of -X:- poich, br. \ feared £0 citor, or iev. biii'!s_i be s^eii. it : was ihe .radswife heraslf saw hiss fivst, iv. ■ she Wflnt i.v ■ «-.' t-bri hjro to m >k sno cr.. r. jls it yon, i.=. -•: ? Wh- ro h»vc y .; I>:o;. a)i : I nigh-, my ra.-.«? Wha^fov have ye ietis tjjo; i bairn?' ctie.d cUj eomiJS.S3J.un-.uo t-auowifu 'Tell me, Davy, all has happened ye.' And

j O.vy told his whole story, most ingeniously, if ana ~:..h .he strictest observance of truth; for he had not been long enough under the cruel discipline of Girzy and the minister to have acquired the slave's vice of lying, and concealing a slight fault by committing a gt'O.-'.'er. Tha gudewife hers laughed in her sleeve when Davy described his cmfortnnate imita tion of Girzy's trio of making fresh skin to a roast; but when he gravely informed her that tha h.i swallowed two bottles of poison | nuder dread of the lash, tho honest woman shrieked on;, and her maid, half dressed, and her husband, came running to her help. 'The poor b.",irn Divy, he is poisoned, gude man— for fear of bring lashed on Sunday last, for spoiling the minister's roast pig, he has swallowed as much poison as would kill a hor™.e.' 'The good Lord be about us,' cried the miid. ' Tell ma how it's wi' you, Davy, my man,' said the galemau, hoping there was soma mistake ; as Davy, chough ragged, dirty, and tired, did not look iiko one at the paint of death. ' Tell me about this poison.' ' It was in two litbla bottles about the length "f that,' said Davy, bkowing his hand, which was not a large one. 'Toe minister 3 fid ':.) me, ' Davy, for your life dinna touch taase boii.es ; '.bey are poison ; but when mo pig wis burnt, keacin' the minister would kill mc when he came ia from the kirk, I just swallowed first one and then the other. 'Che one was as led as blood and vary s.vcet, aid the oilier w.ia R. yellow as a go.au; I foil •. ilaep ;.•.. a- th:v , and I hive dona a gicrs sin in trying to put ban l to rays- -if. i ken that.' The gudamaa had a .-.rawd :;iij;-; vvh-'.fc the. inim. er'j bottles of poison !1;.,t hi i.tiirow-i Dr.vy iu'.o so ion^ a deep mi :h_ be. He halo him compose him aalf. ' You'll not die, fchi. Sima, Davys, my man, bu. ye must sake better care how ye shallow poison again. Mary niiht gie ye ■some breakfast, and then ye must go to bed.' !),->/ did not require two invitations to breukfas-'' ; and tha gudemau and iha gude .vif. consulted Eib.iut whai; wa3 to be done wil-h h. n Thr-y h*.d had shildren of rheir bw;i. r.a I didr.e. like :o hoar of pauls'nment, fcbe . '■•" -r of which drove little boy., to poison !ihem..c!vo3, and run off from their homes. The gud.^m -.n sat down .-:;;•! wrote fco tha mm« istt.r, to inqni.-a, in tho first place, into the t-u'h of t-hii. extrao-dinary story, w_ how, in ho . .'Ore a period, Davy's char.scier arid con duct had ch-mgedsofar for s;'ao --. orse thi.tifc was necessa-y to punish him so h'irshly ev-ry dv The miniver, whom conscience v ■' r id d (or S3 verity to the poor ii__le orphan iad, was, <•»'•■■ the fame time, exceed- Lir.-y offi-tide-i '-r.-'-, the culp-'t had not been se.= B bie:: o his to de.r mare Us. Girzy was .....: -or ii jg:y .--. i. :_d ,o make up the few goods -.nd chat, els of our Bin-id hero iisto a bundle, vvlsieh w:!.8 sent o the gu.den_.an with a me-.sagn, s.iyin ; : ' Tho minhifcer hoped never ■:-.' sea tho wicked, ungr--*fcel!al liji.o rascal's f.;c3 again' 'You never shall,' a»id the angry gad-etna.!. (! : d to. .Una uf.or. springs'from tho dark est source.) Divy'.-j poisoning nnd thrashings . e-o the In „i. .i«2 of his. The _.»dy who had •:;■■ him Lo Lhe manse, now pu. him to i. a;', where, •■< two years, he w Viable to a-s-dst the m?.'i-,w, From .ience ho went to Sdoibu.gh aid -o the office of tin agent of his paviO!ic?s, where ho male such good use of hiti timo and talents that, in ten years :,f_orw; .-•"-, ha wis n partner1 iv the huskies., ■',". • his b'-o!her Peter one <■( the clerks. In ;•( er li fe, a: ot tea aa Mr. David heard of little boyi rebailiug, playing truant, or running away from hamy, ha remembered h'S po.don ing and a.id, th .ra ware probibly more parson.-, in fault than the runaway ; and he would inqaiiv! in-a the aff.iir, .and see justice done Lo the offender.

Martha's Pride.

ny UICHMOKO THATCHER. It was a foolish, idle qunrrol, anrl all arose out of a trivhl thing. J.ob was a bit late up r.nd couldn't find his bo its, and I had been too busy tf&iuln. ready for tho week's wash Lo hava hin breakfast kid, and when ha said he never s;iw rmoh a hou.o for losing things, and went on ibout his mates always being at i,-... claim before him because they could get -heir meals in good time, I got mad, and said it was a pity ha hadn't soma one eiso to bear his ill temper and ba his slave. Than he said ho had i o work hard to keep ma and the baby, and I retorted with something or another, what I don't know, but it was bitter, I romenher well. Then I got his breikfast, and put it down before him with a ban .'. as much an to say,' ' There ; I wish it would choke yoa,' and Jacob me i^, never once looking at b.aby, who was sitting on the floor crowi.g and crying by turns, and ab times clapping its hands to attract 'daddy's' attention. When he had finished, he stood up as if irresolute. I believe be was thinking whether it wouldn't be better ho do as he had dona a score of times before aftora tiff, and coma up and say, 'Thara, Martha, old girl it's all over ; give us a ki3S ;' but evidently tho bad spirit got fciic better of him for be just stood a raoment, tool, his cap stuck is on firmly and s 'v.igfdy, and m-d-a for the door. I had a mind to gat between it and him and say ' A.!, don't Jacob, don't go out in such a tc.m per.' I wi-.s sitting sulkily at the corner of tha tabic playing with a eu. of tea, and eoald sr.si'y have done it, God forgive me, I was wrong, fov my anger was nigh a-1 gone. :md it would.-, t have been a great sacrifice; but when I saw hia tread bo firm and bis mou'h close :■■ hut, I said to myself, ' !\ll right, Ja_>b H 'tinsel', if you er-n be h.gVsnirite. , r.i can I.' and I \eh him go out and down the little hillside without a word. I did peer auxi.isly to s«e if hn would turn to lock iow.rda mo and baby; but :,e m-rcbed on -.-.....(.' .ia ). .-•-.: -i-r on -o-:-.ry. I tboug';t vvls -\ h_:i bo:-'y -i!-e fa -• ■. o> ■& bid by ?__» l-i.'-' '-.•-•:! [-a n thd :;b - side of the creek tha' '.is c ■'< 'ooh .-, t- ; , rs if bis bead were -c '■■-- ' coo, v! our di cc ion. I bono it w.;1?; Si b3 W"J Ido - ,1 -.- - - -,-..\-. .. fl'jt;," hQ v ~<ti. j-. kind.? of his v.-» i.,—his h,vlns> wile —fo- ad the bivcer words. I hava c wondered if it was, and have as often been

EVENING STAR SUPPLEMENT. DECEMBER 9, 1876.