NEVER PLAYED OUT.

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 13, Issue 1098, 5 November 1869, Page 3

NEVER PLAYED OUT.

CHAPTER III— THE PATBIOIAtf's CONFESSION. (From "Chambers' Journal.") It is true, it is true, that which you have preached to me, that which I believed when I was a child, that which I hare scoffed at as an old wife's fable. All is not over when this machine of flesh and blood stops. When a young man goes to the money-lender, the present pleasure seems so very real, the future burden so distant and intangible, that the idea of self-denial is to him like grasping at shadows, and missing the substance; but pay-day comes, and ruin. " A short life end a merry one," cries the lad ; but the merriment evaporates, leaving the nerves shattered, the body diseased, the heart full of bitterness and misery ; and I feel a conviction that this is part of an inexorable system which extends after we are able to trace it. In whatever direction we seek to probe the mysteries that surround us, we are lost in infinity. Space is infinite, and time, and life. Motion is infinite; the moon revolving round the earth, the earth round the sun, this solar system round another, till the brain reels: is not retribution infinite likewise P These thoughts are new to me ; I but grasp them vaguely, express them crudely, but they burn in my soul. Oh, the innocent hearts into which I have infused the germs of evil ! Oh, the weak ones vacillating between good and bad whom I have drawn devilwards I Repent of my own sins P Ay, if that were all ; but how to account for the eternal wrong I have done to others P And the one great crime which renders my conscience sensitive to the sins which I might otherwise have forgotten, on this side the judgment at least, how can I atone for that P By confessing it to you P No, no ; and yet I have a thirst to do it, a desire not new to me. I have written the details in the form of a narrative, which will be placed in your hands at the same time as this letter. I began this account, of what it was the one remaining object of my life to hide, some months ago, carefully stopping at those details which would criminate me. I have not finished it now even, as I write this ; but I will before you have it ; yes, if my head keeps clear, and my strength holds. Criminate me P What do I mean ? Nothing I could say would do that. But my nerves are not what they were; it is years and years since men first began to notice that I craned at my fences ; and I see visions since that illness. For weeks a young man stood over against me night and day, with a bloody bruise on one side of his head, and a look so pitiful and reproachful, that it was a miracle I did not go mad. Will faces come around one like that hereafter ? I was . what prudes and parsons call wild, I suppose ; not worse, perhaps, than my neighbours, but more careless. I never could think economy anything but mean ; and I confess to having been a fool in money matters. Though a younger son, I had a fair portion, quite as much as any man in my regiment — and I spent every penny of it. Then my elder brother died, and I came into the estates, and soon had them pretty well dipped. To get clear, I married a woman with money, whom I never liked so much as she deserved, for she loved me well,, and stuck to me through everything — ay, to the very last. If it had been left to her, there would have been no settlements ; but her people insisted on my tying up a few thousands for her and her children — she brought me but one, a girl, and died a few years afterwards. I was again involved in money difficulties by that time, so I put Lucy at a good school, and went to the Mediterranean in Lord Plunger's yacht. He was shirking the bailiffs too ; and we cruised about together for some years. It was only in '39 that I could return to England, and then I settled here, and began to look about me. There is a deal of marsh-land on the estate, and I had a mind to try draining a part of it, as many landholders have done in the county, to the great improvement of their property. But there was no capital to start with, and Marl Hill would not stand another mortgage ; so then I thought of Lucy's money, which was lying idle in the funds. The estate is not bound to go to the male branch, but will come to her after my death, so the tied-up capital could not be laid out better for her than in reclaiming this fen. One of the trustees was dead, and the other very ill at the time— only had a bit of one lung, people said ; but it seems to have grown again, for he has got better, they tell me. He was living in Devonshire, and there was a difficulty about communicating with him, as also about the transaction altogether ; there always is in such matters, I believe. However, it was got over, and a part of the money was withdrawn, and applied in the way which promised to be so much more advantageous. There was not much to start such an undertaking with ; and I had to begin in a small way, and do it cheaply. I found a man named Bradley, who professed to understand draining, and bargained with him to keep a party of five men at work on the place most favourable for a start ; and they built some wooden huts on a dry spot in the marsh, so as to live close to their operations. Whenever he had an opportunity, Bradley was to add to the number of his workmen, so that sometimes there would be ten or twelve employed, but never less than five. The draining did not go on fast, but then the wages paid were very small ; the truth being that Bradley and his gang carried on more profitable business, and found working for me useful as a blind. Tins got suspected, and the fellows were called " Holcombe's Rough uns" by their own class, "Holcombe's Ruffians "by mine. I got rather a bad name amongst certain people ; but what did that matter to me ? Everybody is liable to that. Bradley's gang were a bad lot, no doubt. They drank a good deal of spirits, to keep off the ague, and were suspected of brewing their own medicine. They were clever poachers, and never got caught ; they kept up communication with vessels in the Humber, and made use of a small but navigable stream about four miles off for smuggling purposes. Some very queer fellows hid for awhile in those wooden huts sometimes, I daresay. But I do not preserve, and hold no office in either the Excise or Customs, so I got my draining done cheaply, and asked no questions. Lucy was too old to be kept at school any longer, so I sent for her to the Marl ; and a few days after her arrival a man named Naisley, the son of a Louth lawyer, who has bought land near here, and wishes to be thought a county gentleman, saw her, and fell in love with her. Naisley is rich, and the marriage would hare been a good thing on that account ; but besides that, he knew all the rights of the difficulty I had had about that money which was tied up by settlement, for he was still a sort of sleeping-partner in the legal business, and the firm had transacted all my affairs, so that Naisley had opportunities of makinganyinquirieshechose,andsuspected something not quite right. I had reasons therefore for taking up his cause pretty warmly ; but there was a difficulty. As I was not on good terms with any of the distant branches of my family, there had been no one to receive Lucy during her holidays, and I had wade

arranjgements with the schoolmistress to let her remain with her all the year round. But when the girl grew into a young woman, she formed romantic friendships with other girls, whose parents asked her to their homes ; and when the matter was referred to me, I saw no reason to forbid her accepting such invitations. On one oi these 1 visits she met a young man, who fell in love with her ; and when Naisley began to .shew her attention, and I backed him, she told me that she was engaged to this lad, who was a Cambridge undergraduate, and would not be in a position to marry probably for years. It was annoying ; but I took it for granted that she would soon get over this girlish fancy, and made light of it at first. But the more I reasoned, the more she pleaded j and she would hardly treat Naisley with common civility. Then I lost my patience, and spoke harshly ; and Lucy, who was very different from her mother, grew more obstinate as I insisted. Matters might have gone differently if she had respected me; but how should she think much of a father who was constantly drunk? Hardly a day passed without some violent scene ; and in a short time we felt a positive aversion for each other — for I have always come to hate any one who opposed my will, and my feelings towards her reached almost as far, though she was my own child. I judge of her sentiments to me by her shrinking, as if she expected a blow, whenever I came upon her unexpectedly. ; In the summer, during the long vacation, her lover came to Lincolnshire to see me; and, learning from his own mouth that his patrimony was but a small one, I told him that I had other views for Lucy ; that I disapproved of long engagements ; and finally I forbade him to hold any-fur-ther communication with. her. He left the house without saying whether he would obey me or not, but hung about the neighbourhood, and Contrived several clandestine interviews with my daughter before I discovered what was going on. Then there was a quarrel, and blows were struck, though I confess that he was as forbearing as possible, and only threw me to the ground in self-de-fence. Still I hated him for it— hated him keenly and personally now, not merely as the cause of my plans being thwarted, and my safety endangered. I caused Lucy to be closely watched after this, for if she eloped with this Godwin, who must now look upon me as an enemy, he would make enquiries after a time about the property secured to his wife by her mother's marriage settlements. So, while her lover was in the neighborhood, I kept her a close prisoner in her own apartments. Soon after this Naisley became pressing, and almost threatening, affecting to suspect that I was playing him false, and not doing my best to force Lucy to listen to him. Early in the following November, I went up to Lucy's room one morning, with the intention of trying what conciliation would do, now that it was evident that she could not be compelled. She had been writing, and as I entered she closed her blotting-book on the letter. After talking quietly for a little time, I alluded to this, and expressed a hope that she was not corresponding with the man who had made use of personal violence towards her father. Then she made a false move ; had she remained quiet, it would never have occurred to me to examine what she had been writing ; but she darted towards her blotting-book, and so roused my suspicions ; and the next moment, in spite of her struggles and despairing cries, the letter, which was finished and signed, and the envelope, which was directed, were in my hands. She was accustomed to put on a quiet, protesting, persecuted-heroine air in her interviews with me ; but now she fell at my feet, and clasped my knees, imploring me not to read what she had written. By which, of course, I knew that it was very important that I should do so ; and when she found me determined to disregard her entreaties, she went into hysterics. A glance shewed me the purport of the letter. I then rang the bell, and told the servant to remain with her mistress till she recovered, and to lock the door upon her on leaving the room. Then I went to my private room, and studied the letter. Where could a young girl have got such boldness and such invention P It seemed that this lover of hers, Godwin—to whom of course, the letter was addressed — had endeavoured to persuade her to elope with him on one of those occasions when they had met in the summer ; but that she had refused to take so serious a step, urging tliat he himself would think the worse of her afterwards for it. She now alluded to this, in order to own that she had been wrong ; my tyranny, as she chose to call it, had become insupportable. I was determined to force her into marrying a man she positively hated. Then followed her reasons for thus hating Naisley, which shewed considerable power of discerning character, and she positively appealed to her lover to come and save her from the cruel fate I designed her. But the most astounding part of the letter was the cunning and carefully studied plot which she had framed for the evasion. She knew that Godwin could not come undisguised into the neighbourhood without my receiving early intelligence of it ; so she directed him to dress himself as a navy, and demandemployment of Bradley. Men on the tramp to or from Hull often took a spell of work on my fen ; and his making a similar application would, excite no suspicion, or even particular attention. She was to disguise herself as a peasant, and they were to meet at a certain spot at eleven o'clock at night, and go off wher-' ever he chose. Nothing was forgotten ; she calculated the first possible night of his arrival, and said she would be at the appointed place on that, and if he were not there, on the next, then the next, till he came. She gave him a pass-word; told him the times of arrival and departure of the ferry-boats from Hull to the nearest town on the Lincolnshire side— in short, the whole thing might have been arranged by a Leporello or a Figaro. I was nearly mad with humiliation and rage when I had read that letter carefully through. What had I said or done to drive an innocent young girl to plan and write it ? Something probably inspired by drink and fear, which I remembered nothing of now I was sober. I cursed myself for my folly ; I cursed Naisley, who had goaded me to it ; the girl herself; and above all, this man, who had interfered to thwart my plans. I had spoiled this one scheme ; but could I always make sure of equal success in the face of such method and such determination P Yes, if I could keep clear of drink ; but drink was as necessary to me now as air. I went up to the fire to throw the letter into it, when suddenly a thought came into my head— clear, distinct, inspired by the devil. Instead of burning the letter, I put it into the directed envelope, sealed it, rode over to the nearest .village, and posted with my own hands. Then I visited the place where the draining was going on, called Bradley into one of the huts, and— — No, I will write down what I said to him when I have told everything else. Not yet, not yet. But I swear, and I know that I am a dying man, that I did not intend that to happen which did.

A week afterwards, I saw : Lney^fo? A first time since the daythat I intercep.ted her letter, and told her that her determined opposition to my wishes had at length convinced me that they would, not tend to her happiness, and that I was ready to give way in anything, rather than drive her to so disgraceful a step, as an elopement. If this marriage, which she had so set her heart on, must [take place, let everything be done decently and without scandal. She should no longer be imprisoned or watched, but might correspond with her lover, and even tell him that I was willing to let by-gones be bygones, and see him, if he still continued iv the same mind, and would come to the Marl. ■.•■•.-■,.- Ah, that burst of gratitude! I have led a hardening life, but my heart is not quite seared ; and it was an agony to hear her self-reproaches, her promises of filial duty, and her auguries of a happy future — an agony to see her step lighten, and the flush of health come back. to her cheek ; for I was a traitor, and I knew the sickening disappointment which was in store for her. , She wrote, and waited for an answer, which never came. She wrote again— a third time — still no response. ; . She sickened and pined; her eyes seemed to grow preternatnrally large, and were turned on me at times with alook of mournful inquiry which was haunting. I can write no more now ; lam giddy ; the letters are confused. To-morrow. CHAPTEB IV.— -THE PLEBEIAN'S CONFESSION. I read the first part of this unfinished manuscript, left for me by the man who now lies dead at the Marl, as the mere raving of a brain disordered by drams, till the name of Godwin caught my attention j and then a comparison of dates shewed that this improbable story tallied exactly with our friend's mysterious disappearance, and I could not doubt that he had met with foul play. I write calmly now : but I was thrown into a terrible state of excitement at the time. The confession was incomplete, and he who had volunteered it could not write another line or utter another word. . , lam sorry, my dear Brown, that", you ~ cannot come here to pay me a visit at present, and I own that your reasons are valid ; but had it been possible, you would have been of the very greatest assistance to me. I knew you would feel the interest you say you do, and I will send you a continuous narrative of my success or failure in tracing what I fear will prove the' last footsteps of our poor friend. The first thing will be to find this Bradley. Of course, it will be impossible to speak to Miss Holcombe till after the funeral ; and if her late father's account is to be trusted, it would be inflicting needless:, pain to trouble her with the subject at all, except that she could confirm or contradict the various statements in that account .of which she has cognizance, and so enable us to judge of its general trustworthiness. Three weeks have elapsed since. Major Holcombe's funeral, and I have strange news for you. I will not enter into the minor details of my proceedings, but leave them to be talked over when we meet, and confine myself now to results. I did speak to Miss Holcombe as soon as it was decent to do so, and she was much overcome on hearing that I had been poor Godwin's friend. It was also a great shock to her to learn that her late father had sent the letter he took away, which she was sure that Godwin had received, because the later ones had been returned through the dead-letter office. It was not an easy matter at first to gain any tidings of Bradley, so I went to Hull, and put the matter in* the hands of the police there, and they were able at once to trace him, as he was undergoing a sentence, of imprisonment at Lincoln, to which town I proceeded. Then it appeared very doubtful whether any magistrate would commit him on a charge of murder, with no stronger evidence to go upon than the obscure hint of a man whose brain had been disordered ; but Bradley, whose nerves seemed shaken by confinement, was so alarmed at the idea of such an accusation hanging over himj that he volunteered a confession of all he knew about the matter, which was taken down in writing, and here is a copy of it. That there gentleman as came to the Marl Pen in November 1840, murdered P Don't you believe it, sir ; he weren't no more murdered than you are. I am an unlucky beggar, and always was, but to get into trouble along of having done toe a, bloke, as for all I know is a-eating of his dinner comfortable at this present moment, is too bad, it is. — Ay, I know Major Holcombe thought he was dead ; I let him think so for a reason, but bless yer, it was all kid. Ask Bill Blazer, Joe Xeggs, Lushy Noggins, or Abe Snarem; ask Captain Blobber of the Slosure.~How was it P Why, this is how it was. I was digging in the Marl Fen one ar» ternoon along with my mates, when the major rode up and called me j and when I got to him he beckoned with his head, and said low like: "Come here," so that I should go up quite close. So I did, and put my hand on the horse's neck like, and he bent a little and said : " Bradley," says he, " I know, of course, that you and your mates would not drain my land, at the price you're a-doing of it unless you found the situation, and the excuse for living in these out-of-the-way huts, convenient. Well, that's nought to me," says he ; it's a mootooal advantage, and I'm not a-going to see you fall into a trap for want of a word of warning. The custom-house people is arter you ; they've got an idea there's a bit of running done in these parts, now and then, and that Holcombe's rough uns have summut to do' with it. And there's a spy a-coming to-morrow, or the day arter ; he will be dressed like a. navvy, and come to you to be took on at the draining, so that he may live in the huts here, and find out every thing. Be all friendly and mate-like until he gets the chance to betray, you, you understand P" " Thank ye, major," says I ; " now we shall know now to make him comfortable. He shall have a pleasant evening, and I daresay he will Be in a hurry to come back for another." "Well, Bradley," says he, "money ain't plentiful here, but I do so hate a spy — special when he comes a-interfering with my workmen — that I think I could . find a ten-pun note somewheres if he got a warning to mind his own business done clever, so that there ain't a noise about it." When the major spoke of paying, I saw . he was up to a game, so I says : "If wo should make a mistake, major, . and we found afterwards he were not a preventive at all, that would hurt our feelings uncommon, and you would make it fifty, then, wouldn't you ?" „ "P'raps I would," said he, and rode away. Well, I explained the matter to my mates, for there was only us five reg'lar ones working at the time ; that is, .1 told them a preventive spy was coming, and kept the idea that the major might have a grudge against the chap to myself —there warn't no call to speak of that. We agreed what we'd do: that were, to receive him; friendly and Unsuspicious ; get drinking, and start a quarrel, quite priimiso'oushkef,' and then give it him stifiish— all under seeming of ft pleasant quiet fight,' and no malice,

I.thmfc it), > WovTWi'l wolt Bss the book to the fi«^af ( d^ssl3d f l^evjKJnafVy, sure enough, fott^'lie'd^sniallJ deliytk -hands,- mudded 6ve*>a^Mci#'/attd' i he weren't used to the Jk^vyubMtc3i©''df;oh{ for^his steps didn't dSSg.I He 1 ' a«ted,' Ms v ;part very : well, tySgh r sKt down ! an&> blew rhis baccy an&' -offered' to- stand a cbtipja of gallons ta w>t his footing.o .-Mrftere* ain't '-p publio r nearer nor a fatfg^i o'&miles^ worse luck;" says Joe ■J£eggß.'<x>- hiihj'.- v; .-■ ■'•■.•"'•'', ; ; '"i^Miitett't you got a drop of something hati&f, itt ; r st66k, : - as- it !^were P" says' the strkflger 5 -; and Isaw'myMates look queer ;£6 4^tVit~m&4e 'em feel sartain this were i&e preventivespy. • ' . ', "Well," says Joe, " there is a couple 6 hdttles-o' «tuff:which was sent to us from ihd Marlv-iilUase one on us should feel a toutofithe^heumatios coming on." L;:«.iLet's-haW r 'em," ; says' the j and We dtd. (;i^But he tried to Bhirk drinkikg^hiSself, iand that made an exousefor a {jtarrel. u: y '■ LV -'-' ■'' ' :: '*•• ' ;r ; . ■ ! '*l*m'n6t^oing to deny that that stranger got^B(>m6tEitig Fopi' Kimself ■;' two ( of my mates had drank, as much as" they could ct<i With, : slhnißh«id r him^Diore than we tseMiti^MA^ixiais theitthe major came down, and haa 1 alook into the hut ; none ititbhe mnersjitWiggea ! him, but I did. He tad fce^ifiliilkhin^ pretty frieei as he always diditand 4 'suppose f couldn't keep away. Sut'he''lot>kSd"pr'edious 'soared at whathe ga^ati^iie^eit; it ; pretty wiell sobered him. THe'atoanger was>lpngoh'the floor of the hut, face uppards, senseless, with a i^a^yv place pn- his jtemple.-.He did look iincopipion dead sure-ly. But he warn't, ; 'a Mt. ; When the major was g6ii'e JLi and tl ne only held the- door: ajar; g'tftfc' a'lobk inland- was off^l washed the dhap'* bruises^ madehim 1 tidy with a hankercher rdund his head. And then we himMa^tri'ck. ! 'The' day before, Oiptißloblaof, of 'the Slosore^-which is a whaler, arid he lj*r skipper— comes to me, and V- " Db ; yott' know dtie Jack Sherks, who. lives hereabouts? Because H9 ftanie tb'in'e.arid engaged himselfi and I Mve i liim ri an. I ''advahce' to clench the bargain^ toi'j^ sail'^ on Saturday, ' and he hfestt't' turked up ii" J ' Nowy I'kmiw Jack Sherks well enough, .and IJ that v h'e!aidn ? i? mean to in the SldffdW. {tte'd'been'a 1 whaling once, and didn'imuch ; 'lifceit;'.but beiiig dowh on Mslu^k, 'hß engaged to Captain ßlobber, atld tteii Heard '&xXL of ' sbmethihg Ke Hked bStterrand' Vas 'hiding, till the ship was off... But l< wasn't g^ihgtolsplit 6n an old pal, ! for Jiack land I' had done a little together in ; th'e; smuggling way ; so I says : .^lYOj'rWe.n'ii se'eri him lately ; but if I a<>, Til b^inghiitt if I can." '■■■ "Iff "3fod;'.jrdli" says ; he, "I'll reward yoil han^bmei'for'rm Mi short of hands. O^i£%ft ! firing-mei J any^ p'tlier sailor^ and |nerW^a|i!y : ;Ms; ; a r; fehil here'abbuts," says He; ! Kiritirig" delicate' at my character |6rf pm^tit'^iMmi' "Til make it tyQvisfpi& r wffl&" ''' •"■' ' ' <( ■/■.•■ ' l( i'i^,nked ; Mm, and said I'd do my best, ii& r fss6fo's6iiji it till that nigh'tiwhen if|rai|l was; a-lying stupid on! the adorpf th^Hut. It , was, Friday, and the Slostit^saileii'next day^ for the wind was fesM( e: ;:^feitt' Blobber had only set &jti3B ioii ' Jafefe J! B!herks ' once, and couldn't 5 s^'the ttick I thought of ¥as^^ to r tkk^ ihis sfcranger down to Gfninsby in°4 ( spr%igiteart' l knew how to. get the Iqaft ofj, and see if we could get him ship- : for JTateE we fetcfied the cart, ana. put |1;he l stranger into it. Ho had ißome'rOtihd a bit, and . groaned now and lii^n^li&^diiln't 'know where he was, or wXa^^^were ; .dbing with him; and we gptiumtp Grrimsby, wHere I found Oaptiai&.Biobbfer, at the house where he told me ask -for him. I said that, I had met Siify. „at! a public disguised as a M^vv-y^aiid he.ha,d got /drunk and been r tfeng^and a knock on the head, but Jididn\thmk it would be much, so I had bjr^ug^thimV The skipper got a lantern aM'c^me outside the town where the cart had been left ; "and when he looked at the man's head and felt; it, he said he would be 4fi>i|;h{i for a cut; lii;e that in a day or two, an^he ,s^as,' 'so* short;. .of- haii(is he'd take ]$Wi^ : .''QQ^e i gqp iiia'. boat and took him abpard,s,hi^at Ojncej.and the Slosure sailed iip^fide^;. and that's the last I ever heard o4ifre;Matjfe|r.! Every .wo?d as I've said is the ■truth',' so kp]j> me. ' .. .. Mqyr dqes^this story of. Bradley's sound jr^^^ , I cprifess that I am inel^ieq.'t^^bpliwe; it. Credo guia — it is inip^bßalbie Vth,e. ( > ;iiaan' could never have inT^nj;e§ a ,^e so circumstantial. Besides y/id^OL,^ , na.v ( e' ( ; made inquiries, and a whaler^^i^unM Captain John S^bb'^rj'^dicL sail from G-rimsby on Satur7y 184fi|. The fact is easily Teri]|edi!.^^e^aus'e it ..'made, a considerable stir, in th.e,,»eighbourhood at the time ; for the.,,BoM ( wha)ey;3. generally start for Qreentj^din the spring and return in the au^unn... ' r ißyfc Jiohn Blobber had some private dodge of ,iiis own about wintering in, an i uncomfortable proximity to the north pole, ( and securing the first of the fishing whejiith^ ice' ,bVoke, A chosen party, who had^madei: seyeral ordinary trips with miHx his ,yiews; : but it was a Small j>ne, and he had considerable difEctlty_^aj getting outsiders to have anything fo 7 dV ! witli] s,o ;wild a ;proeeeding as starting^nqr)ih^ar4i.at that. time of year. This wpuld ; accpunt tor his rash adyance of ni^oney to - the fi^ebpdied; seaman 3herks, and also for his taking him (as he suppos^) on. board though he was temporarily (jiaiaWe^. V ); .. '■ ■-■ ■•■••.• \ ■. v, \hxe. 'inorq .point adds to the credibility of pr,at.anyrate, throws a.d^culty jn the, way of disproving it : t^eJlojßure, alas for pur poor friend!; has nev^rrb^ett^ard of since; i ( '.; " i '■' ______ ■ ■ - : '...*//■ 11' : 1 '•' ' . ■ ■ ■ :. '. .- . TBUMPS P ' "X^^'^ill jbe sdrp^ise^d to see my handvmtisg*jigsii}, xriy ; dear Brown, so soon aitef Sy li fi^t f bu3geti' especiWly as there is aP^&c^'^fHWs^letter'^rossing one of yours'dfi ; iH^Wad,^iidybiikn^ my pb]^fiotfik> J iti6h abiyidents. J 'But you expres8 £ sb m'tlch. anxiety to hear the latest particulars of anything which may throw WkvM^oi^hi't disk^pearatice, that I ■mitftitt 'tijoti & !^y 'without sending ybtffctf'pt/wha't hka^ happeried. Miss HblWbe^'noft bIM hetself up, orpro- . fessed any great grief. on account .''of her i^fi deatHi .^She, feels that madness feeen ; "far [greater an evil, tl^ili^'MiapX evenfis evidently a relief tp f 'He^toMi. tU df course, She has regrets, that; her i'ajher ittiglitjha^ebebonle * ierprmed,' and given up^iiJ ; Haßiis ! pf iktemp^rahce, il he , had 3^cpVeif^d l Si^'h(Balthh'; but still I fancy tMtiueHs tpp strong a conviction that »pmfeW^s toekU^he! bther way for W^^ "^Wl l k >'% P n s^}^ :'ori^ ; ..l do ifot ffija|rstan'a^^miicK v ab6ut the. laws of my ppuntry, and fanoie'dj that land always , '■•tS^W%ioi But' wha^lifajor Holcombe said 19. hi§,confession is. Quite correct, it Spgms~hgM(stiJ^]U[y^a^ the power of leayi^j|jM^ppJo;.'Hw. daugliter by will, and h&sficin^sp,! ' '%.& !&ss!}& jus.t ,'pf age <, therer fgre^.^^^|s^^r3fe^; f t^ of a JjOß^^an^an estate,, ilipfh half in ruins, agct requiring a .vast amount of care and ISMM?MSi *$ '^??^^S^V.^nile' she is so ,^%l^fim^W fr $f*^< s s? htyfe- , U ,P to

perfect oracle. . Common, sense toL ijj that she^ought to >ye , some m 6therl|miadle.aged]lady r a: ; widow *£ C hoice4u the house .ifith b*V i-w&*9 .g£ saw the propriety of that, I looked abc, *t, and secure! a Jomfortame, sympathe Jg dame, the relict of a clergyman, poor ay £ without [encumbrances,- who was giatt , , ; accentthe position of ohaperon and Uc. mestic economist, v . So soon as matters were thus m _a mea . sure settled, Miss : Holcombe redoubled her efforts for the improvement oi ttte poor around her ;,forshe was able to spe^d a little money now, while at the same time she felt her responsibility as an owner ot the soil in ; addition to » desire forborne end and aim to live for. -9^ ¥^?£L and blankets have been distributed ,- the infant school is: a permanent e ß tab jlisn^ ment ; and she even entered into a little fancy I had for dressing *P the , c^ for Christmas,'^The edifice js so dull and gloomy that •I am always lot W»g. fo * «J power of paintihgJit np-a bit, . dearj^ the Horrible old' pews, and so • getting nd of that gloomy air of depressi on which 1 fancy seems to affect the spirit; * ot every parishioner whe enters it. Horn *«;*;■"[ utterly unable to do anything p ermanent myself, ; but • I- thought a little tt >m P or JS cheerfulness might be infused c■ w» place in honour of the u»t 01 Christian festivals. Plenty -of laurel, holly/ and red berries could by 9 aa for. nothing ; >nor were children wans ihg wlio entered into the spirit 0. t tne thing, and were deHglited to bring ™ c evergreens to the. church; the only ™' sideratum was the,taste to arrange th» sm, and for this I had to appeal to Miss H <»- ppmbe, and her new companion, Mi s - Wing. They answered readily enough •'• the younger lady brought originality ; thy 9 elder,^experience ; I, superior strength and a longer reach. . , It was past three o'clock m the atternoon, and our task was fortunately apprpaphing completion, for the light already began to wane, and the snpw, which was falling in large soft flocks, silently gathered over the windows, and obscured it stiii further. The two ladies were at the east end of the church, putting the final touches to a bower of mistletoe which festooned over the marble medallion of the late Sir Timothy Wetherbel, Bart.—as if any one was likely to want to kiss Mm ! , " One little bit more holly for the reading desk, and I think we shall do,' said Miss Holcombe ; and I went to the church porch to select a bough from the heap which had been thrown there. The door stood ajar; on swinging it open, I saw, a sailor standing in the- j>orch, peering through into the interior, ana supposing that he was attracted by curiosity, I told him to go in if he liked. "We are smartening up a bit for Christmas'* said I. ' He made no reply, but looked me steadily in the face. "Is there anything the matter? I asked. "Am I wanted ?" "What's trumps, Stacey?" he said} and then I knew him. "Hush!" whispered I, grasping his hand. . " She is in there. She has lately lost her father, and"— — Before I could finish my sentence, there was a rustle behind me, and Miss Holcombe, who had heard and recognised th^e first tones of the sailor's voice, stood in the doorway. She gave a great gasp, and fell almost senseless in Godwin's arms, to the great surprise of good Mrs. Wing, who had followed along the aisle to see what was up. I explained the state of the case in a few hurried words; and then the sympathetic matron began to cry. JEtylas Godwin rather marred the impressiveness of the scene by staggering under the weight of Miss Holcombe, who is a very fine girl, and sitting down on the holly : having tight sailor's trousers on, he got up again pretty quickly. You must positively come now, Brown, ' and hear Godwin's yarns. Ho has been catching whales and exploring countries which are all hummocks and bears ; and he has lost two toes from frost-bite, and been shipwrecked, and travelled half dyer the globe before he could get here. ■And of course he will marry Miss Holcombe as j soon as it is decent ; for she does not mind j his being a toe or two short, not she. He will write to you in a day or two, for he wants you to be another witness to his identity, as he has been reported dead, it seems, and has certain formalities to go through to get at "his own property. Whether he will complete his college : career in the legitimate manner (" make 1 his exit 8.A;," he calls it), is uncertain, for he doubts whether he could pass after i three years' estrangement from classics ! and mathematics. Just as I was closing ; this, your letter came in announcing your '; intention of coming to see me at last. You : will have to sleep on a sofa, as Godwin has : taken possession of the bed reserved for you, but you will not mind that! Come ; along, old fellow : I wish Thorpe could be i here too. Why, we might finish the 1 rubber !

Had Him Thebe. — A darkey in Natchez was boasting to a grocer of the cheapness often pounds of sugar he had. bought at a rival store. "Lot me weigh the package," said the grocer. The darkey assented, and. it was found two pounds short. The coloured gentleman looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, '", Guess he didn't cheat dis child much ; ; for while he was gettin' de sugar, I stole two pair of shoes." ; OuT It.— lf a bird can sing and won't sing—what's to be doneP " Why take it to a chirop-odist !"— Fun. . ■ ' Wanted to ,Know> — As in Scotland &' butcher is termed a." flesher," might not a backer be termed a " loafer ?"