for courage of old and faithfulness yet. The old man endured all this; but he endured it with a fixed determination of look. The Honeycomb came up and whispered, "What's the matter with my father? He has on the very look with which he gave Ann her six score sheep and her six pieces of silver." "I care little for his looks, my love," said the husband. "He will be wise, and he will be clever, and he will be master and more. When a cur loses its teeth, it is not worth keeping; and when an old man loses his gold, he is not worth caressing; and that's so like a proverb that it may serve the purpose of one." Our old worthy rose soon after this and went out, nobody knew whither; and it really looked as if nobody cared.

On the day after the old man's departure, one of the servants came breathless in and cried, "Preserve us! the Tower will be burnt to the ground; there's a smoke o'er its summit as thick as a blanket;" and close at the servant's heels came a messenger who summoned the Honeycomb and her husband to the presence of old Hugh of the Tower. "Come fast," he added, "for something awful is about to happen."

Birkbog and his wife went and found the old man seated in his Tower, as pale as death, as motionless as a statue, and a bewildered light glimmering in his eye. His daughter Ann was kneeling beside him, his left arm was lying about her neck, and his trembling fingers were pressing her bosom. He signed all to come around; daughters, sons, domestics, and neighbours thronged in, and one woman held up her grandson and said,

K

"Look at him! that is the unwise old man, who gave all to one child and left nothing to himself." A person stood beside him with paper, pen, and ink, and to this purpose the old man spoke: "Write down what I say. I Hugh Edomson, called Hugh of the Tower, with a spirit crushed by the cruelty of my youngest, and a heart almost burst with the kindness of my eldest daughter, yet sound in mind, make this my Will, to which all present are witnesses. To my faithful child Ann, whom I called a Bitter Gourd, but who has proved a Honeycomb, I bequeath the Mains of Mossop, with ten thousand sheep, and this box with five hundred pieces of gold. I was thought poor, but behold I am rich; I was thought weak in mind, I shall be found strong in spirit. To my daughter Ellen, who was as the apple of mine eye, and who wound herself like a serpent round my heart to sting me and rob me-she whom I thought a Honeycomb, but who has proved a Bitter Gourd, I leave six silver coins and a father's

"

He sank down. The half formed word, which should have concluded the sentence, was lost in his expiring groan. No one's heart throbbed so sorely as that of Ann, and no one wept so loudly as Ellen. But whether the latter mourned for the death of her father, or the loss of the Mains of Mossop, was not distinctly known.

THE TRAVELLED MONKEY.

A MONKEY Whom the glassy brooks
Had put in love with his good looks;
Fair in his race, wise in his kind,
Of open paw and liberal mind;
To whom all lore which sages teach,
Like ripe nuts, hung within his reach-
In short, a prodigy of wit,

A kind of Nature's lucky hit;

Left his wild palace in the wood,

The untrod hill, the unploughed flood,

The unplucked fruit and unpruned tree,
And went his brother man to see.

Is it not blazoned in records,

How long he lived 'mongst two-legged lords? The nuts thrice in their husks were brown, The eagle's brood three times had flown, Three times the leaves had left the trees, Their cells three times had filled, the bees, And three times bright and three times black Had nature been ere he came back.

These lines are copied, word for word,
From ape and monkey land record,
A kind of natural nick-stick made,
Like score and tally of Jack Cade.

Suppose three years are flown then. See!
Yon high green hill and broad green tree;
Yon shaggy and dishevelled forest,
Where nuts are brown and plums are hoarest,
Where fountains glide and gush the sheenest,
Flowers sweeter smell, and grass grows greenest;
Where sings the wild bird loud and louder,
Deer browze nor dread the smell of powder,
Nor arrow whistling from the nerve-
Of lordly apes 'tis the preserve.

I'll change my tense. Five monkeys rambled
There at their will, made mouths and gambolled;
Spun round, turned topsy-turvy, run
And chased their long tails in the sun :

Cracked walnuts, then with smothering yells,
Fast shod each other with the shells;
Or staid their mirth and gravely sate
Like five sworn counsellors of state,
Who heap on debt and build on taxes
To keep old earth firm on its axis.

Now there came to them, patched and painted; All padded, puffed, and stayed and scented; All naped and caped, and cuffed and curled,Our Monkey who had seen the world.