poor thing! she used to be a little quicktempered!" "And I knew nothing of this!" repeated Paul Holton, as two or three of their best wickets being down, the Hazelby players summoned him to go in. "I knew nothing of all this!'' SUNSET. By the Rev. Charles Strong. My window's open to the evening sky, The sombre trees are fringed with golden light, The lawn here shadowed lies, there kindles And fragrant roses lift their incense high. With loud and luscious voice calls down the The book, that told of wars in Holy Land, (Nor less than Tasso sounded in mine ears) Escapes unheeded from my listless hand Again all eyes were fixed on the Sussex cricketer, and at first he seemed likely to verify the predictions and confirm the hopes of the most malicious of his adversaries, by batting as badly as he had Dim waters, flowing on with gentle might, bowled well. He had not caught sight Between each pause are heard to murmur by. of the ball; his hits were weak, his defence insecure, and his mates began to tremble and his opponents to crow. Every • hit seemed likely to be the last; he missed a leg ball of Ned Smith's; was all but caught out by Sam Newton; and East Woodhay triumphed, Hazelby sate quaking; when a sudden glimpse of Letty, watching him with manifest anxiety, re Poets, whom Nature for her service rears, SONG. Lassie, let us stray together, called her champion's wandering thoughts. The Winter's Wreath, Gathering himself up, he stood before the wicket another man; knocked the ball hither and thither, to the turnpike, the coppice, the pond; got three, four, five, at a hit; baffled the slow bowler James Smith, and the fast bowler Tom Taylor; got fifty-five notches off his own bat; stood out all the rest of his side: and so handled the adverse party when they went in, that the match was won at a single innings, with six-and-thirty runs to spare. Whilst his mates were discussing their victory, Paul Holton again approached the father and daughter, and this time she did not run away: "Letty, dear Letty,' said he; "three years ago I lost the cricket-match and you were angry, and I was a fool. But Letty, dear Letty, this match is won; and if you could but know how deeply I have repented, how earnestly I have longed for this day! The world has gone well with me, Letty, for these three long years. I have wanted nothing but the treasure which I myself threw away; and now, if you would but let your father be my father, and ny home your home! if you would but forgive me, Letty!" Letty's answer is not upon record; but it is certain that Paul Holton walked home from the cricket-ground that evening with old John Dale hanging on one arm, and John Dale's pretty daughter on the other; and that a month after the bells of Hazelby church were ringing merrily in honour of one of the fairest and luckiest matches that ever cricketer lost and won. Far from town or tower; Thou and I should meet, dear Lassie! Where the mountain-daisy's blowing Where the rippling burn is flowing There-while ev'ry opening flower As thy smile is sweet, dear Lassie! Thou and I should meet, dear Lassie! KESTER HOBSON. A TALE OF THE YORKSHIRE WOLDS. IN a retired part of the Yorkshire Wolds, stood, some years ago, the Castle of Lounsborough, an ancient seat of the noble house of Cavendish, which had long been in such a state of desertion and decay, that it has lately been thought expedient to demolish it altogether. At the commencement of the great civil war, on Sir Charles Hotham taking possession of Hull for the parliament, it had been, for several years, a place of refuge for several wealthy royalists. For this reason, perhaps, or for some others more valid, a tradition had long prevailed in the neighbouring villages, that many hidden treasures had been discovered at different times, about the house and grounds of Lounsborough castle. The noble owners, of course, treated these rumours with contempt; and never took any steps for asserting their manorial rights, or investigating their supposed claims. About the middle of the last century, the charge of the ancient domain was committed to a man of the name of Christopher Hobson, who, with his wife and two daughters, constituted its sole occupants. The females were employed in keeping the house in decent order, whilst Christopher, or as he was commonly called Kester, busied himself in the gardens and grounds,- -so that in case of an unexpected visit from the noble owners, which sometimes happened, the family were not wholly unprepared for their reception. Kester Hobson was in the habit of spending two or three evenings a week at a small public house in the adjacent village, where a few of the peasants and small farmers of the neighbourhood usually assembled. At the period we are speaking of, many of the lingering superstitions of the darker ages still maintained their ground in various parts of the kingdom, and in none did they keep their hold with greater tenacity than in the villages of the Yorkshire Wolds. At their fireside meetings, the conversation frequently turned on various old traditions respecting Lounsborough Castle; and amongst other legends, equally veracious, it was affirmed that on one occasion, towards the close of the civil war, a band of round head Guerillas, under Harrison, having suddenly surprised the castle, where some Baltic merchants from Hull, of the King's party, had taken refuge, the unfortunate cavaliers had been obliged to bury their money, and having afterwards made a desperate resistance, were all killed in defence of their precious deposites. So strong, however, was the attachment of these worthy traders to their beloved wealth, that even after death, their shadowy forms had often been seen hovering round the obscure places of the castle domain, like the ghosts of unburied heroes on the banks of Styx. Indeed it is well known to have been one of the most deep rooted opinions of the olden time, that if any person had buried money or jewels during his life-time, his spirit could take no repose till the treasure was discovered. It may seem strange to some readers that, at this late period of history, there should have prevailed "such utter darkness in the land, and such gross darkness in the people;" but the author of this little narrative is well assured of their reality. Haud ignota loquor. These oft-repeated and well-attested stories made a deep impression on Kester's nind; and often, whilst sitting alone in his chimney corner, he would muse on these marvellous circumstances, and reflect with bitterness on his own misfortune, in being doomed to live in poverty amidst these countless hoards of wealth, and perhaps, day after day, to tread it under his feet, without being able to reach even a single noble, but compelled to toil throughout his whole life, for a miserable pittance of a few shillings a week. One winter's night, having retired to bed full of these melancholy thoughts, he fell into a deep sleep; and dreamed that a sober, business looking man, with a ledger under his arm, and a pen behind his ear, appeared at his bedside, and, after giving him a solemn and sepulchral look, such as beseemed a messenger from the tomb, delivered a portentous injunction to the following effect:-Christopher Hobson was commanded to depart immediately for London, and when arrived there, was ordered to walk backwards and forwards over London-bridge for an hour, on three successive nights, immediately after dark, during which he would hear of some very important event that materially concerned himself and family. His This vision was so much more vivid, consistent and striking than an ordinary dream, that it left a very deep impression on Kester's mind, and he thought of little else the whole of the following day. But though sufficiently superstitious, yet the expense and trouble of a journey to London, were at that time matter of such serious import, that he could not bring himself to resolve on so perilous an undertaking, ou grounds which he could not help feeling to be rather equivocal. The next night, however, the same visitation was repeated, and in terms and manner still more awful and peremptory. mind now became quite bewildered, and he began to think seriously that an admonition, thus solemnly repeated, could not with safety be disregarded. But on the third night the spectre again appeared, and delivered the same injunction with such an alarming and menacing aspect, that on awaking the next morning, Christopher hesitated no longer, but began instantly to make preparations for his journey. He told his family that an affair of importance, which he could not then explain, required his immediate presence in London; and begged them to defer asking any questions till his return. He next applied to an old friend, a neighbouring farmer and a tenant of his master, for the loan of a steady old horse, which he had sometimes borrowed for short journeys; assuring him with a mysterious air, that he was going on an affair of great importance, in which, if he succeeded, the favour he was now asking should be amply compensated. He then took out from a small secret store which had long been accumulating, a sum which he thought sufficient for the journey; and thus equipped and provided, he boldly set out for the metropolis. Though the autumn was far advanced, and the roads consequently very bad, he arrived in town without any accident, and put up at a small inn in the Borough, to which he had been recommended. Though he had never been in London before, he resolved to lose no time, but to proceed immediately to business. The night after his arrival, therefore, he betook himself to the foot of London-bridge; and as soon as he heard St. Paul's clock strike seven, by which time it was quite dark, he commenced his walk backwards and forwards over the bridge. He continued this exercise till he heard the same clock strike eight; when, having observed nothing more remarkable than the coming and going masses of a busy crowd of passengers, he returned to his hotel. He was not much disappointed at the ill suc cess of his first essay, as two more nights still remained. The second night passed exactly like the first, and he began to be a little disheartened. He commenced, however, the labours of the third night with renovated hope ;--but when he heard the deep-mouthed bell again toll eight o'clock, his spirits sunk within him. With a heavy heart he prepared to quit the bridge, inwardly cursing his own credulity, and the devices of Satan, who, he doubted not, had lured him on this illfated expedition." It may be necessary to remind some of our readers, that at the period we are speaking of, the entire length of Londonbridge was flanked by two rows of houses and shops, and a great retail business was carried on in this singular situation. On one of these shops, decorated by the sign of a Negro Boy with a pipe in his mouth, Kester Hobson happened to cast his eye as he was about to quit the bridge-and it reminded him that his tobacco box was empty; for the necessities of established habit will duly recur, even amidst our sorrows and disappointments. He entered the shop, therefore, with a view of purchasing a small supply: and found behind the counter, an elderly sedatelooking quaker, whose contented and well-fed person indicated the prosperity of his calling. Whilst weighing the tobacco, he surveyed our Yorkshireman with some earnestness, and then in a tone which expressed a sort of good-natured curiosity, accosted him as follows "I have observed, friend, with some surprise, that for several nights thou hast employed thyself for a considerable time in walking to and fro across this bridge, and thy anxious looks seemed to expect something very particular; I am afraid thou hast been waiting for some person who has disappointed thee and failed in his engagement. If any advice or information of mine can be of use, as thou seemest to be a stranger in London, I should be glad to offer thee any assistance in my power." Our hearts are never more warmed than by an offer of kindness in a strange place and amongst strange people. Kester Hobson possessed perhaps a greater portion than usual of that mixture of simplicity and cunning, which has been so often ascribed to his countrymen, but though always a little on his guard, he was not quite proof against this open and disinterested kindness. He expressed his thanks very heartily, but declared he was quite ashamed to confess his business in London, and the nature of those night-walks which had excited the attention of the honest tobacconist. By degrees, however, his inquisitive friend got out of him, that he had, in fact, been deeply mortified and disappointed; that he had expected to meet with a very particular person or occurrence on Londonbridge-and, in short, that he had undertaken a long, expensive, and laborious journey to London, merely at the instigation of a dream. He suppressed, however, his name and residence, from a vague apprehension that such disclosure might by possibility expose him to ridicule, or to some other unpleasant consequence. The quaker heard this strange confession with much surprise, and then replied with great solemnity: "It strikes me with astonishment, my good friend, that a man of thy decent and sober appearance should have come a journey of two or three hundred miles on such an errand as this! I thought such vain imaginations and weak superstitions had long since been eschewed by all men of sense, and abandoned to children and old women. It is deplorable to think that thy parents and instructors did not take care to root out all such idle fancies in early life, and then wisdom might peradventure bave come with years and experience. However," continued he, "it does not become me to erect mine horn aloft, and look down upon the weak and ignorant, because my own lot has fallen in better places. If I have been hitherto enabled to turn aside from all such vain devices, is it not because, having been brought up, as it were, at the feet of Gamaliel, I have learnt from the lessons of a wise father the ways of truth and soberness? And yet," added he, smiling at Christopher; "I can assure thee, friend, that if I have constantly kept clear of all such delusions, it has not been from lack of temptation. I have, all my life long, been a great dreamer; and often my midnight visions have been so express and surprising, that it has required the strong arm of truth and reason to resist their allurements. Even this very last night, I was beset with this temptation. I dreamed that an elderly man, in a snuff-brown coat, with a pen stuck behind his ear, came to my bed-side, and told me, that if I went into a back garden, belonging to an ancient castle in Yorkshire, and dug the ground under the stone seat of an old Gothic summer-house, I should find a great treasure. Now," continued he, with a look of conscious superiority, "if I had been so foolish as thou, I might have neglected my business, and set off on a toilsome journey, in search of this imaginary treasure. Here Kester Hobson, who had thus far thought the good quaker's harangue rather prosing and tedious, began to prick up his ears, as the ancient poets express it; for he was well aware, that there was exactly such an old summer-house as this, in a retired garden, in the grounds of Lounsborough Castle. His countenance betrayed a visible agitation; but fortunately he stood in a dark part of the shop, where the light did not fall upon his face. He could hardly forbear shouting with exultation; but, by a violent effort, he suppressed his emotion, and replied as indifferently as he could, that it was true he had indeed been guilty of a great weakness, but he hoped he should be wiser for the future. It is useless to say that Kester treasured up this momentous information carefully in his mind, and soon after took leave of his valuable friend. "We shall soon see," thought he exultingly, "which of us two is the wiser man in his generation." The next day he took his departure for Yorkshire, and in about a week reached his home in safety. On the very night of his arrival, he dismissed his family to bed in good time, telling them that he had some accounts to settle, which required him to be alone. When the household was all sunk in repose, he took a spade and a lantern, and repaired in silence to the old summer-house. He removed the stone seat, took up the pavement, and after digging about three feet deep, he felt the spade strike against some hard substance. His nerves were all agitation,-but he went on, and soon drew out a large earthen jar, of the capacity of about half a bushel, fastened with a wooden cover. He eagerly broke it open, and found it quite filled with the gold coins of the reign of Elizabeth, James the First and Charles the First. He instantly conveyed it home, and got it safely locked up in his desk without the least appearance of interruption. Kester Hobson's wife was, like himself, famous for prudence and reserve ;and to her, therefore, but not to his daughter, he determined to reveal the secret. They used their treasure cautiously and discreetly, so as to avoid particular remark or conjecture; and he often laughed in his sleeve at the good quaker's sage discourse, and airs of lofty superiority. He thought himself dispensed from making any disclosure to his noble master; for, though a man of fair character, and reasonably honest when temptation did not press him too hard, yet on the present occasion, he thought all he had got was the fair reward of his own acuteness and perseverance. EPIGRAM. FROM THE GREEK ANTHOLOGY (AUTHOR UNKNOWN.) By the Rev. W. Shepherd. Running about his empty house; Literary Souvenir. From the bright stars, or from the viewless air, thought: Spirit sweet spirit! if thy home be there, And if thy visions with the past be fraught, Answer me, answer me ! |