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swept over the moorland. But Neme- zhall us do?" was the burden of the sis: lies in wait for the peasant, and old man's complaint, as he sat in the sooner or later, unless he is greatly be- chimney-corner in the long autumn loved by the gods, he has to succumb. evenings watching his wife, frail and There are few men who brave nature worn herself, as she knitted unceasin all her moods, day after day, that ingly. she fails to conquer at last.

Zairey kept a brave front to him. It One memorable Friday, when


was only in solitude that she was abwas near his seventieth birthday, he ject before the approaching shadow. was at work on the highway when a “The Lord'll provide, Jim. We've bin sudden storm of rain was driven up blessed in the world's goods far, from the sea. It was the open moor- and the Lord'll provide.” Zairey's land and there was no shelter, and he tone was cheerful, and Wold Jimmy's went quietly on with his work while ears were dulled and could detect no the rain drenched him through and quaver in it. through. But he recked not of it; for "The things be gwain, my maid,” the years he had laughed at the weather. old man would say in a pitiful attempt The cloud passed, and the sun broke to face the possibilities. forth with cheery warmth, and he “Don't 'ee grumble now. We've the reached home “only a bit dampish.” cow and the heifer and a vew pounds On the Sunday morning he was taken left. P'raps the Lord'll zee it to take with a shivering fit, and could not go us boöth at oncet avore it be all gone. to church-the first time he had missed Don't 'ee worry." for a dozen years. After dinner, sit- Jimmy looked at his shrunken arms ting, as was his custom, in the arm- mournfully. “And I was zo strong as chair near the fire, he turned pale, a harse avore I took thik cold. Just a and, rising up, staggered out, saying wetten, zame as a score ov times, and he had not milked the cow. Zairey now zo weak as watter. The ways ov followed him, and found him clinging things, the ways ov things! If we can to the pig-sty. "He felt a bit 'mazed,” get through the winter wi' what we he said.

have p'raps they'll take —" With a strength born of fear she got “Do 'ee be quiet and don't 'ee him up-stairs and put him to bed. He trouble.” lay unconscious for six weeks with in- “Iv it should come to that flammation of the brain, and when at Jimmy stopped and cast a fearful look last he was convalescent, he was but in the direction of Suckton. At Sucka shadow of the sturdy road-maker, ton was the place of “Damnation.” It and with a weakened mind that alto is ever the skeleton at the peasant's gether failed him at times.

banquet. He never worked again. Husband Zairey laughed. “The bemoanen and wife had been harmoniously fru- ways ov men! What pore creatures gal, and behind a loosened brick in the ye be! Just 'ee repeat the twentygreat chimney was a purse containing third Psalm, Jimmy Manney, and let thirty pounds. But the sickness, with that be sufficient vor 'ee." its consequent expenses-Zairey would Zairey did not break down until she have died rather than plead poverty to was alone. She had

“Damnathe doctor when his bill, "eight pounds tion" when it was yet farther off, and fifteen shillings,” had to be paid-bad she sent one oft-repeated prayer up to made a great hole in it. When Jimmy leaven: “May it please 'ee, Lord, to had been an invalid for a year there ze fit to take we boöth togeder thease was but a few pounds left, and Zairey winter." suddenly realized that she was an old The spring came and Wold Jimmy's woman whose natural force was fast arms were more shrunken still, and abating.

his gait was a feeble totter. Asthma "What zhall us do, Zairey? what had racked him all through the winter,


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and had left him another goodly stage those whom a fate worse than death nearer helplessness. Zairey came was to befall, and it seemed as if the through the winter with the burden of position was reversed, and Zairy was many years added to her load, and the endeavoring to comfort them. Lord had seen fit to take neither of "But 'ee'll vind it hard,” Mrs. Pointhem that winter. She comforted her- ton repeated. "Pore Wold Jimmy'll self with the thought that graves were vind it hard down to-there. You'll dug in the summer likewise.

not be better thought of becos you've In the following summer they sold paid vor it zo long. It be ter'ble." the cow and heifer and their front “Zo it be, zo it be, ma'am," chimed room furniture. The proceeds carried in the old man in his pitiful quaver. them through the winter and the "Strong, and worked hard. And my earlier days of spring. They were strength went like watter-like watvery near to damnation now.

ter, ma'am.” Mrs. Pointon, Mrs. Grantumen, and “There, don't 'ee trouble, wold à few others went to condole with the man," said Zairey with a laugh. "As old couple. The same fate might be 'ee haven't been able to smoke lately, theirs, for aught they could tell, with not haven bacca won't hurt 'ee, and as the feebleness of old age, and the blow for beer, why, 'ee can drink watter that felled another produced in them and think it zider." a tremor of disquietude.

The visitors left, sorely puzzled, and Mrs. Pointon, for one, shed tears before nightfall all Barleigh knew of over them, and the old man lifted his “Wold Zairey's" indifference. Nobody skinny arms. “It be wonnerful, could believe that there was any perma'am, what a spell ov sickness do,” son in Barleigh who could face calmly he cried in querulous treble. the woeful ignominy of

the work, “Thease was mighty pow'ful a yer or house. two agwone. It be hard, ter'ble But Zairey had other words and anhard!”

other face when her neighbors were “And why shouldn't us?” Zairey gone. “My man, my wold man,” she said pertly, when “Damnation" was cried in a tempest of agony, “we be named. “We've paid rates and taxes come to the workus at last. We be reglar, zo reglar as clockwork, vor disgraced at last, my man.

We be nigh vorty yer. We've paid our share, gwain to the workus. And we worked and we've a right to the best in the hard-nigh vorty yer—and zaved-and workus. When we've paid why held our heads zo high-the workus at shouldn't us have the benefit? We've last vor 'ee, wold man." paid vor others, and we've paid reg. “Don't 'ee take on, Zairey," said the lar."

old man soothingly. “I be strongish “We knows 'ee have a right to it, yet, and there be work to be had. and to zomethen a zight better,” said We'll zell the cow.' Mrs. Pointon. “But it be ter ble hard Zell the cow? What cow? Didd'n vor 'ee both, that be what

zay, we zell it last yer—and the heifer too? after liven togeder man and wife zo We've nothing left, nothen but the long. And to go ther and be parted at workus.” last! It do zim hard."

She passed the night sobbing and “I baint zayen it be pleasant and a crying, while the old man, whose keen vurst-rate plaäce, like

was days of anguish were gone, slept gwain to the zquire's; but we've paid peacefully at her side. But the next vor it. Nobody can up and zay, “You morning, when she went into the vilhaven't a right here," zeën as we've lage to make her last purchase at the paid vor it times and agen!"

grocer's, she met all condolence with The visitors looked at one another the same brave words. with a mournful shake of the head. "Workus! why should us care? It They had come to offer sympathy to baint as iv we be paupers. We've


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paid rates and taxes vor vorty yer, workus be the best. And I hopes, and we've a right to the best in the ma'am, that vor all your kindness to workus. Why should us min), zeën as we, you may vind home in the we baint paupers ?

workus when you gets wold.” The following Monday was the day The district visitor looked

up fixed for the sale of their few house sharply. But Zairey's look was all inhold goods, after which they were to nocen sympathy, and not a shade of make that last journey together. The irony was to be detected. “Yes, yes, district visitor called, at the vicar's Mrs. Manney,” she said hurriedly. request, on the preceding Saturday, “Whatever-whatever the Lord calls and was greatly relieved to find that me to. And now I must be going. I there was not a hard task before her. shall come to see you on Monday.

Yours is quite the proper spirit, There are two little tracts here which Mrs. Manney,” she said with smiling I am sure will do you good. This one, graciousness. “The union is food, and "A Meek and Lowly Heart,” is very shelter, and comfort to those who are suitable, very suitable. The vicar will obliged to enter it, and, as you say, be pleased to hear that you are will you have a perfect right to its privi- ing to look upon the matter in a proper leges.”

light. Good-afternoon, Mrs. Manney, “Mrs.. Manney murmured, “Yes, and never forget that all is for the ma'am,” very meekly, but her eyes best.” gleamed.

“Good-avternoon, ma'am. And may “And,” went on the district visitor, the Lord bless 'ee. I veel zure that her imagination on fire with the po he will—vor thease avternoon.” etry of the picture, “they take such

Zairey took up the wooden chair on care of the poor aged folks in Suckton which the district visitor had been Union. Books! and papers! and a seated, as if it were reekiug with lovely Christmas dinner! and ladies to nameless horrors, and having carried read good books to them! and a clergy. it out into the garden, threw few man to preach to them! and such a nice buckets of water over it. Toen she dress! It really distresses me when

carefully swept the floor, keeping time poor people are so misguided as to ob- to the words, “May-the-Lord bless 'ee.". ject to go in the Union. It is an insult And then, having done, she sat down to the good kind people who find the and cried and sobbed again. money to support it, and besides, it is The district visitor reported to tlic disobeying the Bible, which tells us we

vicar that she had been to

the are to be content in that state to which Manneys. The old man took little noit has pleased God to call us. Union! tice, but Mrs. Manney was in a very why the very word itself is most

proper frame of mind, and was quite beautiful one.”

cheerful at the thought of the Union. "Yes, ma'am,” said Zairey, a little It was a pleasing contrast to the ungrimly.

thankful behavior of most in the same “And you will have old people like circumstances. yourself to talk to, and you will be as

I am

very glad, Miss Geal. I happy as the day is long. You ought feared there would be a storm,” said to be really thankful that God has the vicar.

I hope the neighbors chosen such a place for you."

won't go and upset her.” "Yes, ma'am, zo I bevery thank

"I hope not,” said the district visful." Zairey was looking out of

“It is quite cheering to me to window, and in her mind's eye find one of these poor families who Suckton Workhouse in all its beauty. can take a rational view of the matShe shivered a little, but her tone was ter.” quiet and grim. I should ha' been pleased iy the Lord had zeen fit to take Mrs. Manney was up early on the we togeder, but Him not doen zo, the Sunday morning. “Get up, ny man,”



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she said to her husband, “we be time avore we come to Barleigh again gwain to church thease marnen vor very likely.” the las' time, my man, the las' time. The vicar passed and complimented P'raps iv we pray togeder in the them on being so cheerful and church the Lord 'll zee fit to take we signed, and then, after some bandtogeder at once. The las' time, my shaking, they left the churchyard. man; on'y another day where we lived Mrs. Pointon made them come in as zo long! On'y another day!"

they passed her house to “have a bit “We'll gwo togeder, Zairey,” said Ov somethen,” ana I had my first and Wold Jimmy, “and I'll zeek vor work last glimpse of Mr. and Mrs. Manney. in the marnen. Have 'ee milked “I'll call and zee 'ee to-morrow, thease marnen?

called Mrs. Pointon, as they went It was more than a mile to church, down the garden path. and a very tiresome journey. Wold She told me all about it after dinner. Jimmy could only drag himself along “It be strange, zur, but Wold Zairey by the aid of his stick and his wife's allus did have a dread ov the workus, arm. But she was sublimely patient, and now she be like thease, zo ed it was for the last time.

as pleased because they be gwain They were a strange-looking couple, there. It do be strange, zur.” and their appearance did not spell tragedy. Zairey had put on her silk Mrs. Pointon startled me about ten dress with its wide skirt-a treasured o'clock the next morning by rushing relic of her former greatness-and her into my room, and after saying, “Oh, best bonnet, that was new twenty zur!” bursting into tears. years before. It was only on special “Oh, zur-Wold Jimmy and Zairey. occasions that she adopted that COS- She have been hiden it vrom we all. tume—the black silk was too elegant It have druv her mad. Oh dear! for ordinary wear. Time was when “She smothered Wold Jimmy last that black silk had excited the envy of night wi' the pillow, zur, and then she her neighbors, a black silk being the hang herself on the stairs. Varmer hallmark of prosperity. Wold Jimmy Wenton's man Zam vound 'em thease was dressed in his broadcloth, which marnen when he went to help with the had been his Sunday uniform for fif- things. Oh dear! teen years, and in which he looked “And avore she did it she wrote it all like a lord, Zairey had often remarked. down in chalk on the table, and why Now it hung on his shrunken figure she did it. And she hided it vrom we like an empty sack.

all. God help us, zur. I wish there The old

slept through the were no workhouses." greater part of the service. Zairey I saw Zairey's last message, chalked looked dejected at first, but after in great printed characters on the time sat upright with a smile on her table. It ran, “We baint gwain to the face. She had found comfort in the workus, I shall kill my wold man and service.

myself, and zo the Lord will have to When the service was over she got take we togeder. The furnisher will up to go, but sat down again, and, bury us. No workus vor we. Zairy presently, led her husband up to the Mandey." altar to take communion together. It

ORME AGNUS. was for the last time.

When it was over they took leave of acquaintances who lived at a distance, and Zairey tossed up her head "as pertsome as when she was young

From Macmillan's Magazine. maid," said Mrs. Grantumen.

PHILOMELE. All who can will 'ee come to zee we Of the two sisters the eldest, Marth' morn?” she said. “It'll be a long guerite de Vieilleville, was evidently



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the favorite. We are told at length of shapes. In such a press it was only to her manifold perfections, together be expected that the

mortal with those of the young d'Espinay, should step down. Mademoiselle de her gallant husband, whose debonair Vieilleville was no startiing beauty, encounter under the walls of Boulogne we are fain to admit. It was not for with Lord Dudley's eldest son (neither her to vie with the dazzling goddessyoungster being yet out of his teens) like splendor which radiated from set every kerchief fluttering. The Madam Marguerite of France, to Royal Servitor devotes at least a dozen stand in the light of that other goldenpages of his painstaking manuscript haired beauty of Catherine's court, to elucidate the rare virtues, tran- Madam Mary, the young Queen of scendent beauty, and incomparable ex- Scots. Nevertheless, she possessed cellence of this fair daughter of this her own naïve charm which lingers illustrious house of Scépaux, whereas still, like the scent of a rose plucked her younger sister, Philomèle, he dis long ago and left forgotten between misses in as many lines. To be sure the covers of Maître Carloix' musty the honors are not niggardly dealt out old document. The dry leaves in that brief space, and we learn with fast falling to dust, yet even now, as pleasure that our heroine, like Charles one fingers them tenderly, there comes of Orleans's mistress, was gentle and wafted back the faint sweet aroma of good and fair. She was, moreover, of the queen's garden at Fontainebleau. a pleasing modesty, accompanied by Who knows but that we hold that very so much grace and youth and fair rose of a morning celebrated by Roncourtesy, and a voice heavenly sard? sweet (in harmony with her name) Mademoiselle de Vieilleville shared that no one could desire better.

at least in one accomplishment with And what better could

desire, the peerless Queen of Scots: she sang Or so at least it would seem until in the sweetest of voices to the accombrought into contrast with those other paniment of her lyre. For the rest, dazzling portraits of the time, sketched fancy pictures a slight young French by courtier pens whose extravagance girl, delicately pale and gracefully their grim Huguenot critics do not fail shy, like many daughters of her race, to fall foul of. “Not sufficient,” say Brown or black the tresses (as we they, "for these glutton courtiers and imagine) which mademoiselle wears, fulsome flatterers, the comparison of brushed off her smooth white forehead their idols to things terrestrial, such as and caught back through a fillet of roses, lilies, coral, ivory, pearls, and pearls after the fashion observed in so on through the whole floral calendar portraits of the time. Brown her eyes and lapidary's stores, but they must also, under their long lashes, and clear needs climb high heaven, rifle the sun as any child's. Yet think not to read of his rays, the moon of her silver at a glance this seeming transparency, disk, and steal colors supernal from rudely

the hidden the morning orb, which in their heathen thoughts, motives, hopes, and fears gibberish they style the aurora. Wax- which garrison young Philomèle's ing bolder, nothing now remains but white bosom behind her stiff gold-emto pass beyond, and trespassing upon broidered bodice and ruff of Flemish holy ground seek out their blasphe- lace. mous hyperboles amidst the Very Was she, in point of fact, that fair angels, archangels and saints in enthusiastic girl whom we invoke for glory!"

the honor of maidenhood? Or must Of a verity, to believe those high- one accept literally the account flown panegyrists, the courts of love handed down by our chronicler (with and

beauty over which Queen Cath- some apologies to be sure), of a cold erine de Medicis presided, must have coquette, wise and worldly beyond her been fairly besieged by celestial years?

And there is still the other



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