THE fields are all alive with sultry noise Of labour's sounds, and iвsects' busy joys. The reapers o'er their glittering sickles stoop, Starting full oft the partridge coveys up; Some o'er the rustling scythe go bending on, And shockers follow where their toils have gone, Heaping the swarths that rustle in the sun, Where mice from terror's dangers nimbly run, Leaving their tender young in fear's alarm, Lapt up in nests of chimbled grasses warm, Hoping for safety from their flight in vain; While the rude boy, or churlish-hearted swain, Pursues with lifted weapons o'er the ground, And spreads an instant murder all around. In vain the anxious maiden's tender prayer Urges the clown their little lives to spare ; She sighs, while trailing the long rake along, At scenes so cruel, and forgets her song. 39. 1. E When the sun stoops to meet the western sky, Where baskets heaped and unbroached bottles lie, HARROGATE WATER. There are, at Harrogate, four distinct sulphurous springs, which appears to have their rise in a large bog, at a small distance from the wells. The water of all the springs is similar in its properties and its distinguishing characters, but as one of them is more strongly impregnated with sulphur than the others, this alone is used for drink, whilst the other three are employed to supply the baths. When the water of the former of these springs is first taken up, it is perfectly clear and transparent; and sends forth a few air bubbles. Notwithstanding both its nauseous smell and taste, such is the power of habit in reconciling it to the palate, that, after a little while, nearly all those persons who drink this water do it without disgust. Such is the nature of Harrogate water, that a secret correspondence has often been carried on by means of it. A letter written with solution of sugar of lead is illegible; but if dipped into this water the writing will not merely become visible, but, in a short time, will appear almost black. Hydrogen has the property of reviving the metallic oxides : hence also it is that ladies who have used metallic cosmetics have become of a dark tawny colour by bathing in these waters. THE PACHA.-A TALE. BY THE AUTHOR OF SECRETS OF THE CONFESSIONAL,' LTC. Conrad Stettin loved and was beloved by Pauline Vernoni, daughter of the Landamman, and the prettiest girl in the canton of, but the father of the maiden opposed his suit, for Pauline was at the same time courted by a wealthy German count, who had chanced to meet the maiden one day while hunting amid the Swiss mountains, was struck with her beauty, and from that time became a frequent visitor at their cottage. The worthy Landamman, though in his own person the most simple and contented among these children of simplicity, though he went clad in home spun grey, and cheerfully cultivated with his own hand the land he lived on, yet remembered that he had in his veins the blood of a long and noble ancestry, and he felt anxious to make his only child, in whom centred all his ambition as well as love, higher than the lowly peasants by whom he was surrounded. From him therefore the high-born Count of Heidelberg met with every encouragement; but with his daughter it was far otherwise. Pauline viewed her titled suitor with an aversion proportioned to her affection for the young Alpine hunter; and the father, seeing that the count was never likely to grow in favour with Pauline while Conrad Stettin hovered round her like her shadow, and trusting that the absence of the one would render the presence of the other more grateful, at length told the young hunter that it was in vain for him to think of Pauline, since she never could be his: that he considered it desirable for both parties that they should separate; and that if he, Conrad, would not consent to leave the country for a time, his daughter should; and that he left him three days to consider which of the two should depart. The unhappy lover asked but to see his sweet mistress once more before he left his native land for ever. They met-they parted with mutual vows of love and fidelity. Years rolled away and no tidings were heard of Conrad Stettin, and he was soon forgotten in his native village by all save Pauline, who, though entirely ignorant of his fate, and hopeless of ever being his, ceased not to entertain for him the tenderest affection, and internally vowed she would never bestow her hand upon another. Meantime the count's courtship throve no whit the better for his rival's absence; for Pauline regarded him as the primary cause of her lover's banishment; and her father, whose affection for her predominated over his ambition, would not compel her to an union which seemed so hateful to her. At length the count, either tired with dancing attendance on the rustic beauty, or, as he pretended, summoned to the court of the emperor, suddenly ceased his visits, to the great joy of Pauline, and the disappointment of her father. About three years after the departure of Conrad, the Landamman died, leaving his daughter to the care of his younger brother Albert, who had early in life embraced the profession of arms, and still held a command in the Hungarian army, in which he had served with distinction, but who had been passing some months at home with his brother during an interval of peace. Albert Vernoni, when he swore to become the affectionate protector and guardian of his orphan niece, felt half tempted to wish he had not been a soldier, since his dangerous and unsettled profession but ill fitted him for the charge he had undertaken; and of this he had soon but too much reason to be sensible. The Landamman had not long been dead when Count Heidelberg suddenly returned to the neighbourhood, and renewed his visits at the cottage. Pauline earnestly implored her uncle to put an end to these visits, and release her from the count's further importunities at once; and to this he at first readily consented, for he had always been the firm and zealous advocate of Conrad Stettin, and had endeavoured earnestly, though in vain, to prevail on the Landamman to receive him as his son-in-law, and perhaps, like his fair ward, he now entertained a latent hope that his young favourite might one day return to claim a hand which would be no longer withheld from him. But these sentiments were changed almost as soon as uttered by a sudden order to join his regiment on a fixed day, at - from whence it was to march against the Turks. Albert now began to represent to his ward that she ought not to entertain the slightest hope of ever seeing Conrad Stettin again, since, if he still lived, and retained any of his former affection for her, he would not have left her so long in ignorance of his fate. He would, he owned, have preferred seeing her Conrad's to seeing her an empress, but since that could not be, he desired in all cases to have her married; and as the count had proved at least his constancy, he thought she might find in him a good husband, and a secure and constant protector, from whom nothing but death could divide her. He then begged her to contrast her proud and envied station as the Countess of Heidelberg, with the forlorn and unprotected situation in which she would be left by his constrained absence, and entreated her to give him the satisfaction of seeing her established in comfort and safety before he was compelled to leave her. To this Pauline replied, that though she felt it was worse than hopeless to dream of ever being united to Conrad, yet she could not, nor ever should, resolve to bind herself to another; that if it was only a protector her guardian wished to provide her with in a husband, she should nowhere expect to find one truer or abler than in her native village, surrounded by her own and her father's friends; and she declared that, far from being in the slightest degree dazzled by the title of countess, she would not exchange the freedom of her own little cottage for the proudest palace in Europe. The maiden was firm in her resolves; the count was again dismissed peremptorily and definitively, and the anxious guardian having made every arrangement for her comfort and security which prudence and affection could suggest, was obliged to leave his charge, consoling himself with the knowledge that she was among friends as sincere as warm-hearted, by whom she was respected for her father's sake, and beloved for her |