But no! ah no! 'twas by no means so
With the fair Lady Jane,

Tout au contraire, no lady so fair,

Was e'er known to wear more contented an air;
And-let who would call-every day she was there,
Propounding receipts for some delicate fare,
Some toothsome conserve, of quince, apple or pear,
Or distilling strong waters,- -or potting a hare,-
Or counting her spoons, and her crockery ware;
Enough to make less gifted visitors stare.

Nay more; don't suppose

With such doings as those

This account of her merits must come to a close;
No-examine her conduct more closely, you'll find
She by no means neglected improving her mind;
For there all the while, with an air quite bewitching,
She sat herring-boning, tambouring, or stitching,
Or having an eye to affairs of the kitchen.
Close by her side,

Sat her kinsman MacBride,

Captain Dugald MacBride, Royal Scots Fusiliers ;-
And I doubt if you'd find, in the whole of his clan,
A more highly intelligent, worthy young man;
And there he'd be sitting,

While she was a-knitting,
Reading aloud, with a very grave look,

Some very "wise saw," from some very good book,—
No matter who came,

It was always the same,

The Captain was reading aloud to the dame,

Till, from having gone through half the books on the shelf, They were almost as wise as Sir Thomas himself.

Well it happened one day,—

I really can't say

The particular month;-but I think 'twas in May,

'Twas I know in the spring-time, when nature looks gay," As the poet observes, and on tree-top and spray,

The dear little dickey birds carol away,

That the whole of the house was thrown into affright,
For no soul could conceive what was gone with the knight

It seems he had taken

A light breakfast,-bacon,

An egg, a little broiled haddock—at most

A round and a half of some hot buttered toast,
With a slice of cold sirloin from yesterday's roast.
But no matter for that,-

He had called for his hat,

ith the brim that I've said was so broad and so flat,

And his "specs" with the tortoise-shell rim, and his cane. Thus armed he set out on a ramble-a-lack !

He set out poor dear soul !—but he never came back! "First dinner bell" rang

Out its euphonous clang

At five-folks kept early hours then-and the "last"
Ding-dong'd, as it ever was wont, at half-past.
Still the master was absent-the cook came and said, he
Feared dinner would spoil, having been so long ready,
That the puddings her ladyship thought such a treat
He was morally sure, would be scarce fit to eat!

Said the lady, "Dish up! Let the meal be served straight,
And let two or three slices be put on a plate,

And kept hot for Sir Thomas."-Captain Dugald said grace. Then set himself down in Sir Thomas' place.

Wearily, wearily, all that night,

That live-long night did the hours go by;
And the Lady Jane,

In grief and pain,

She sat herself down to cry!

And Captain MacBride,

Who sat by her side,

Though I really can't say that he actually cried,
At least had a tear in his eye!

As much as can well be expected, perhaps,
From "very young fellows," for very "old chaps."
And if he had said

What he'd got in his head,

'Twould have been, "Poor old Buffer, he's certainly dead "

The morning dawned,-and the next-and the next,
And all in the mansion were still perplexed;

No knocker fell,

His approach to tell;

Not so much as a runaway ring at the bell.

Yet the sun shone bright upon tower and tree,
And the meads smiled green as green may be,
And the dear little dickey birds carol'd with glee,
And the lambs in the park skipped merry and free.-
Without, all was joy and harmony!

And thus 'twill be,-nor long the day,-
Ere we, like him, shall pass away!
Yon sun that now our bosoms warms,
Shall shine-but shine on other forms;
Yon grove, whose choir so sweetly cheers
Us now, shall sound on other ears;
The joyous lamb, as now, shall play,
But other eyes its sports survey;

The stream we loved shall roll as fair,
The flowery sweets, the trim parterre,
Shall scent, as now, the ambient air;
The tree whose bending branches bear
The one loved name-shall yet be there-
But where the hand that carved it? Where?

These were hinted to me as the very ideas
Which passed through the mind of the fair Lady Jane,
As she walk'd on the esplanade to and again,
With Captain MacBride,

Of course at her side,

Who could not look quite so forlorn-though he tried.
An "idea" in fact, had got into his head,

That if "poor dear Sir Thomas" should really be dead,
It might be no bad "spec" to be there in his stead,
And by simply contriving, in due time, to wed
A lady who was young and fair,

A lady slim and tall,

To set himself down in comfort there

The lord of Tapton Hall.

Thinks he, "We have sent
Half over Kent,

And nobody knows how much money's been spent,
Yet no one's been found to say which way he went!
Here's a fortnight and more has gone by, and we've tried
Every plan we could hit on,-and had him well cried,
"MISSING!! Stolen or Strayed,

Lost or Mislaid,

A GENTLEMAN;-middle-aged, sober and staid;
Stoops slightly-and when he left home was arrayed
In a sad colored suit, somewhat dingy and frayed;
Had spectacles on with a tortoise-shell rim,

And a hat rather low crowned, and broad in the brim.
Whoe'er shall bear,

Or send him with care,

(Right side uppermost) home; or shall give notice where
The said middle-aged GENTLEMAN is; or shall state
Any fact, that may tend to throw light on his fate,
To the man at the turnpike, called Tappington Ge'e,
Shall receive a reward of Five Pounds for his trouble.
N. B. If defunct, the Reward will be double!!

"Had he been above ground,

He must have been found.

No; doubtless he's shot,-or he's hang'd,—or he's drown'd! Then his widow-ay! ay!

But what will folks say?

To address her at once, at so early a day!

Well-what then?-who cares !-let 'em say what they may."

FF

When a man has decided,

As Captain MacBride did,

And once fully made up his mind on the matter, he
Can't be too prompt in unmasking his battery.
He began on the instant, and vowed that her eyes
Far exceeded in brilliance the stars in the skies;
That her lips were like roses, her cheeks were like lilies;
Her breath had the odor of daffy-down dillies!—
With a thousand more compliments, equally true,
Expressed in similitudes équally new!
Then his left arm he placed

Around her jimp, taper waist-
Ere she fixed to repulse or return his embrace,
Up came running a man at a deuce of a pace,
With that very peculiar expression of face
Which always betokens dismay or disaster,

Crying out 'twas the gard'ner-“Oh ma'am ! we've found master!!"

"Where! where ?" scream'd the lady; and echo screamed "Where?"

The man could'nt say "there!"

He had no breath to spare,

But gasping for breath he could only respond,
By pointing-he pointed, alas!-TO THE POND.

'Twas e'en so; poor dear Knight, with his "specs" and his hat. He'd gone poking his nose into this and to that;

When close to the side of the bank, le espied
An uncommon fine tadpole, remarkably fat!
Ile stooped--and he thought her

His own;-he had caught her!

Got hold of her tail,—and to land almost brought her, When he plumped head and heels into fifteen feet water!

The Lady Jane was tall and slim,

The Lady Jane was fair,

Alas! for Sir Thomas !-she grieved for him,
As she saw two serving men sturdy of limb,
His body between them bear:

She sobb'd and she sighed, she lamented and cried,
For of sorrow brimful was her cup;

She swoon'd, and I think she'd have fallen down and died,
If Captain MacBride

Hadn't been by her side

With the gardener;-they both their assistance supplied, And managed to hold her up.

But when she "comes to,"

Oh! 'tis shocking to view

The sight which the corpse reveals!
Sir Thomas' body,

It look'd so odd-he

Was half eaten up by the eels!

His waistcoat and hose,

And the rest of his clothes,

Were all guawled through and through;
And out of each shoe,

An eel they drew;

And from each of his pockets they pulled out two!
And the gardener himself had secreted a few,
As well might be supposed he'd do,
For, when he came running to give the alarm,
He had six in the basket that hung on his arm.

Good Father John was summoned anon;
Holy water was sprinkled and little bells tinkled,
And tapers were lighted,

And incense ignited,

And masses were sung, and masses were said,
All day, for the quiet repose of the dead,
And all night no one thought about going to bed.

But Lady Jane was tall and slim,

And Lady Jane was fair,

And ere morning came, that winsome dame

Had made up her mind, or-what's much the same,Had thought about, once more "changing her name," And she said with a pensive air,

To Thompson the valet, while taking away, When supper was over, the cloth and the tray, "Eels a many I've ate; but any

So good ne'er tasted before !

They're a fish too, of which I'm remarkably fond,—
Go-pop Sir Thomas again in the pond,---
Poor dear!-he'll catch us some more."

MORAL.

All middle-aged gentlemen let me advise,

If you're married, and hav'nt got very good eyes,
Don't go poking about after blue bottle flies.
If you've spectacles, don't have a tortoise-shell rim,
And don't go near the water,-unless you can swim.

Married ladies, especially such as are fair,

Tall and slim, I would next recommend to beware, How, on losing one spouse, they give way to despair; But let them reflect, there are fish, and no doubt on't, As good in the river, as ever came out on't.