THE TICHBORNE DOLE. HAT time Plantagenet the king Was wading through his troubled reign; At Tichborne Manor, day by day, So long her bed had been her lot, And four white walls her only scene, It may be she remembered not That skies were blue and meadows green; But visions of a world more fair Had often cheered her spirit there. And she had learned that rank and gain The naked, hungry, sick, and blind Her husband, Roger Tichborne, Knight, Across Death's darkly-rolling tide; "What wouldst thou, wife?" Sir Roger said. "I crave, my lord, a piece of ground, To furnish forth a dole of bread, As often as this day comes round; 'Twas long ere Roger Tichborne spoke, Then seized he up a smoking brand, And, half in earnest, half in joke, Said, "I will give thee so much land As thou canst walk around to-day, While this pine candle burns away." "Done with thee," said the noble dame; "Put by thy brand till noontide hour; And though I am but weak and lame, It may be God will give me power To feed the poor this day with bread, For ages after I am dead.” From hall and cot the neighbours went She stood before them old and bent, But youthful fire was in her heart; Said all, "The Lord direct her feet! Was ever one so brave and sweet?" A minute's pause to think and pray, And raise on high her thankful song; And now the saint is on her way, From utter weakness made so strong, That she, who scarce could move a hand, Goes round a goodly piece of land. And one may yet, without the walls Of Tichborne Park, behold the placeA field, wide-acred, named "The Crawls," Where Lady Mabel, in her grace, Left for awhile her dying bed, Sir Roger Tichborne lifts his eyes, So much amazed, he cannot speak; The half-burnt brand before him lies, The colour mantles in his cheeks; While mutters he, "By'r Lady's name, Had ever king a grander dame?" And from that hour, the Tichbornes lost Through court and camp, was hid awhile; 'Twas ever so— No poor man wrong, If thou wouldst have thy castle strong!" THE DEAD TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF ZSCHOKKE. BY THE REV, B. W. SAVILE, M.A. CHAPTER I. FRIEND of mine-he was called Waldrich-had scarcely left the University two years, and had been employing himself as supernumerary and unsalaried junior barrister in a provincial capital, when the Holy War agitated all Germany. The object was the emancipation of the country from the yoke of the French conqueror, and a pious zeal, as every one knows, took possession of the whole nation. "Freedom and Fatherland" was the war cry in every town and village. Thousands of young men joyfully flew to the standards. It was a question of the honour of Germany and of the hope that the Land of Hermann would perhaps awake to a nobler existence, under a lawfully constituted state of things, more worthy of this civilised age. My friend Waldrich partook warmly of this holy zeal and noble hope. To be brief, he took a polite leave of the President of the Courts, and chose the sword instead of the pen. As he had not yet fully attained his majority, and having no father or mother living, and money being in every case essential to travelling, he wrote to his guardian for permission to join the campaign for his country, and solicited a hundred dollars for his travelling expenses. His guardian, Herr Bantes, was a rich manufacturer in the small town of Herbesheim, on the Aa, who had, it might be said, brought him up, although Waldrich had only lived in his house as a boy before he went to the University. Herr Bantes was a queer, whimsical old gentleman. He sent him in reply a letter with fifteen louis d'or in gold, the contents of which were as follows:-"My friend, when you are one year older you may dispose of yourself and the small residue of your property according to your own pleasure. Till that time I beg you to put off your campaign for the Fatherland, and to apply yourself to business, that you may one day get some situation whereby you may earn your bread, which will be very needful for you. I know my duty to my departed friend, your late father. siastic fancies, and become steady. single kreutzer, and remain, &c." Have done with all your enthu- The fifteen louis d'or wrapped in paper contrasted strangely, but not by any means disagreeably, with this letter. Waldrich would have been long in explaining the difficulty, and would perhaps never have done so, had not his eye glanced upon the bit of paper in which the money had been enclosed, and which had fallen on the floor. He took it up, and read :— "Do not be discouraged. Embrace the holy cause of suffering Germany. God protect you! is the prayer of "Your former playfellow, "FREDERICA.” This said playfellow Frederica was none other than Herr Bantes's young daughter. Heaven knows how she managed with the sealing up of her father's letter. Waldrich stood enraptured, more delighted with the heroic heart of the young German girl than with the gold which Frederica had enclosed, probably out of her own savings. He wrote immediately to a friend in Herbesheim, enclosed a few grateful lines for the little girl (forgetting that the little girl in four years' time might be somewhat grown), called her even his German Thusnelda, and betook himself proudly, like a second Hermann, to the Army of the Rhine. I have no intention of circumstantially detailing Waldrich's Hermann-like deeds. It is enough that he was in his place when wanted. Napoleon was happily dethroned, and sent off to Elba. Waldrich did not return home like the other volunteers, but consented to enter as lieutenant in a regiment of the line. Life in campaign pleased him better than behind the piles of deeds and papers in a dusty office. His regiment took part in the second campaign against France, and at length at the final close returned home, with drums beating and songs of triumph. Waldrich, who had fought in two great battles and several skirmishes, had been fortunate enough to escape without a single wound. He flattered himself he should, as a defender of his country, receive in preference to others some civil office as a reward. He was much esteemed in his regiment for his amiable qualities and many acquirements; but as regards the situation, it was not to be had as soon as he hoped. There were too many sons and cousins of privy councillors and presidents, &c., to be provided for, who had been prudent enough to allow others to fight the holy war of freedom, and remain |