and the wild exclamation, O he has killed my father,' compelled them all to flee; and quitting the wretched 'cause of all his woes, whom he had taken in his arms the moment after he fired, the desperate young man left her alone to weep for ever over the ashes of a parent whom her folly had brought to an untimely grave. She was taken home by her brother. Though the cause, not the perpetrator of the fatal act, it may well be supposed that remorse embittered all her days, and that she must ever have considered herself to be a parricide. To add to the anguish of her mind, and increase the piognancy of her sufferings, the hapless youth was pursued and overtaken; confined, tried, condemned, and executed; and according to the barbarous custom then in practice, hung in chains near the spot where he committed the rash deed. He perished piecemeal, and his bones whitened in the blast; a hideous spectacle to all around, and chiefly to his mistress. To her aching and weeping eyes he was a perpetual remembrancer of despair and grief; and to her terrified ears the rattling chains sounded perpetual knell. Poetry. LINES. TO A SCENE OF CHILDHOOD. The infant eve hath cull'd her dews; Wide nature sinks to sweet repose. PRINTED, PUBLISHED AND sold, Every Wednesday, by WILLIAM TAIT, & Co. › Lyceum (urt, Nelson Street, Where Communications, post paid, may be addressed to the Editor: Sold also by Mr. Griffin, Public Library, Hutcheson St.; at the Shops of the Princi pal Booksellers, Glasgow. ALSO OF THE FOLLOWING BOOKSELLERS: Messrs. Hunter, 23, South Hanover Street, Edinburgh; John Hislop, Greenock John Dick, Ayr; Thomas Dick, Paisley, Robert Mathie, Kilmarnock; Malcolm Currie, Port-Glasgow; D. Conde, Rothe say; James Thomson, Hamilton; and M. Dick, Irvine, for ready ́môncy only. THE DAYS OF MY HAPPINESS. party as they formed the awful ring. Every one applauded the prowess of The recollection of past pleasure, the champion whose cause he espoused. as well as the anticipation of future, is I smile now to think how my wrath sweet and soothing to every mind.— kindled and my courage grew hot, We dwell on the feelings and pursuits while, amid the vociferations of my of childhood with lingering fondness; comrades, I stripped off my jacket and recount our schoolday exploits and dashed my cap to the ground; with boyish exultation. The scene of and how, after all was ready and the our youthful frolics is, thro' life, the tumult hushed to silence, every eye spot dearest to the heart. The won-looked eagerly on, while we advanced derful deeds achieved there, the daily into the dread area, and projected the sports engaged in there, and even the knee, and drew back the body, and petty distresses endured there, are raised the hostile fist. Can I help written on memory's brightest page: laughing at the consternation which and, in after life, frequently perused siezed us, when suddenly the intrusion with delight. I yet feel my heart of the elder Vulcan broke up the tremble when I recollect how I dar- meeting, putting the whole gang, ingly skimmed, the first, over the deep fighting men and spectators, to inglopool, while the newly-formed ice bent rious flight? Great was my fame, and crackled beneath my feet. Every and great my pride, in consequence of one loves to tell what a sad dog he this doughty attempt. At every meetwas in those days. I too have per- ing, for months, the little bellowsformed most memorable actions. It blower and I regarded each other with was I who undauntedly set at defiance lofty and sneering looks, which, being the skill and strength of a mighty black- interpreted, might mean, how I would smith's boy, whose father's forge was have drubbed you had we not been ina notable object in our school's neigh- terrupted-yet to speak truth, neither bourhood. I well recollect how the of us ever display courage enough to field of battle was marked out, and the renew the combat. terms of combat deliberately discussed and agreed to. I can yet picture to myself the anxious looks, and, in fancy, hear the blustering vaunts of either Well the busy happy morning of life fleets rapidly away. The boy soon assumes the man. But there is still one brief hour of enjoyment-one ha liday of happiness ere he launch for when next evening, if the moon shone tion. The affair however was pretty well managed; I succeeded in detaining her till the moon rose, and that was not the last time that we walked farther and talked longer than the occasion absolutely required. Thus far I love to tell my story. The rest is between Anna and myself. Who it was that interfered, and what it was that caused us to differ in opinion it is not worth my while to relate. My little love! we were happy while we walked together; and tho we parted, it was perhaps because we loved too sincerely. I can't forget thee-tho' no more The kiss half stolen sweeter still. To clasp thy little hand, and steal 66 a propensity for this unaccountable stray ranging habit, is a question; of which I shall leave the decision to those who are better versed in the doctrine of principles of action, and the mysteries of habi-acquiring, than I at all pretend to be. Certain it is, that ever since I can remember-and my remembrance carries me back to the time when I was scarce a handspike high," I have not failed to put into frequent practice my sleep-walking functions. Many and many a time have I risen a-nights, and stalked about the house to the infinite terror of all ghost-fanciers and robbery-fearers. Indeed, I have occasionally. met with accidents of no very pleasing complexion: sometimes I have been roused to a sense of being by applying my fingers to the only half-extinguished embers of the kitchen fire; once I was cooled to life by falling, during a wing ter night perambulation, into a large washing tub-full of half frozen waters at another time, I tumbled into existence down a flight of stairs, a passage, by-the-bye, which I would rather perform on my heels than my head any day of the week. Of all the sleepwalking performances, however, that ever were done, what I am now going to narrate is the- "But I' think I hear you exclaim, Mr. Editor, "of what importance is all this to me -to the public-or indeed to any individual on the face of the carth?"Why, 'tis of no importance to any body, but the recital may, notwithstanding, afford some persons a little amusement; and if it should happen to meet with a reader possessing little more than ordinary curiosity, it perhaps might induce him to bestow a little attention upon the curious, and hitherto unaccounted-for, fact of walking while asleep. It was about the middle of last January. The weather was very bois - I home, my astonishment increased. could only account for my situation by supposing that I had walked thither in my sleep-but a walk of six miles, in the open fields, and in a cold night it was incredible! terous, and I was extremely tired; for I had been walking about, amidst the wind and the rain, from eight o'clock in the morning. Just as I passed the Tron Church it struck seven-I hurried on for I was anxious to get home. As I turned the corner of the Saltmarket, I came right against an old crony, Sandy Bain. "Hech, man!" exclaimed he, whar ye gaun ?" "I'm just gaun hame," returned I. "And what for are ye in sic a hurry?" "Troth," said I, I'm just weary an' hüngered I've been fashed wi' a hantle o' messages the-day, an' I'm gaun to rest mysel' an' get my kail." "Come awa, man, come awa, ye'se tak' a stoup o' yill an' a spelding wi' me at the Boot." I thought the offer too good to be refused. We went up stairs, and got a cosey seat by the fire-side. Scarcely, however, were we seated before Sandy, as usual, got headlong into one of his long stories; and I, as usual, even when not so tired as I then was, began to nod. The clack of his tongue, as he told the story, continued, the ale was that night uncommonly composing, the noded that I had lost my hat-where I knew sunk into a profound sleep.- -I not. I was certain however, that I But though I was unable to solve the mystery, yet I was not so confounded as not to perceive that the best way to proceed in-was the way to Glasgow. I accordingly turned my head towards home, and I felt something strike my face; it was, as I soon discovered, the bar of the Toll at Partick, against which I had run : But, good heavens! the place I had just left was full three miles from Partick! How was it possible that I could have passed over such a space, in a length of time which to me appeared not to have exceeded a minute? After some little cogitation, I concluded, from the knowledge of my unfortunate propensity, that I had, wonderful to relate, again slept while walking on the road. The wind continued to blow very coldly, and, upon putting my hand to my head, I discover felt a pain at my elbow I had run had it on when I first awoke on the against a wall. I looked up the road, and it must of course have dropstars were dimly shining about my ped off during the last walk. The head, and the coldness of the wind, hat was too good a one to be lost, and which" blew hallowly by," quickly I determined to regain it if possible; reminded me that I was in the open accordingly, cold and weary as I was, air! How I got there was a mystery I bent, in no very complacent humour a minute before I had laid my head I confess, my steps once more todown upon a table in the Saltmarket, wards Dalmuir. I walked on, and and just then I had knocked it against this time, I walked without sleeping. a wall in the country. Upon looking But my journey was labour in vain, round a little, as well as the darkness for I came to the well-known wall would permit me, I found myself to without seeing anything of my hat be within two miles of Dalmuir! II was vexed at this mischance, but should not have known my situation situated as I was, I could do nothing so easily, but Mr. Collins' Paper Mill, but make the best of my way back to at Dalmuir was one of the places to town.. which I had been in the morning.At finding myself to be so far from I came again to Partick Toll-bar. and upon going to the other side, I |