THE strange story, which Granny Dunn Here the conversation ended for some had told Peggy Cross made an extraordinary time. All the day they travelled without impression upon her mind, and before alcessation, except when Granny stopped at lowing the old woman to retire to rest, she houses on the way for alms, saving Weeny gathered from her several particulars relatthe trouble of asking any thing for herself; ing to her discovery of the foundling, which

Peggy had some preparations to make before setting out on her search; she had a few papers so long hid in a secret spot to collect, which she tied up and put in her pocket; and there was a wedding ring, real gold too, which she drew from a little box, and placed upon her own finger to carry it safely; together with other little tokens of the past which had been confided to her keeping years ago by one very dearly loved, all of which she conveyed away on her person unknown to M'Govern, to whom she did not wish to confide more than was necessary just at present. Making inquiries every- WE return to Weeny and her aged comwhere, they learned that Weeny had been panion. Although a man much beloved and

respected for his benevolence and upright own wretchedness, she could think of nothcharacter, John Carolin was yet considered ing else. Her father's infamy, and the sepa little eccentric. Since he had come into aration from her lover, which she determined possession of his property, one room in his should be forever, were dwelt upon all night house had always been allotted for the use in anguish. No tear came to relieve her of any wanderer who might be in want of a burning brain: all was scorching, burning night's lodging; and to prevent any risk misery. No wonder that she was ill next from thieves who might apply for such shel-morning-her head throbbing, her limbs achter under false pretences, the individuals ing. She could not rise from her bed; and who arrived at night were generally locked Granny got permission for her to remain up in their sleeping-room, and the door under Carolin's roof for that day. The hours barred on them to prevent their egress till passed hazily to her; excitement had given morning. Granny Dunn, however, being place to stupor, and she lay in a state of well known for years, was not subjected to demi-consciousness that could not be called such indignity. She and Weeny were given repose. Evening came on, and then a a warm supper before retiring from the heavier stupor, with rare flashes of wakefulkitchen, and the latter did not wonder at ness to passing events. Figures gliding her companion's admiration of that "full noiselessly in and out of the room, a glare house." The profusion of food, fire, and of candlelight seeming occasionally to incandle-light was marvellous; yet there was crease to the intensity and brilliancy of fire only great plenty, not waste. Large flitches-confusion of brain-dimness of perception. of bacon and well-smoked hams depended Is it a dream, or does a familiar and dearly from the kitchen roof and filled the ample loved face really bend over her in that sick chimney; the dairy was well supplied, even bed? Do tender hands smooth her pillow? at that inclement season, with milk and but- does a motherly voice whisper words of enter; and there was no lack of beef or mutton in the larder. Clean and airy were the rooms of the house, some being even carpeted and neatly papered; and an old-fashioned book-case, filled with quaint volumes, adorned the parlor.

Carolin was a wealthy man. He drove his jaunting-car or rode a well-fed horse whenever he chose. He had travelled abroad, and brought new agricultural fashions into his country; yet he was not contented. A blight had fallen upon his youth, and he passed a lonely, desolate existence-sometimes envying the happiness of his poorest workmen, who, after their daily toil, saw merry faces round their humble hearths.

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When the travellers entered their sleeping room, Granny imparted to Weeny various pieces of information relative to their host's past and present life, telling her, in whispered tones, how it was reported in the neighborhood that he had married when only gossoon," and that the girl he chose was a poor servant girl, one Ally Cross, who died while wandering about begging through the country, because his father, who did not know of the match, sent John away to England; and the poor girl was afraid to say she was his lawful wife.

dearment to her-words which she vainly strives to answer? Can she be dying, and are these visions passing before her departing spirit? No, poor child-all is reality: a friend who loves you as a mother is there watching over you: a father is there, too, praying that you may be spared to him-a father, honest, respected, prepared to love you more than his own life; it is his voice you hear murmuring,

"God preserve you, my daughter, to your long sorrowing parent!

Oh! precious return of consciousness after days of gloom and stupor, was it not a foretaste of the eternal waking from the darkness of the grave when the spirit rejoices forever? So Weeny felt it when she clasped Peggy Cross in her wasted arms, and wept upon her bosom; so she felt it when gently told the strange story of her own birth, and that the honored master of that house was her real father, free from stain of dishonor; so she felt it clearer, brighter still, when without feeling of shame she could give her promise to M'Govern, with her father's consent, to be his for life. John Carolin was determined that his child should wed the man of her choice. Happy were the young lovers at last. Happy the father who, for nineteen years, had lived a broken-hearted man mourning the wife he had secretly wedded, and miserably lost, while lying on a sick bed in another land. Happy the long afflicted sister and aunt, who for years had looked upon herself as the cause of infanticide. All were happy, and old Granny blessed them ere she set forth for the spot where her bones were to lie with those of her departed hus

band and children, in the burial ground of country, he can never live in his own neighShinrone. borhood again."

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Father," said Weeny, as she and Carolin sat in the window looking at the snow flakes hanging on the bushes outside, " can nothin' be done for Para Bawn? He must be very badly off, and my heart's sorry for him. Remember, father, that he gave me food and shelther for near twenty years, an' I ought to do somethin' for him now. If you'd write to Father Gilligan, maybe we'd find out where he's hid, for him and the priest was great always; he never missed payin' his dues regular."

"I'll do what I can for him," replied Carolin, laying his hand on his fair child's head; "but it's plain he must leave the

With the assistance of Peggy Cross, who was acquainted with some of Wafe's near relatives, a communication was conveyed to him, that a sum of money would be placed at his disposal to compensate in some measure for the losses he had sustained, together with the extraordinary information, that Weeny was not his daughter, which perhaps relieved him of a considerable burthen.

What became of him finally was never accurately known; but for years his treachery was talked of at Dring, and the stranger was pointed out the sinister looking ruins of what had once been the dwelling place of the informer.

JUNIUS, BOYD, AND LORD MACARTNEY.In 1800, George Chalmers published An Appendix to the Supplemental Apology for the Believers in the Supposititious Shakspeare Papers: being the Documents for the Opinion that Hugh M'Auley Boyd wrote Junius' Letters. In a presentation copy "From the Author to Lord Macartney, as a mark of his sincere respect," is the following MS. note signed M., and most probably written by his Lordship himself:

The person noticed by Lord Macartney is Samuel Dyer, the friend and associate of the literati of the last century. Malone is the first, probably, who asserted that Dyer was the author of Junius' Letters. -Notes and Queries.

J. Y.

LORD HAILES.-Lord Hailes was punctilious as to propriety of expression, especially in judicial proceedings; and hence, in a jeu d'esprite of James Boswell's, well known in its day, called the "Court of Session Garland," in which the judges then on the Bench are satirized, it is said: "To judge in this case,' says Hailes, 'I don't pretend,

For justice I see wants the e at the end.""

I have been lately shown a copy of a note of his Lordship in a cause which depended before him. It is in the following terms, and seems to indicate that the joke of Boswell was not much misapplied

"Great industry, research, ingenuity, and critical sagacity are displayed in this treatise, and afford very plausible grounds for the opinion which Mr. Chalmers has formed. But a variety of circumstances prevents me from adopting it. Having been shut up in a small packet with Mr. Boyd during a four months' passage to India without once letting go our anchor, I had frequent opportunities of sounding his depth, and of studying and knowing him well. He was strongly recommended to me by some of my friends whom I wished to oblige; but previous to my Indian appointment, though I knew many of Mr. Boyd's connections and relations, I was not personally acquainted with him. I do not say that he was incapable of writing to the full as well as Junius; but I say I do not by any The Lord Ordinary, observing that in the means believe that he was the author of Junius. writing entitled,Answers for Messrs. Pringle "Mr. Boyd had many splendid passages of & Hamilton,' and in the writing entitled, AnJunius by heart, as also of Mr. Burke's parlia-swers for the Creditors of Nathaniel Agnew,' an mentary speeches and political pamphlets, the innovation is attempted to be introduced into the style of all which he knew how to imitate. He was Scottish Alphabet by the use of the letter 'z'inalso a great admirer of Sterne, and often affected stead of 's,' appoints the said writings to be withhis manner in his private letters, and not unsuc-drawn, and to be copied over and replaced in cessfully. The Whig and Antrim Freeholders common orthography; in respect that this innoseem rather to be imitations of Junius than pro-vation if yielded to, may in the course of a few ductions of the same pen. Mr. Chalmers' argu-years produce a total change in the form of letment would be stronger if any performance of ters, and render the writing of one age unintelliMr. Boyd previous to the appearance of Junius gible to another." could be found, which indicated that Junius Edinburgh. might be expected from such a writer.ja

Notes and Queries.

G.

From Bentley's Miscellany.

A VISIT TO CHARLES DICKENS, BY
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.

nine, and retiring nature; but when she spoke, her large gentle eye assumed a peculiar brilliancy, a good-humored smile played A FASHION introduced into this country round her mouth, and in the sound of her by our American brethren appears to be voice was something so attractive, that, since spreading on the continent. A man can the meeting, M. Andersen has always imhardly attain a decent amount of literary ce-aged Agnes to himself as possessed of these lebrity ere a chiel's among his household taking notes, and faith he'll print them. The last and most striking instance of this nature is supplied by the Danish poet Hans Christian Andersen, who having spent a portion of 1857 at Charles Dickens' hopitable house at Gadshill, has recently put forth his experiences among some other sketches, which go to form an unpretending volume. A scamper through the paper may afford some

amusement to our readers.

M. Andersen had already visited England on several occasions, and was, therefore, bold enough to reach the Higham station alone. But no carriage was to be procured there, and hence our author ascended the hill accompanied by a porter, who carried his luggage. It must have been a charming walk through this portion of the garden of England, which never looks better than in the month of May. And here for Gadshillplace itself:

attributes. Equally characteristic is the description of the room in which the family breakfasted: the large windows were festooned with fragrant roses, and the prospect was varied and extensive. A good portrait of Cromwell hung over the mantelpiece, and among the other pictures was one which our author specially noticed. It depicted a carriage, in which two ladies are seated, deep in the perusal of a copy of "Bleak House." The little groom behind was bending forward, and eagerly reading the work.

In a letter of invitation Charles Dickens sent to Andersen, he wrote: "I have now finished Little Dorrit,' and am a free man. We shall be always together, and play at But these calculations cricket in the field." were foiled by the death of Douglas Jerrold, and the necessary arrangements for securing the future comfort of his widow. M. Andersen furnishes a detailed account of all the performances instituted, but on which we "Before me lay on the broad high road Dick. need not dwell, as few of our readers, we ens' country-house, whose tower with its gilded trust, have forgotten the efforts made by the weathercock, I had seen for some time over the most eminent literary men in this most satops of the trees. It was a handsome new house, cred cause. It, however, took Dickens more with brick walls and a projecting entrance, sup- frequently than usual to London, and robbed ported by small pillars; a thick hedge of cherry the guest of his host's society. Very pleastrees joined the house, in front of which was a ant, though, must have been their country carefully tended grass plot, in the rear two splen- walks, and the philological discussions they did cedar trees, whose crooked branches spread held on the resemblance between the Engtheir green shade over a garden fenced in with lish and Danish languages, and of which our ivy and wild grape. As I entered the house Dickens came to meet me, so happy, so cordial; author gives some amusing instances. Take, he looked somewhat older than when we parted for instance, the following sentence: "Der er ten years before, but this was partly owing to en Grässhoppe in den Höstak," which Dickthe beard he wore; his eyes glistened as for- ens at once triumphantly translated as a merly, the same smile played round his mouth,"grasshopper in the haystack." Or here, the same clear voice sounded so cheerily, even again, is a pleasant sketch enough of a fammore affectionately than heretofore. Dickens ily group: was now in his best years, so youthful, lively, eloquent, and rich in humor, through which the warmest cordiality ever shone. I cannot find more characteristic words to describe him than a quotation from the first letter I wrote home. "Select the best of Charles Dickens' works, form from them the image of a man, and you have Dickens." Just as he stood before mo in the first hour, he remained unchanged during all the weeks I passed with him, ever jovial, merry, and sympathizing.

"More and more I felt at home; even the younger children began to understand and attach themselves to me. Dickens has no less than nine children, two grown up daughters and seven sons. The two eldest and two youngest were at home, and the three middle boys had just returned for the holidays from Boulogne, where they were at school. I soon saw them climbing up the branches of the lofty cedars, or playing a game of cricket in the large meadow, Our author had frequently heard it re- with father and elder brothers, in shirt-sleeves; marked that Agnes, in "David Copperfield," the ladies sat beneath the trees in the tall grass; was a likeness of Mrs. Dickens; and he be- peasant children peered over the hedge, and the lieves that no other character in all his writ-through, was now unfastened, and led a free house-dog, Turk, who was chained up the night ings resembles her so much for her kindness doggish existence, while his long chain and 'ken. and amiability as this very Agnes. M. An- nel were left to the care of an old raven, who cerdersen found in Mrs. Dickens a calm, femi- tainly considered himself the Barnaby Rudge's