school children, who were all busily employed; some in sorting the flowers, others in cutting string, others again in cutting the stalks of the flowers of equal lengths, while a fourth party tied them up in bunches; and the youngest children carried them, and laid them in rows upon a bench near the schoolmistress's seat, while she, in her turn, fastened them upon the large hoop which was to form the garland.

On leaving the school, the two children descried Farmer Trueman and his sons, putting up booths at the end of the green; and they begged their mother to let them stop to see what they were doing. "You are preparing for Thursday, are you?" asked Mrs. Keppel.

"Ay, ay," said the honest countryman; "we must all do what we can; and belike there will be more folks coming in from the country round than we can take into our houses; and you know, my Lady, we have not an inn in the place. But Sir Thomas is so hospitable, and treats us all so well, it would be a shame if we did not follow his example as far as we can. It's a good thing, Madam, to be under such a master. He lives, and lets live, which is not what all the quality do, I reckon so when strangers come to the Well-dressing, and say to me, "What a nice,

pretty place this is," I answer, "It's a pretty place; and we have a kind gentleman at the Hall yonder. A pretty place with a hard master would not be so pleasant."

"Very true, Thomas," said Mrs. Keppel. "But we keep you from your work. Come, Alfred, my dear, give Farmer Trueman his saw again. It is growing late, and you must learn to be a carpenter some other day." So saying, she took a hand of each of her children; and they set out home, talking by the way of all that they expected and hoped from the approaching holiday.

At

It was late on Wednesday evening before John Fraser had finished his flower-board. last it was completed; and he carefully covered it over, that it might remain uninjured till the following morning, when it was to be erected over the well near his cottage. Susan, who had been standing before it, surveying with pride this last and best effort of her husband's skill, now took up a faggot, and threw it on the fire, saying— "Come, John, you have been working overmuch; sit down in the chimney-corner, and I will make you a cup of tea." As she spoke, there was a sound as if some one was tapping gently at the door. "Was that a knock?" said John.

"The wood crackles so, I cannot be cer

K

tain," answered his wife; "and I cannot guess who should be coming at this hour, unless it be some of the neighbours to see the board." So saying, Susan went towards the door, and raising her voice, asked if any one was there. "Will

you let me in?" was the reply.

"The door is not fastened, come in," said the good woman; and she turned again to put the kettle on the fire, little doubting that the visiter was a neighbour coming to see her husband. The sick man raised his eyes to the door with an air of languor and indifference. The latch was slowly lifted, and a youth in a sailor's dress entered. He stood hesitatingly, with his hand upon the door, and said, "Do you know me?" The blood rushed over John's pallid countenance; and at the same instant Susan exclaimed, " It is our own Harry!" and darted forwards to embrace her son. "It is Harry indeed," faintly muttered John Fraser, whose limbs so trembled with agitation that he could scarcely rise: "Thank Heaven!" he fervently ejaculated as Harry seized his hands; "thank Heaven, I see my child once more."

After the first bewildering moments of surprise and joy were over, and Harry had asked and received his parents' forgiveness for his desertion of them, the little party seated

themselves around the blazing fire, and Harry commenced the history of his adventures, and explained why he had been so long in returning home. He had been to the West Indies; and there he was pressed, and had been obliged to serve on board one of the king's ships. He had written to his father and mother several times, but by some accident none of his letters had reached their destination. He was come himself, however, at last; and now that the delighted parents could gaze upon him, and listen to his voice, the past could no longer be lamented. And, better than all, he declared he had seen enough of a sailor's life, and the dangers of the sea, to have determined never to wander from home again. So, with happy and grateful hearts, John and Susan Fraser knelt down to pray that night before they went to rest, and joined in thanksgiving to God that he had brought back to them their lost son safe and well.

The young sailor rose at daybreak, anxious to dress the well before Farmer Trueman's sons, who had promised to assist his father, should arrive. He had brought with him some shells and other curiosities from foreign lands, and he had hastened his journey that he might be present at the village festival. He exulted in his

secret heart at the glory he should gain among his old playfellows when they should see his treasures,—more especially his greatest trophy, a flag, which had been given him by one of his ship-mates, and which he intended should float above his father's house, to the wonder and admiration of all Tissington. He had just placed his pink conch shells round the mouth of the well, when some of the village boys approached. The shout of pleasure was great on discovering Harry, for he had been a general favourite. He, on his part, was full of mirth and good humour; and more willing than ever to make one in the village games, in which he had of old always acted a foremost part. So, as soon as his morning's work had been examined, and the effect admired to his full content, Harry hurried off to the green with his companions; and there, with a crowd of old acquaintances gathered about him, we must for the present leave him to rehearse the story of his wanderings, and to astonish the simple country folks with strange tales of sharks, hurricanes, and great guns.

It was scarcely seven o'clock that morning when Alfred Keppel knocked at his sister's door.

Come, Anna, are you dressed?" he impatiently