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angry. However, I suppose it was an accident you could not prevent?'

'It was indeed, my lord.'

'Then see that you send up the fat and the skin to the Castle this evening.'

8. "That won't do !' muttered Darby, turning his back and walking slowly away. He resolved to try again.

Good morning, Darby.'
Good morning, my lord.'
'How are the flocks to-day, Darby?'
* Pretty fair, my lord.'

'Darby, I don't see my ram—where is he? Is there anything wrong? Tell me at once.'

'He was stolen, my lord-yesterday.'

Stolen, Darby! stolen? It so happens I was riding by this morning and saw him.'

“That won't do either!' exclaimed the poor shepherd, as he turned away the second time. Cruel, cruel Kathleen!'

9. Something called conscience whispered to him, Try how the truth will look. Fresh courage entered his downcast heart, and wheeling about, he once more commenced the conversation, and on coming to the usual question, 'Darby, where's the ram ?' he hung his head and said, 'Oh, my lord ! I had a falling-out with my sweetheart, and cruel Kathleen wouldn't make it up with me unless I made her a present of your lordship's favourite ram. Discharge me, my lord, do with me what you please, but I could not tell your lordship a lie.'

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*That'll do!' shouted Darby, leaping to his feet, and walking up and down with honest pride. • That'll do!'

10. He had scarcely time to compose himself when his lordship, with the squire, rode up. His lordship said:

• Good morning, Darby.'
Good morning, my lord.'
'How are the flocks, Darby?'
It's not all well, my lord!
Why, what's wrong? Where's my ram, Darby?'

Oh, my lord !' said Darby, 'I had a fallingout with my sweetheart, and cruel Kathleen wouldn't make it up with me unless I made her a present of your lordship's favourite ram. Discharge me, my lord, and do with me what you please, but I could not tell your lordship a lie.'

11. He had told 'the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,' and the poor fellow looked up with fears and tears. What was his surprise when, instead of seeing a frown gathering on his lordship's countenance, he beheld him turn with a smile of triumph towards the squire, while he exclaimed:

'Did I not tell you that he could not tell me a lie?

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1. I WISH I were an empress,

And had a crown to wear,
A stomacher of diamonds,

And pearls to deck my hair,
And a train of purple velvet

For noblemen to bear.

2. I wish I were an empress,

And sat upon a throne,
Receiving great ambassadors
From every

clime and zone ; With princes at my footstool,

To make my pleasure known.

3. I wish I were an empress,

And rode a prancing bay,
Amid my people shouting

And garlanding my way ;
With trumpets before me,-

Tooroo ! Tooroo ! Tooray!

4. I wish I were an empress,

The glory of the land,
With half a dozen monarchs

Contending for my hand,

Which I would scorn to give them

Let all men understand.

5. Which I should scorn to give them,

As far too great a prize,
Unless to some one handsome

And great and good and wise,
Who loved me more than kingdoms

For the twinkle of mine eyes.

6. I wish I were an empress,

My crown upon my head, -
To feed the poor man's orphans

Who lacked their daily bread,
And give each maid a dowry

Who needed one to wed.

7. I wish I were an empress

Alas, my cruel fate !
I'm nothing but a pretty girl,

And toil both hard and late,
And waste my youth in sighing-

Too poor to find a mate !

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8. SCANT and frosty is my hair;

Age and care
Clog my pulses, thin my blood-
I would give my royal crown

Gem-bestud,

Purple robes and ermine down,
For the tresses rich and brown

Of a clown;
I would yield up gold or peari
For the bright eyes of a girl ;
Prosperous countries—all my wealth


For a country maiden's health ;

Duchies wide

All my pride-
All my armies, all my ships
For the blood of youthful lips.

9. At my palace windows oft

Up aloft-
Looking down the crowded strect
I behold the maidens go

Brisk of feet
To the market or the show,
Laughing, tripping to and fro

In a row:
And could hate them, woe is me-
For their light limbs moving free,
For their brisk elastic tread,
For their cheeks like cherries red,

For their hair

Flowing fair !
Oh! the May-time I have lost;
Oh! the nipping of the frost.

CHARLES MACKAY.

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