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WILLIE AND HIS FRIENDS.

H-, not my native town, but where I have lived since my memory commenced to receive and retain impressions, is celebrated for its dulness; I make no exceptions, as they are too few and too small to notice. Do the spots on its surface detract from the general brightness of the sun? By the same rule, the few breaks I am about to mention do not destroy the character of our stagnant market-town in this progressive nineteenth century. Were it not that I possess a horse, as wonderful as the enchanted one of Arabic notoriety, and were able to soar away to distant realms at leisure; even were my lives as numerous as a cat's, I should be ennuied to death in a week. But do not think me uncanny; my winged steed is but the goddess Imagination, who is wont to become somewhat troublesome to me at times, as it brings me into disgrace for neglecting matter-of-fact affairs for the elysian fields and ethereal realms of fancy. Our quiet home, however, has seasons when it undergoes a complete metamorphosis; these chiefly belong to the periodical appearances of a brother, who now and then breaks loose from his civil studies, and brings us an inundation of fellow-students and companions. It is the last of these visits I am about to describe.

His a celebrity in one particular line of life; and, to a certain class of men, the name is suggestive of hunting seasons with the Pytchly in the neighbourhood. The readers of sporting papers will not require my pen to supply the omitted letters, when I say that close to the town lies the finest steeple-chasing ground in England.

Once a-year, with sometime_omissions, do we revel in a miniature Derby-day, and special after special lands the thousands of horse-flesh admirers that compose the crowd upon the course. This, to our town families, is a sort of spring Christmas, when absent ones appear upon the family hearth to join in the pleasures of the day, and gladden the hearts of

VOL. III.-NEW SERIES.

those who would have few delights otherwise in the throng of pleasure-seekers.

It was on the eve of the 26th that Willie and his friends arrived-four intelligent young men, associates my brother need never blush to own.

Willie is nineteen; perhaps no one but a partial sister would call him handsome, but he has an intelligent face, and a manner that no young lady can resist; he has a fair complexion, and light hair, and

let not the beardless youths of his own age become envious-whiskers that may be seen without a microscope. But my particular pride is his talent for music, which is very decided, though, at present, he is rather too much disposed to distribute it to every instrument that comes within his reach, instead of confining it to, and making it the means of, excelling upon one.

Ewart Paget, his room-mate and chief companion, is a West Indian, and having only been in England three years, speaks the language with a pretty foreign accent that quite delights me. His younger brother, Harry, is a perfect little gentleman in every way, only, as I told him,-which, I am afraid, did not mend matters, he is so shy.

Robert Hay, the son of the gentleman with whom they are studying, during the short visit, I did not see sufficient of to enable me to form any decided opinion as to his character, though his appearance was pleasing.

John Dawson, familiarly known amongst his companions by the cognomen of "Jackdaw," (what he would say to me for publishing this information, privately obtained from Willie, I do not know), met with a very warm reception at home. Papa admired his acuteness and intelligence, mamma his gentlemanly bearing, and I both.

The day after their arrival a brilliant sun cast its beams over the pretty country surrounding H-, and brilliantly adorned the race morning, though a high wind made thick cloaks welcome, notwithstand

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ing the sunshine. Two hours before the time published for the starting of the first race, the road leading to the ground was crowded by a motley throng-old and young, rich and poor, decked in their gayest attire-walked or drove past. I had an interest in the bright, amused faces of all-from the lady in velvets and feathers, who leaned languidly back in her cushioned carriage, to the child who, in short-frilled skirts and sailor hat, skipped along by her mother's side; and, with the little child, my heart leaped to the words, "going to the races." To us those words were only indicative of sunshine on a fair, open country, sights and sounds of enjoyment, freedom from restraint, and an innocent delight in the apparent universal happiness of the scene. But there was a class of people from whom that simple, light-hearted child unconsciously would have shrank, and who inspired me with a dim, indefinite dread, a shadow, as it were, of another and darker world within this brighter world of ours; dissipated looking men of all classes, from the well-dressed equestrian to the shoeless mendicant, who offered for sale cards of the races. I recognised amongst them the one fraternity, the unhallowed one of vice--gambling, and drunkenness. The soft impress of childhood had long been wiped from the countenances that met the sunshine with no answering freshness, but more, the unmistakeable traces of a late indulged-in debauch. These, according to their means, had staked them upon the chance-running of a horse, and bore eager, excited faces to the stand and the ring.

It would prolong my sketch too much were I to enter into a full description of the day, or all the different characters that came under my observation, so revenons aux moutons, alias Willie and his friends, the subject of my story.

Invitations had been issued for a dance at home on the evening after the races, and, as it was in honour of our dear Willie's visit, my parents spared no expense, my mamma, particularly, no pains, that he and his friends should be pleased. The dining-room carpet was removed, and the floor brought into dancing condition; who cannot sympathise with me

without a detailed account of the thousand and one things to be superintended and prepared by mamma and myself.

Once I was tempted to regret that our visitors were not ladies, with the skilful hands and suggestive brain we generally possess upon such occasions; but that was before Ewart gallantly offered his assistance in the whisking of lemon sponge, that was awkward, and determined not to be frothed on that particular morning, as lemon sponges, I believe, are at times. An excursion to the factory in the town was relinquished, in order that he might do this; and the chaffing of Willie and his companions borne manfully after wards; but I trust the experience he gained in the cookery department of a dance-supper, and my gratitude, were recompense sufficient to Ewart for his sacrifice.

Dear reader, perhaps you will think me vain, but it was with no little pleasure, as I dressed that evening, I perceived, for the-well, let the figure be namelesstime, by the reflection in the glass, that my face and figure deserved the enco miums often bestowed upon them. "I am pretty," I said to myself, and the colour deepened upon the cheeks shaded by long dark curls, which a comb kept from hiding too completely. My eyes are bright and dark; my mouth prettily formed, and pouting; and my soft Swiss muslin dress, and white opera cloak, with broad pink border, heightened not a little these natural charms; add to these, I bore myself and moved with the dignity that had been mine since the marriage of my second eldest sister.

The company arrived early, as it was against papa's wish that dancing should be kept up late. Willie is a shocking flirt; after tea, I saw him handing round the proofs of several photographs of himself, for some of his young-lady guests to choose from. I chose one, and Willie promised to send me a copy on his return to S-. Will he remember this promise, or forget it in the many more interesting requests made that evening?

Papa opened the ball, and danced as lightly and skilfully as anyone there, notwithstanding the fifty years that have left white foot prints upon his head;

and

Willie, with the one whom he considered | the prettiest girl in the room, came next. It was my duty, as Willie's sister, to make myself agreeable to his friends; and, seeing Harry Paget sitting alone in corner of the room, I came down from a very high flight on my enchanted horse, and took the seat against him, to talk to him, and make him feel at home. I questioned him about their life at S-, because Willie, being one of them, it interested me exceedingly; but wishing to make the interest more personal, I asked what he (Harry) did in his leisure hours; did he play any instrument, as so many of them seemed in the habit of doing? I remembered Ewart's piano performance of the "Great Eastern Polka" in a former visit, as I spoke. No; he had no taste for music. Was he fond of reading? No; he could not keep to a book long enough to finish it. Well, then, what did he do in his leisure hours? Sometimes, spoken with that pretty, unEnglish accent, he went out jumping.

Just then the others trooped in from the dancing-room, and I turned to greet them with a smile that their entrance alone had not produced.

Edward Hay and John Dawson only attempted the easiest dances; and I was pleased to hear the former say, that he intended, really, if instructions were to be obtained within nine or ten miles of his residence, he would take some, for I have a great objection to wallflowers at an evening party, and nothing makes a young gentleman appear so stupid as not being able to join in that general and harmless amusement. Papa would laugh if he saw this, and say I judged with young and inexperienced reasons; but it is only those that are natural to me I wish to give, and if I were to write very wisely, I might as well have grey hair at once.

"Jackdaw,"-I beg Mr. Dawson's pardon, but the soubriquet has amused me, so much, indeed, that several times since his visit I have caught myself singing, "Said the old jackdaw to the young jackdaw," &c.-entertained me with a long and interesting account of otter-hunting, so that I did not regret the sacrifice I made of more skilful partners to dance a polka with him.

But now I must come to the-to megreat event of the evening, and the only one I need blush to record, because my own foolish, passionate temper is not better under control.

It was before supper that, seated in the drawing room, I was resting, heated and fatigued with dancing; the door, partly open, completely hid my easy chair from the view of those standing in the doorway to watch the merry dancers in the next room.

My own name, coupled with that of another, whose rapid attentions had been my annoyance for weeks past, caught my ear; but even as it fell, rose up such an angry tumult in my heart, and such a rush of passionate crimson to my face, that I remember nothing clearly enough to write down. It was the old, despicable gossip of our, in this respect, hated little town; the cruel interference that makes every other person's business their own; the tell-tale meddlesomeness that had often filled my breast with rebellious indignation, and forced bitter invectives from my lips. Why will they not let me alone?" was my inaudible cry; "what have I ever done towards them, that my conduct should thus be misconstrued, and my motives questioned ?" The music ceasing warned me that I should soon be no longer alone, and, not caring that my flushed cheeks and quivering lips should be seen, with swift steps I fled to the green-house; when there, I tossed back my curls, and stamped my foot on the floor. "I will be free!" I exclaimed; "free to act as I like; these vile, hateful gossips shall not alter my conduct one iota; I will fathom this tale, and know who dared to take the liberty with my name."

My form was trembling with the frenzy that was raging in my breast; drawing my cloak round me, I sat down upon the white step, and tried to think myself into calmness, and drown the tumult.

Something attracted my attention near; I looked up, and espied a pure white camellia blooming from its background of dark, glossy, green leaves; oh! so white, so fresh, and so pure; breathing forth such an atmosphere of peace, that I burst into tears, and all my passion died out.

My passion, but not all my resentment against its originators, and I determined, in my own plain way, that never feared to speak the truth, that this tissue of surmises should be laid bare to the fountainhead, aye, even though it should reveal to me the name of one who ought to have been to me as a sister, but whom I had reason to suspect as the author of many a similar plot.

Soothed into quietness by this decision, and calmed by the purity of the flower's influence, near which I had lingered so long, I returned to the drawing-room. Supper was on the table; Ewart gave me his seat, and, taking another near, the business of the table commenced.

The late tempest had left a serenity that brightened even into gaiety under the influence of Ewart's nonsense. We congratulated each other upon the success of the lemon sponge, which vanished with a rapidity that testified to its excellence; but our conceit had a fall, upon hearing a not over-polite young gentleman say, that he had eaten so much of that horrid lemon stuff, that he must have something to take the taste out of his mouth.

I rallied Ewart upon his very evident flirtations that evening. I suppose in reply to which, he showed me a tiny photograph, his ideal of beauty; it was from a painting of Portia,-a lovely face, dark and noble, with eyes that I could imagine haunting one's memory by day and night; such a face as warriors have fought for, and nations been destroyed. I admired Ewart's taste; I wonder where he expects to meet the reality? Certainly, he cannot amongst the trifling and smiles at an evening party. It must be in some heroic life-struggle, not amidst the gay superficialities of an artificial life.

Before we re-commenced dancing, the gentleman who had depreciated our lemon sponge, sang a song, by request, descriptive of the history of the common willowpatterned plate, in which one of the characters being, to me, irresistibly suggestive of himself, I appropriately dubbed him, then and there, "Old Souchong." Later in the evening, when the weariness of some began to thin the dancing-room, and I was resting, Ewart threw himself upon the couch by my easy chair. During the

conversation that followed, he lifted my gloved left-hand, and felt the ring underneath the glove upon my third finger-a pretty turquoise ring, the gift of a favourite uncle. It flashed upon my brain then the meaning attached to rings worn there. I snatched my hand away, while a bright crimson flooded face and neck Had he, too, heard the gossip's reports that I had? My brow was throbbing with a return of the conquered passion, as I asked for the reason of that action. He would not give it me. Yes, it was coming back-my anger,—and now shaping itself against one of Willie's friends. I would know what he knew,-I felt that I must,— that he could help me to a knowledge of the informant, whose name I longed for, that I might give the fierce denial te their hateful scandal.

I was unsuccessful. That night, when I retired, I let the cool wind blow for long over my heated and angered brow, but the fire within would not let it cool, and its perplexing suggestions kept me from the quiet sleep I so much needed.

I do not know when I have felt so angry-angry with Ewart that he would not afford me the information that might have put all right.

I concealed my temper, and tried to be friendly with him, for I determined to try once more to win the information I felt certain he could give. The next morning we went out for a walk in a party; it was then I sought and found the opportunity of again speaking to Ewart, when we walked apart from the rest.

"Will you not tell me, now, what I asked you last night?"

He looked down with a smile which, I am sorry to say, made me angrier still with him.

"Will you tell me what you think was the reason?"

"No, I will not," I answered.

I broke the silence that followed. "You do not know what H- is; there have been things said I do not like, and that I will have contradicted; it is very wrong."

"I think you are mistaken."

"Then give me your reason; why did you wish to know that I had a ring there?"

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Another long silence, in which I stopped short, giving utterance to a little of the passion that was burning within.

"You must tell me; I will know!" His smile was the only answer; and I walked on, feeling not the high wind that, under other circumstances, would have made proceeding at that rate impossible.

Ah! if he had but have said, plainly and determinedly, "Maggie, I will not," instead of leaving me to find out his obstinacy, after the humiliating exhibition of my own temper.

I tried to be calm, and to talk of something else, but in the midst I could not forbear exclaiming:

"Will you forgive and forget? I cannot bear to be unfriendly with any one, much more with one of Willie's friends.""

Ere the quarrel, if such I might term it, had quite subsided, the others joined us. Lo, I had done no good, but harm, by endeavouring to take into my own hands what should properly have been left to the overruling of a mysterious Providence. God, who sometimes permits injustice for the furtherance of His own great ends, can, in His own good time, make all clear. When shall I learn that meek, trustful spirit that harbours no thought of wrong, nor will ever ake upon itself the power to punish its own offences. Gossipping tongues can do me no harm so long as I preserve a clear conscience before God, and a strong trust in His mercy.

I did not tell Willie of this little incident; I can only hope that time will restore once more the friendship of Ewart Paget, which I value as much as that of any of Willie's friends. I believe now, that, blinded by that unjustifiable anger, I attributed motives where there were none, but merely an idle curiosity.

"I do not feel good-tempered; I am very angry, indeed; why will you not tell me?" It was useless to appeal; we turned off into the fields to avoid the dust the wind blew in clouds; but it was annoying to me that I must accept Ewart's help in surmounting the styles that intercepted our progress. It was some little time before I quite gave up all hopes of gainWillie and his friends left the next ing the knowledge, nothing but surmise morning, H- returned to its stagnancy, told me, Ewart possessed; and still and we to our usual quiet occupations, so longer, before the influence of the blue to rest until another of those flying visits sky and nature's bright surroundings that compose mamma's only bits of gaiety. calmed my anger, and I had the grace MAGGIE SYMINGTON. to offer a little apology for my behaviour.

THE NEED OF THE NOBLE SOUL.

THOU, of a hope and an aim sublime,
Mingling, unblest, with the sons of Time-
Great one, adoring the pure and the good;
Earnest, enduring, and misunderstood-
Soul, with capacities royal endowed,
Clashing, unread, with the rude in the crowd-
Man of the ardent and lofty will,
What shall the void in thy being fill?

More than the heart can bestow-far more
Wakened to bliss by a voice before;
Taught the sweet lesson unwritten by earth;
Scarr'd in its wholeness of measureless worth;
'Shrining in Memory's fairest recess
Him whom it thrill'd with its first caress;
All that it hence shall evoke to be,
A broken though fine-toned melody!

More than the heart that can draw delight
Only from objects of sense and sight;
Playing sweet airs in the sunshine proud-
Scared by a threatening thunder cloud!

Better were one of Parian mould,
Ever motionless, listless, cold;
Ah! 'tis a worship at holier shrine
Likeneth life to "a thing divine!"
One, in her unstained temple, stood
Rich in unselfish maidenhood!
Waiting, in heart and in soul, to be
His who should carry the master-key.
Naught of her being would she reserve;
Ne'er in a thought or a feeling swerve;
He would be generous, tender, true,-
Ob! what a heaven on earth for two!
Life in its fulness so to learn
How do the loftier spirits yearn!
Whom shall Adversity's advent move,
Clothed with the glory of such a love?
What shall be found a lamp to dim
Needing no earth-born power to trim?
When did even the death-bell toll
O'er a disunion of mingled soul?

CARACTACUS.

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