St. Clair was found as talkative and full of spirits as if she had been a boarder herself; the taciturn and watchful Miss Barbara sat and smiled now and then, without seeing what went on behind her back; the benevolent-looking Miss Jessy was still more kind and gentle than she seemed. Altogether they were the best, kindest, simplest, and most good-hearted creatures in the town; it was no wonder we considered their household a sort of Utopian dwelling, and a model of modelling-places for their charge. It was wonderful how soon they turned a wild, romping hoyden of a girl into a well-bred, modest young lady our own sister, who, in the depths of our former country-life, had had no other companions than ourselves, and had played boys' sports as much as girlish ones, became in half a year's time as it were the being of quite another sphere than ours. We should no more have thought of expecting her to play at "hide and seek," tig," or "blind-man's buff" with us, than she would now have deigned to quarrel and bandy names, or even to "tell mamma." We were of course " disagreeable, vulgar, awkward boys," as was implied in her look, but we respected in her the whole body of the "Boarding- | school." There were no complaints of starving there, no show-parties and musical exhibitions, no novel-reading, no set of masters with their portfolios; only two men, that we knew of, ever entered the door, and they were the clergyman now and then on a visitation, and a little, ugly French teacher, who always came from it so smirk-leading up into the opening; and as we strolled near it, ing and conceited, that we regarded him in the light of a vile Jesuit confessor, who could a tale unfold, but wanted to keep all his privileges to himself.

overset my tea, they stuffed their handkerchiefs into their mouths. "Now, young ladies," said Miss Barbara at last; all rose, marched off, turned round to curtscy at the door, and glided out: a general giggle seemed to run up the staircase, however. After tea we were conducted into the garden to get gooseberries, the eldest and the youngest Miss St. Clair showed us the best bushes, and were altogether so full of kindness that we would not have touched anything else for the world. We were left to ourselves in a little while, and heartily enjoyed the said company, particularly when contrasted with our late embarrassment: we were all gratitude to our hospitable entertainers, but indignant towards the boarders, who had been evidently laughing at us; our own sister Jane amongst the rest-for she did not deign us a look of acknowledgment or encouragement, and seemed rather ashamed of her connections. Sad havoc therefore did we commit amongst the gooseberries, not only in justice to our hostesses, but in revenge upon the satirical damsels; we did our best not to leave them one ripe: when we could eat no more, we pocketed as much as we could pull—and school-boys' pockets are wonderfully capacious. Our private conversation, too, was as free as it had been restrained before,-a rich treat, doubtless, it would have been to the ears of our fair critics. Behind the house was a series of offices, one of them a structure unmistakeably devoted to the use of poultry, with a ladder

66

still occupied in eating and pocketing our fill of fruit, we distinctly heard the sound of tittering and giggling proceed from above. I looked at my brother, and he at me. One evening, I recollect, we were asked to tea at the "Joe," said I, "let's move that ladder out of the way." house and to get gooseberries in the garden, at the period Joe winked with intelligence, we removed it, and walked when we began to brush our hair and look in the glass a quietly away to another part of the garden. In about an little, which we did, at least I, on that grand occasion, hour we had pretty well satisfied ourselves, and were with nervous fear and trembling. We scarcely dared ring thinking whether we might not venture upon a few the bell, and almost expected to have our eyes blindfolded cherries; the summer evening began to get dusk too; before going along the passages. We sat in the drawing- when Miss Barbara St. Clair came out of the house and room alone, with two of the good ladies, answering in asked-" John, my dear, have you seen anything of the monosyllables to the voluble conversation of Miss St. young ladies?" No ma'am !" replied I, innocently; Clair, who was remarkably amusing and cheerful, and and "No ma'am!" said Joe, with the stoutest air of was happily characterized by never attending to what any honest veracity. Miss Barbara looked for them at the one else said, or leaving an interval to be filled up. As back and in the front, but they were not there, any more we gathered presence of mind, we kept trying to look as than up in their rooms. Joe and I took several more simple and modest as possible,—the kind, unsuspicious turns round the garden, whistling as we passed under the creatures, they little thought what a couple of sad imps poultry-loft. At length, a head with ringlets was put and mischievous wretches they had introduced to their cautiously forth, and said in a low voice, but somewhat sanctuary, but we always appeared so sedate at church, angrily, "Let us out, you rude boys!" to which we and our sister Jane was such a favourite! In the dining-returned not the slightest notice. "Oh, Mr. John! Mr. room, when we were taken there, the long table and its Joseph!" entreated two voices, next time, "do, let us number of cups, produced a salutary impression of awe down! Miss Barbara will be so angry!" I glanced up, on our minds, so that there was no danger of our feeling and saw one of the mischievous-looking girls who had too lively; but when the rustle of dresses and tripping annoyed me with laughing at my manners. At first, I of feet was heard on the staircase, and ten young ladies, felt resolved not to lose the opportunity of turning the headed by the tall governess, entered, curtseying suc- tables upon them, and Joe, who always followed my cessively, walked erect to their chairs and sat down with leadership, was also inexorable, with his hands in his the most careful etiquette, both of us were absolutely pockets. But the young lady looked now so pretty, overwhelmed. They all stood up again for Miss St. Clair pitiful, and beseeching, that I yielded, and set the ladder to say grace, then tea proceeded in solemn silence, which for them again. As soon as they had got hold of it— it was agonizing to have to break; when asked if our tea "Go away, you rude creatures!" exclaimed the girls, in a was to our taste, each of us blushed to the ears-for body, "we shan't get down till you go away!" Our every young lady was surveying us from under her eyelids sister Jane looked out, and threatened to "tell mamma as she sipped her cup inaudibly, and cut her bread into of our wicked conduct." Oh, very well!" muttered little pieces, to avoid the ungraciousness of bites. One I, and hastened round to where Miss Barbara St. Clair asked for a little more water, another for some sugar, was still seeking for her young ladies, like a hen after her another said "yes, please," to the question of more lost chickens, which I thought an appropriate image. bread and butter, all in the same small falsetto voice "Oh, Miss Barbara!" said I, "here are the young which was apparently proper to school, since we now ladies coming out of the hen-house!" Miss Barbara heard it proceeding from our sister Jane; but none ven- almost shrieked "The hen-house! The young ladies in tured to take more than one cup, and I distinguished a the hen-house!" There they were, too, all following slight titter when one of us made a request for a third. The one another down the ladder, and running off. "Young perspiration stood on my forehead at observing two girls ladies!" ejaculated Miss Barbara, in a solemn tone, opposite narrowly watching my motions, all of them hav-throwing up her hands, then catching hold of the last ing finished; when I wriggled in my chair, and almost little girl, "What have you been doing? Have you been

taking the eggs-eh, Hannah ?-speak girl! "No-o,

'The little birds with fluttering throats!'

Miss Barbara!" whined the little girl, "I don't like interrupted Miss Barbara, rising to a sublime pitch, and eggs!" "What did you go for then?" said Miss Bar-waving her book indignantly, do, young ladies! Go "We just-went-to look, ma'am," faltered Han- on you, Miss Braidwood.' "Go to bed, all of you!" continued Miss Barbara,

bara. nah.

""

'All Nature swells in-living-notes
To the-Crea-tor's-praise.'

sternly, "immediately! We shall inquire into it in
the morning. Such behaviour too, young ladies, for
these young gentlemen to witness!" "I hope, my dear whined out little Braidwood, in the very same key.
boys," said she, turning kindly to us, 'you will not be
injured by this bad example! Mischief and disobedience
are always very lamentable." "Yes ma'am," said both
Joe and I, looking much horrified, and as if resolved to
take care. But as we went home, we absolutely rolled
on the grass in delirious amusement at the scene in the
garden, and the "softness" of Miss Barbara; while we
gloried in having come off with flying colours, though
we regarded boarding-school girls from that day as not
quite so immaculate, and only inferior to boys from the
want of sharpness."

All Nature swells in living notes To the Creator's praise!" Girl Miss Barbara would hurry out, with grand, swelling emphasis, that sounded as if Nature and the little birds did exactly the opposite of what we did; but it was of no use, none of us could ever, or would rise above that flat note, or keep our syllables together. It couldn't be because we were afraid, but we were such a sad set of little hypocrites, Maggy." "Thank you, Mrs. Thornley Brown!" said Miss Gray, rising and curtseying; " many thanks, in the name of poor old Elm-House Seminary!' It was a good many years after this, and many things Pray speak for yourself, however, Jane, my dear! For happening had made them a perfect gulf, I was sitting that, now, I shall tell your brother a little anecdote of with our sister Jane, now married, and her boarding-you at Elm-House. Poor ugly little Monsieur Ricquotet, school friend, one of those very young ladies. We called the French master, had a very funny hat, and as it was up the adventure of the "hen-house," and laughed over the only man's thing of any kind, we took particular it. It brought on other stories, so that I had an oppor-pleasure in trying it on one after another, as it stood on tunity of being led into a great deal of the private eco- the lobby-table. One day Miss Jane had it on her head, nomy of old "Elm-House Seminary," as our favourite where it reached down to her chin, when Monsieur was boarding-school was called in those days. "Oh, such good heard coming, so she snatched it off and ran up stairs. creatures they were!" said Miss Gray, over and over Next day Monsieur Ricquotet came in more pompous than again; yet all the time she could not refrain from mimick-ever, and during the French lesson we thought there was ing, in her lively, good-humoured way, the manners, pe- something, from his important. solemn look, and his culiarities, speech, and ways in general of the two elder extravagant politeness. At last when we were done, and Misses St. Clair; while Miss Jessy again, who was no everybody in the school-room before dinner-time, the little longer alive, with her gentle sweetness and half-melan- Frenchman took a good-sized paper parcel from his pocket, choly expression, remained a sacred subject, or was men- stepped up to Miss Jane, and presented it with the utmost tioned only in love. "Do you remember, Jane," said formality. Meess- -,' said he, bowing-but he was very Margaret Gray, "how Miss St. Clair played with us once angry all the while- I haif de honour to return to you or twice at blindman's buff' when Miss Barbara was out? some of your propairtè which I haif fin? in my chapeau!' She was always caught, and I don't know whether you Everybody stared, and poor Jane, without knowing what were there when we left her one time alone in the dining-it could be, unrolled one envelope after another till she room, slipping about, with the handkerchief tight over came to a tortoise-shell side-comb, broken in two halves. her eyes, and thinking we kept close to the wall; till all It had stuck in Monsieur's hat, and he certainly hit upon of a sudden Miss Barbara came in from the town, and the right owner, having probably observed its companion was standing in utter amazement, when she was caught that afternoon. What a sensation there was! we titterby Miss St. Clair! Such a burst of laughter there was ing, the governess horrified, Miss Barbara indignant, and from us in the passage, in spite of our pocket-handker-poor Jane sinking with confusion! But Monsieur Ricquochiefs! Then Miss St. Clair's dancing! She absolutely tet did not need to hang up his hat afterwards, you may be bounced like a grenadier. And Miss Barbara's singing! sure!" "But had you never any more romantic incidents in such a little minikin voice, though she spoke so gruffly; than these?" said I, "I am sure there must have been a while Miss Jessy sat quietly smiling in her arm-chair. | vast amount of sentimentality, for instance, concentrated How afraid Miss St. Clair was of Miss Barbara's finding at Elm House!"""Oh, yes!" said Miss Gray, laughing, out any of our tricks, too! One evening, I recollect, we "but that is not for every one to know! There was a were all in the school-room, and amused ourselves with handsome confectioner-eh, Jane?-where we all used jumping one after another from the table upon Miss to buy tarts, and at home we quarrelled about which of Barbara's blue chair; Miss St. Clair came in, and asked us he was in love with: but the wretched man to our what we had been doing to make such a curious noise? great indignation went and married a dress-maker, so We were jumping-ma'am,' said little Eliza Braid- we withdrew our patronage. We had sometimes romantic wood, at last, in the small peeping tone we all spoke with adventures, on a small scale though, chiefly when out on to the ladies. Miss St. Clair looked, and saw the arm of our walk. I shall never forget one Saturday, when it the chair broken, but she pretended not to notice it. was Miss St. Clair's turn to go with us! She was very There!' said she, smoothing the table-cloth, but you fond of telling the names of the hills in the distance, must not jump any more, young ladies! I cannot allow which she invariably mistook; that day we wanted to go it! However, for this time I shall not tell Miss Barbara.' a particular way, and to humour Miss St. Clair I stuck fast The poor good woman was more afraid of Miss Barbara by her side, asking which was Ben so-and-so, and which knowing than we were; and next time Miss Barbara sat another thing. We were near the edge of the Park, down in her blue chair, the arm cracked, and she fell where it ran down into a wood of bushes and crags, which down, but thought it had been her own weight." we were very anxious to explore. Little Eliza Braidwood, who was generally deputed, on account of her littleness, to make requests, came back and said, 'Please Miss St. Clair, ma'am, may we go down into the wood? wood, child!' said Miss St. Clair, who had the most fearful idea of woods and wilds, don't think of such a thing! Besides, what would Barbara say? Is it not very dangerous?' added she, peeping cautiously over,

"Then, oh Maggy dear, the Poetry Hour,' do you remember it?" said Jane, laughing; "how we used to drawl out Miss Barbara's fine passages in that perpetual school whine.

'The-littel birds-with-flutter-ing-throats
Their-morning-an-them raise—'

began one of the girls.

The

"Let us exchange," said the man; "I will give you my horse, you shall give me your lump." "With all my heart," cried Jack; "but I warn you my load is a heavy one."

The rider jumped down and took the gold, then helped Jack upon the saddle, gave the reins into his hands, and showed him how to "click!" to his horse when he wanted to go faster. Jack was joyful and proud as he sat up there so bravely, and rode on so easily; but presently he fancied he should like a quicker trot, and gave a loud "click!" Off went the beast, and

countryman who was passing along driving a cow caught the mischievous animal as it trotted on, and then helped Jack to his legs.

"This riding is a bad joke," said the poor bruised lad,

never more will I mount such a jade as that. Commend me to your cow, one can jog behind her with some comfort, and get, besides, some milk, butter, and cheese. I wish I had a cow!"

66

Well," said the countryman, "if you would like mine, we'll exchange."

but beginning to relent when she saw our earnest wishes. 'No ma'am,' said little Eliza, in her small, pathetic sort of key, not forgetting the whine, It's very easy!' 'Well,' said Miss St. Clair at length, I suppose she was half ashamed of being so timorous as not to look further, If you're sure of that, you may go a little way, and I shall walk down by the road-now take care, young ladies!' Next moment we were all running down amongst the bushes, while Miss St. Clair went slowly round to the foot of the wood. We were in the wildest spirits, and scrambled through hazels and brambles into the thickest part of the slope; it was very steep, how-off went poor Jack into a ditch by the road-side! A ever, and gathering nuts and blackberries for a quarter of an hour we all slid down a bank, which there was no getting up again, to the top of an immense stone, with a perfect precipice under it. My frock was torn, and so was Jane's; little Eliza's bonnet was on the twig of a bramble out of our reach, while various other mishaps had befallen the rest. We glanced down and saw Miss St. Clair slowly walking along at the bottom, till she began to look up and call to us. 'Come down, young ladies!' we heard her crying out; and 'We can't!' screamed we. Suddenly a man, with two dogs, in a velveteen coat, a gun, and long pole in his hand, appeared coming along through the bushes near the foot. Hearing our voices, and observing our predicament, he was hastening up the wood, when we heard Miss St. Clair, in utter agony and alarm, shriek out, 'Oh! don't shoot them!' The man, however, soon got beside us; he helped us round the stone, lifted us in succession over the dangerous place, rescued Eliza's bonnet, and, as soon as he saw us safe, pursued his way. Jane and some of the others would have it he was a gentleman in sporting dress, and he was certainly young and good-looking. Miss St. Clair was too glad to scold us, but she was very sorry not to have an opportunity of giving the man a shilling, which we were as much rejoiced she had not. On getting home she made us all change our frocks immediately, and helped us herself to mend the tears, that Miss Barbara might not know anything of the matter! With all their humours, their particular starched ways, and their crossness sometimes, they were good creatures both of them, Jane-were n't they? And Miss Jessy--she was a perfect jewel—if ever there was one." The memory of that simple, old-fashioned place, always makes me think we used to be happy in the bygone days at "Elm House!" G. C.

Jack agreed with a thousand thanks, and the countryman, well pleased, mounted the horse and rode off. Jack drove his cow quietly before him, and thought over his good fortune.

"Whilst I have a bit of bread, I shall never be without butter and cheese to eat with it. When I am thirsty I need but milk my cow, and I have a drink. Oh! my heart, what more do you wish?"

When he reached an inn he made a halt, and his great content having given him an appetite, he eat up all the provisions he had with him, his dinner and supper all at once, and spent his last little piece of money for a glass of beer. Then he drove on his cow, hoping soon to arrive at his old mother's house. The heat became great as mid-day approached, and when Jack had crossed a heath, which cost him an hour's good travelling, he was so hot and thirsty that his tongue clove to his palate. "At any rate," thought he, "I can help myself. I will milk my cow and quench my thirst."

He thereupon tied her to a withered tree, and placed his leathern cap as a pail; but however much he tried, not a drop of milk could he bring forth. And this was not the worst, for the impatient beast gave him such a kick on the head with her hind leg, that he tumbled to the earth, and lay for a long time without consciousness. Happily a butcher, with a young pig in a wheel-barrow, passed that way—

"What joke is this?" cried he, as he helped poor Jack up.

Jack related the whole affair. The butcher gave him a drink from his flask.

"Take a good pull,” said he, "and you will be well again presently. Your cow is an old beast, only fit to be slaughtered."

"Oh," cried Jack, "that is glorious; it is grand to have a lot of meat in the house! And yet I don't much care for beef; it is not juicy enough for me. Had I only a young pig!"

"Why, my good Jack," said the butcher, "for love of you I don't mind changing with you; you shall have the pig for the cow."

May God reward your friendship!" cried Jack. The butcher loosed the pig from the barrow, gave the rope with which it was tied into his hand, and they parted.

Jack pursued his journey with a grateful heart. He thought of his good luck-how all his wishes were gratified--and how, if things at any time went wrong, all was presently made straight again.

He soon met a lad carrying a beautiful white goose under his arm. They stopped to talk awhile, and Jack related his good fortune, and how advantageously he had