and read till the arrival of her music-master made her regret she had not spent the time in practising for him. If any body would paste the paper on her drawing-board, or draw the pattern for her work, her drawing and her work were done; if not, week after week passed away in listless idleness. She had continued to put in stitch after stitch in her embroidery, notwithstanding repeated intimations that it was time to dress; and her toilette was not completed, when Charlotte Austin, with somewhat of the impatience of ten years old, burst into the room, exclaiming, "Florence, make haste: dinner is come out; dinner is come out. Oh! I am glad to see you are ready: papa will forgive Amy, and not send us all away for being late,'

Florence. Hush, you little rude thing: Amy is a visitor, you know. But mamma will be very angry with you, Charlotte: you have been watching on the stairs, as usual.

I stood

Charlotte. No, indeed, Florence. at the library door, and only took one little peep.

Florence. I wish you would do exactly what mamma bids you: you went to the school-room, but why do you not stay there?

Charlotte. Miss Fanshawe was in her own

room, and it was so lonely; but I will another time.

Florence. Do, dear Charlotte, and you will not get into so many scrapes; but come down: Amy is ready now: we shall not be too late; it still wants five minutes of seven.

SATURDAY EVENING.

He

The young party were welcomed with many kindly greetings by Mr. and Mrs. Austin, and their eldest son Gerald, and were soon seated round a cheerful fire. Amy had not seen Gerald before, for he had been absent from home. was a tall, slight, gentlemanly, youth, and his first address reminded her of what she had heard the family apothecary say before dinner, that Mr. Gerald was a good scholar, a very good scholar, but a leetle of the dandy. It must be confessed he had somewhat of the eldest son in his manner, but he was generous, honourable, and affectionate; studious in his habits, and fond of music, poetry, and general literature.

When the young children were dismissed to the nursery, Mr. Austin said, "I think it is your

turn, my little Charlotte, to furnish us with an anecdote."

Charlotte. Oh papa, I forgot it was my turn. Florence, what shall I do? I must not tell the story of Alexander and his Horse, that was called Bucephalus, because it had the head of a cow; nor "Cæsar's Fortunes ;" nor Caractacus. Did I tell the story of the Frenchman who was employed to bring two coffee plants to Martinique, and when there was so little water on board the ship that he only got a very little for his own share, he divided it every day with the two plants, just as mamma would do with Willy and Jessy, and saved their lives?

Florence. I am sorry to say we have heard that more than once.

Mr. Austin. It is early yet: we will give you time to think of something. Amy, where did you walk to to-day? I saw you at a distance, as you were crossing the park, and called to you to wait till I came up, but the wind was high, and prevented you hearing me.

Amy. I wish we had, dear uncle: we had such a pleasant walk on Clansdown.* I never

• In Surrey.

saw any thing so pretty as the dark yews in the snow it is a pity that most of them are hollow. Florence, and Miss Fanshawe, and I, took shelter in one of them when the shower came on. I wish I had a work table made of one of the solid

ones.

Mr. Austin. In spring the contrast of the white thorns in full blossom on the Downs is perhaps even more beautiful than the snow at this season; but I forgot your peculiar admiration of snow. Susan, do you remember her extravagant delight the first time she saw a hail storm after she came from India?

Mrs. Austin. Yes, when she said the angels were throwing down comfits, because she had been a good girl, and had said her lesson well.

Gerald reminded his mother of Saladin and the Knight of the Leopard, in the Talisman, and Mr. Austin continued:

"Those yews on Clansdown, Amy, are upwards of eight hundred years old; they are registered in Doomsday Book. Our ancestors would have been much surprised at the proposition of making a lady's work table of the wood."

Edward. What use was made of it, papa? Mr. Austin. The yew is the best wood for

bows, and archery was the pride of England. For the use of the bowmen yews were always planted in church-yards, because they were secure from injury. Every parish was by law obliged to practise archery at stated times in the year; and, after the bow was almost entirely laid aside as a weapon of offence, archery was enjoined to youth as a healthful exercise. By the original statutes of Harrow School, in the reign of Elizabeth, every person who sent a boy to the school was ordered to allow him a bow, three shafts, bow strings, and a bracer; and when I was there, in remembrance of the old custom, we had an annual shooting match for a silver arrow.

Edward. I wish archery was a sort of school lesson now there would be no danger of accidents if we were all in lines like soldiers shooting at a mark. I wish I had lived at the time of the battle of Cressy; how I would have shot my arrows with the Black Prince: he was not much older than I am, only five years.

Florence. Gentlemen were not bowmen, I believe they fought with a lance and sword. When was the bow laid aside in war, papa?

Mr. Austin.' Archers were employed long after the introduction of fire-arms. One half of