Think, lady, think of your joys and your fears,
But forget in the past all your sighs and your tears.

In the days that are gone, though we cannot forget
The hopes that were blighted, the joys that are fled;
And the places deserted by those that we met,

Tell of sorrows that last, and of friends that are dead;
Think, lady, think of your joys and your fears,
And forget, if you can, all your sighs and your tears.

When the past you recal, oh! let the brief hours

Alone be remembered that pleasure beguiles;
Dwell on the thoughts that were cull'd from the flowers,
Nurtured by bliss, and cherished with smiles.

Think, lady, think of your joys and your fears;
But forget in the past all your sighs and your tears."

"Beautifully sung," said the curate, offering his hand politely to Kate, and leading her from the instrument.

"Yes, parson, I think that'll do," added the squire, looking at his child with pride. and pleasure. As he continued to gaze on her, a tear rose in his eyes, and would have fallen, had he not brushed it hastily away. Its spring was the memory of one bright and beautiful as the being before him, but who now lay slumbering in the earth, a bleached skeleton; yet still beloved by him as when she stood, warm with life and health, plighting her heart to his, a willing, blushing bride.

CHAPTER VII.

THE BATTUE.

"See how the morning opes her golden gates,
And takes her farewell of the glorious sun!
How well resembles it the prime of youth,
Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love!"

Ir was a clear October morning as the squire, Wilmott, and his friend Titley, took their way towards an extensive cover, on the verge of the Scourfield estate. Peter followed in their wake, with Jack Tiggle leading, or rather pulling back, two brace of spaniels, coupled and leashed; while six roundfaced bumpkins, with long ash-sticks in their hands, brought up the rear. The gamekeeper carried the squire's double-barrel, and admired the polished piece with the same feelings that an artist would the choice production of a Claude or a Rembrandt.

He

clicked the locks, and the clear springs sounded to him like the tone of a sweet melody.

"Ah!" exclaimed Peter, with a sigh of admiration, "you're a clipper."

"You handle a gun better than you sit a horse, Titley," said the squire.

"Pon my honour, I'm much indebted for the compliment," replied Titley, who shouldered his gun in sportsmanlike style.

"Have you had much practice?" asked the squire.

"I may say that I have,” he replied.

"Oh, oh! you have, eh?" said the squire.

Yes; in town I pass three hours of my morning constantly in the shooting-gallery," added Titley.

The squire looked at Wilmott, who smiled and said, "He's a capital shot with a pistol. I saw him split four bullets on the edge of a knife, out of six, at twelve paces."

"At the trap fortune generally favours me," continued Titley. "I killed twenty pigeons in succession at twenty-five yards, the day previous to my arrival here.”

66

Come, come, then we shall see some of the long tails topple to earth to-day," said the squire, in whose favour Titley continued to rise, from the morning he "tilly-hooed" a squirrel.

They now arrived at the wood, when the squire directed his friends to choose their places as they thought the most desirable.

"I'll go up the centre for my chance," said Wilmott.

"And I'll take the top, with your approbation," said Titley to the squire.

"Certainly. You shall have one corner, and I'll have the other. But, mark what I say," said the squire; "it's rather narrow where we shall stand, so that we must be close together; but never mind me. Take them right and left, over my head, any way that you've the chance. I shall get more than I want, for most will break from the end."

Each had taken his position. Peter heard the word "ready!" from his master, and to his signal the spaniels were slipped, the beaters leaped into the underbrush, with Jack Tiggle

as leader, and Peter was left alone to "mark" and conduct the approaching slaughter, with the judgment of an experienced general.

In a few moments after the disturbers had effected an entrance, the dogs "gave tongue,' and made the air ring again with their noisy cries. The boys hallooed, and thrashed the bushes with their poles. Now a frightened rabbit, with pricked ears, ran to the edge of the wood, pursued by a yelping spaniel; then, seeing a more-to-be-feared biped than quadruped, nimbly skipped in again.

"Mark! mar-r-rk!" shouted Peter, as his quick ear caught the flap of a pheasant's wing.

Bang went Wilmott's gun, as he caught a glimpse of the rainbow-plumaged bird, topping some nut-wood. The leaves fell in thick showers to the ground; but on went the bird unharmed. Again he saw him between the forked branch of an elm. The hills echoed his second charge; but still with outstretched neck the gay fellow pursued his course. High over the trees he mounted in a direct line to

VOL. I.

G