that Molly and Nancy and Tim were grinning not far from him. Perhaps he suspected that sour old John was grinning behind him- which was also the fact. Meanwhile the bull-dog, the black-and-tan terrier, Alick's sheep-dog, and the gander hissing at a safe distance ↳ from the pony's heels, carried out the idea of Mrs. Poyser's solo in an impressive quartet. Mrs. Poyser, however, had no sooner seen the pony move off than she turned round, gave the two hilarious damsels a look which drove them into the back kitchen, 10 and unspearing her knitting, began to knit again with her usual rapidity, as she re-entered the house. "Thee'st done it now," said Mr. Poyser, a little alarmed, and uneasy, but not without some triumphant amusement at his wife's outbreak. 15 "Yis, I know I've done it," said Mrs. Poyser; "but I've had my say out, and I shall be th' easier for't all my life. There's no pleasure i' living if you're to be corked up foriver, and only dribble your mind out by the sly, like a leaky barrel. I sha'n't repent saying 20 what I think if I live to be as old as the old Squire, and there's little likelihoods-for it seems as if them as aren't wanted here are th' only folks as aren't wanted i' th' other world." "But thee wotna like moving from th' old place this 25 Michaelmas twelvemonth," said Mr. Poyser, "and going into a strange parish, where thee know'st nobody. It'll be hard upon us both, and upo' father too." "Eh, it's no use worreting; there's plenty o' things may happen between this and Michaelmas twelvemonth. 30 The Captain may be master afore then, for what we know," said Mrs. Poyser, inclined to take a hopeful view of an embarrassment which had been brought about by her own merit, and not by other people's fault. "I'm none for worreting," said Mr. Poyser, rising from his three-cornered chair and walking slowly towards the door; "but I should be loath to leave th' old place, and the parish where I was bred and born, and father afore me. We should leave our roots behind us, I doubt, and niver thrive again.” 5 XXXIV. THE ISLES OF GREECE. BY LORD BYRON.' THE isles of Greece, the isles of Greece! Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung! The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse; The mountains look on Marathon" I dream'd that Greece might still be free; I could not deem myself a slave. 10 15 20 A king sat on the rocky brow And men in nations-all were his! And where are they? and where art thou, The heroic bosom beats no more! 'Tis something, in the dearth of fame, Even as I sing, suffuse my face; Must we but weep o'er days more blest? A remnant of our Spartan dead! What! silent still? and silent all? Ah, no-the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall, And answer, "Let one living head, But one, arise-we come, we come!" 'Tis but the living who are dumb. In vain-in vain: strike other chords; And shed the blood of Scio's vine! You have the Pyrrhic" dance as yet, The nobler and the manlier one? Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! He serv'd-but serv'd Polycrates A tyrant; but our masters then The tyrant of the Chersonese 5 10 15 Was freedom's best and bravest friend ; That tyrant was Miltiades. 20 Oh that the present hour would lend Another despot of the kind! Such chains as his were sure to bind. Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! Such as the Doric mothers bore; 25 30 5 Trust not for freedom to the Franks—' 15 They have a king who buys and sells; The only hope of courage dwells. Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! 16 Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, XXXV. READING FOR PROFIT. BY JOHN MORLEY.' It is not necessary for me to dwell upon any of the great commonplaces which the follower of knowledges does well to keep always before his eyes, and which represent the wisdom of many generations of studious. experience. You may have often heard from others, or may have found out, how good it is to have on your 20 |