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were the towering old trees, with every limb and | twig powdered over with the hoar frost, and the grass glistening with myriads of sparkling diamonds, like an endless succession of fairy lights. A brook, in the distance, that babbled and murmured over its pebble bed in the spring and summer time, was now fast locked in the iron grasp of winter; and the moor-hen and gay-feathered teal had to seek their scanty fare among the frozen sedges, instead of diving below its rippling surface. The large and thick hawthorn bush, speckled with scarlet berries, and which always caught the first gleams of the sun, began to shed a rolling drops from every brier, and fell patting upon the dried and withered leaves beneath. A robin, perched upon a topmost twig, was whistling his winter song, and a hungry mavis gathered his early breakfast from the plenty spread for his repast, when the worm remained in her earthy home. “Egad!” exclaimed John Hardy, rubbing his hands together briskly, "what a bright, bracing morning it is! I feel that I could play leap-frog with the poplars!"

At this moment, a figure became visible from behind a screen of laurels at the eastern corner of the house, and the long, narrow shadow thrown before, preceded by some half-score yards the body from which it was cast.

"What, Mike! is that you so early?" inquired John Hardy.

"And your servant, Sir," replied Mike: "it is." "Is there any thing particular, then ?" rejoined John, suppressing his voice to a scarcely audible tone. Mike stretched his hands and long arms into the fathomless pockets of his trousers, (for, like some parts of the ocean, they had no bottom,) tipped the battered remains of an extremely shabby hat upon the end of his nose, and gave a slow and measured nod of inexpressible significance. "Is it a covey under a hedge?" said John, in a hoarse whisper.

Mike's head conveyed a negative.
"A hare in her form?"

The negative was repeated.

"Have ye harboured an outlying deer?" Again Mike expressed a silent, No; and, lifting a finger, beckoned his examiner to come closer, previous to his making the communication.

In a few minutes-for it took some minutes to unbar and unbolt the heavy entrance to the Range -John Hardy, muffled up in a red woollen comforter, which threatened to choke him, and a long camlet cloak, causing him to trip at every second step, stood within conferring distance.

“Well! and what is it, Mike?” said he. "I beg your pardon, Sir," replied Mike; "but-" and then he checked himself abruptly, and gave a vacant look into the air immediately above his head. This was exceedingly mysterious; and John expressed his astonishment by elevating his eyebrows, and adding the monosyllable, "What?" "You'll not be offended, Sir?"

"I know of no cause, Mike," replied John Hardy," and I hope there's none for me to learn." "It wasn't altogether my fault," rejoined Mike, by way of a preface.

"That you must leave for me to judge. We are not to decide upon our deeds or our misdeeds." "Right or wrong, hit or miss," returned Mike, recklessly, "here goes. But I fear," added he, with a sigh, "that I've been and done it." "Done what?"

"Myself, Sir," replied Mike, giving himself a melodramatic thump upon his bosom. "Yes, Mr. Hardy, I fear that I've hashed myself very brown!" "Speak plainly," responded John. "Don't deal with me in riddles.”

"I will, Sir," added Mike. "Then, what I mean to say is, I'm cut grass!" "You've been pilfering," said John, shaking his head in an admonitory manner, "and been found out."

"I may have been collecting a few stray articles, Mr. Hardy," replied Mike, who invariably designated his appropriation of other persons' goods and chattels by this mild description, "but I'm not the fool to be caught round a corner. No, Sir; that's not the addled egg in my nest!"

66 Then, what is?"

Mike sighed, and thus began the relation of his wo :

“A bad name, Mr. Hardy, often prevents a poor fellow from getting a good meal of victuals, and it may be on account of this that I've often felt so precious hungry. Thanks be to you, Sir, however, I've been able many a time to take my stomach by surprise, and astonish it with a lining that considerably strengthened its sinking weakness. Indeed, Sir, I'll make the confession, that I've looked upon you, of late, as a cold joint in the cupboard -a circumstance that might be cut and come again at. This was my hope; this my belief till late last night; but now I feel, Mr. Hardy,"Mike almost blubbered," it's all my eye and Betty Martin!"

"What have you been doing, then, to forfeit my occasional assistance?" said John.

"I'll tell the truth," replied Mike, after a short pause, as if speculating upon the expediency of alleging the opposite. "I'll tell the truth, Mr. Hardy, although it's like tugging my teeth out whenever I try. While cooling my heels in the village, just after the mail passed through, and thinking how hard it was that I never was asked to harvest-homes or winter frolics, in the same way that other Christians were, and not a halfpenny in my pouch to get a whiff of tobacco, by way of a plaster to the sore, a woman, muffled up so that I couldn't see her face, and by her voice I knew to be a stranger, asked me if I knew a gentleman of your name.

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ing a shilling for the job, she placed the basket in [ been wiped out with the facility that the trace of

my arms, saying, 'Be sure and keep the lid up, and don't jolt it.'

"Is it glass?' I inquired.

"Not exactly,' replied she; but it requires quite as much care, and, the more you take of it, the greater may be your reward some day.'

"Am I to deliver any message with it?' said I. "No,' she returned, walking quickly away; and I thought I heard a sound soon afterwards, as if she was trying to hide a considerable flood of tears; but that might be only my fancy.

"The load was not a heavy one, and I was running with it down here, when a wicked thought jumped into my head that it was a Christmas present from some one of your friends, Mr. Hardy ; and, knowing how you deserved to be treated, I couldn't help suspecting there might be much more than you wanted."

Mike hesitated to proceed.

"Go on," said John; "I shall not feel offended if you adhere to the truth, whatever you did."

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"It's cheerful to hear you say so, Sir," resumed Mike. 'Thinking," continued he, " that it might be a nice fat turkey, two or three capons, some sausages, with two or three odds and ends of the same kind, I considered it would be no great loss if I cabbaged a supper or so out of the lot, particularly if you didn't miss it. It was very wrong, Sir, to think of serving your property in such a way; but a hungry dog shows very little respect to fat or lean."

"And so, I suppose," interrupted John, with a smile, although he flattered himself that he was looking majestically stern, and unprecedentedly savage: and so, I suppose," repeated he, "that you helped yourself?"

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"Not in the way you may chance to think, Sir," returned Mike. "Being unable to withstand the temptation," he continued, "I hastened home with the load, instead of keeping the straight path to you, and, no sooner there, than I out with my knife, and cut the cord laced round the top of the hamper."

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"It was very wrong, Mike," said John, with as much gravity as he could muster. Really, it was very wrong."

"I know it was, Mr. Hardy," replied Mike, "and I feel it, as the parson says we should feel our sins-in'ards. However, what's undone cannot be done in many cases; and so I found it with the basket. Prepare your eyes, Sir, prepare your eyes, Sir," repeated he; "for they may be more inclined to fly out of your head than mine were, and if so, spectacles will be of no use straddling across your nose for the time to come. What do you suppose, Mr. Hardy," continued Mike, in a slow, measured tone, which conveyed much more than his words, "met my sight at the bottom of that hamper?"

"Heaven knows!" ejaculated John.

"And so do I, Sir," rejoined Mike; "and dropping his voice to a husky whisper, he added-" it was a sleeping baby."

"A what?" shouted John Hardy, while the colour forsook his cheeks as suddenly as if it had

rouge is expunged with a damp cloth-"A what?" hallooed he.

"A baby," returned Mike. "Perhaps," continued he, "not quite a yearling."

The intelligence staggered John Hardy, and completely overwhelmed him. He could do nothing but open and shut his eyes, as if they smarted intensely from the contents of a snuff-box being jerked into them, and his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth, mute with astonishment.

"It's true," resumed Mike. "There lay a fat, chubby babe on a little handful of straw, as fast asleep as a dormouse in winter."

"And-and-and what did you do with it, Mike?" inquired John, with feelings little less enviable than a bilious person at sea extremely qualmish.

"I'll not act, said I to myself, in delivering this package as if I didn't know what was in it," replied Mike; "but I'll go and tell Mr. Hardy what has happened, and do like some of the unfortunate chaps do at quarter-sessions, by throwing myself upon the mercy of the court. Well, Sir, I lifted the baby as tenderly as I could by the nape of the neck, and shoved it into my bed, which was no sooner done than it set up such a squeal that all but deafened me. After, however, a little tenderness, and a few soft words, such as mothers use, mixed with a slight flavour of damns for the trouble, and letting it have an old stocking to suck, for want of better nourishment, it became pretty quiet, and grumbled itself again to sleep. After that, I ran down to the Range for the purpose of seeing you, Sir, and

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Mike broke short off in his narrative.

John gave a sickly nod of encouragement for him to proceed.

"I did see you, Mr. Hardy," continued he, emphatically; "but not in a mood to listen." "What was I doing?" asked John, with potent misgivings upon the policy of his question.

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Stretching yourself upon the floor of the servants' hall," replied Mike, struggling to conceal a laugh.

"Go on," said John Hardy, in the tone of one considering himself a martyr to circumstances. "Tell me what followed, Mike."

"I kept my own counsel," responded Mike, "and returned home, intending to seek you as early as I could this morning, to inform you of the business before any body was stirring.

"That was careful and wise of ye, Mike," added John. "But what became of the-the infant?"

"It nestled in my arms, Sir," replied Mike, "and if I hadn't lain upon it now and then accidentally, I don't think it would have cried much. As it was, my beginning in the nursing line didn't prove so pleasant that I want to have a second bout of it."

"Is it a girl or a boy?" asked John.

"I can't say, Mr. Hardy," responded Mike; “for I'm not over curious in such matters.”

"Was there no letter in the basket?" "None that I could find," returned Mike. "There was a card tied round the neck of the child

and there was some writing upon it; but as I can't read, of course I don't know what it means."

"Come, then," added John, "we'll go to your cabin, Mike, and endeavour to unriddle this mystery.'

Mike had been his own architect and builder in the erection of his edifice, which comprised one room of no particular shape, and designed to hold not more than one person at a time, except squeezing and crushing was resorted to. This mansion in miniature, which Mike distinguished as his "kennel," was situated on the border of an extensive common or waste belonging to the Squire; and which, from the thick patches of gorse mingled with the dwarf blackberry bush, and tall, withered, and rank grass growing here and there, afforded a secure covert for the fox and the badger, the owl and the night-hawk, and other wanderers in the stilly night, whom Mike was fond of listening to when brooding before the dying embers of his lone fireside. The walls of his house were composed of dried furze and clay, and the roof was rudely thatched with bulrushes and sedges from a neighbouring slimy and stagnant pool. Door there was none; but a thick faggot, which could be removed at pleasure, performed the office, and a stake thrust through the centre so as to catch the two posts marking the entrance, made a very good substitute in the shape of an effective barricade.

The internal arrangements of Mike's establishment were of the most primitive order. A round log of wood, of about three feet in height, was the | only seat that he had to air himself before the fire on; while a square piece of board, placed at will across his knees, or on the floor, took the place of a more legitimate table when Mike, fortunately, had any use for one. The only other articles of household furniture consisted of a tea-kettle, which had been picked from the obscurity of a ditch, having, in the estimation of its late owner, become quite past tinkering, and a bed, composed of a bundle of straw, stitched up in a ragged piece of canvass. The covering to this unique couch, whereon Mike courted "the honey heavy dew of slumber," was composed of dried but untanned skins of badgers, which, although warm and nearly impenetrable to cold, sent forth a strong and somewhat offensive smell. All in all, "the kennel" was an establishment remarkable for originality of design in economy of its details and the strict observance with which they were carried out.

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"I left him asleep," said Mike, in a whisper, as he drew the faggot from the entrance. “ Him, eh ?”

"Well, Sir!" expostulated Mike. "It must be

had caused it to raise a dimpled hand across its brow as a shade to the dazzling light. Long and dark lashes fringed its eyelids, and a thin line was drawn in an arch above them as if marked by a pencil. A smile-and a smile only that infants wear when very happy-played upon its lip, pouting as if stung by some envious bee, and light flaxen and silky locks crisped themselves round and about its head. Beauty in all things is a powerful though silent advocate; but in nothing is it more so than in infancy; and if ever this pleader to human sympathies wore a more captivating garb than was her wont, when luring the better feelings of our nature to good and praiseworthy purposes, then, indeed, she never was arrayed in more pleasing form than in this sleeping | child.

"Upon my word," said John Hardy, stooping over the little unconscious slumberer, "it's a nice, plump, rosy-cheeked fellow," and as he spoke he bent his lips downwards and imprinted a kiss which, for its warmth and heartiness, sounded any thing but coming from the lips of a stranger.

"What does this say?" continued John, taking his spectacles from his pocket; and placing them on a convenient ledge on his nose, he commenced reading the superscription upon a large square card suspended about the neck of his charge. "Humph! it's difficult to make out," said John, endeavouring to obtain a proper focus. ،، ، Be-what oh ! 'BE A FATHER TO THE FATHERLESS.' Upon my life ! " exclaimed he, arriving at a conclusion of the sentence so illegibly scrawled, and looking over his glasses, "this is no joke. The fatherless no doubt must be in want of a father; but really I ought not to be called upon to make good the defi| ciency, eh, Mike ? "

"Certainly not, Mr. Hardy," replied Mike, making a dive with his hands into his bottomless pockets, and giving sundry nods of approval to this sentiment of his patron. "Certainly not, Sir," repeated he.

"What's to be done then?"

"We can set it aside,” rejoined Mike, cool as a cucumber in the dewy morn. "What do you

"Set it aside!" repeated John. mean?"

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"You're aware what people do when they've either a him or a her, and it's the toss up of a half-more kittens than they want, Sir?" added Mike. penny which it is."

"That's true, Mike," returned John, with a sage shake of the head, 66 that's very true."

Upon entering the limited apartment, John perceived the object of their discourse muffled in the unodoriferous coverlet, stretched on Mike's humble pallet, and in the full enjoyment of a peaceful sleep. A bright ray of sunshine had struggled through a crevice in the wall, and streaked itself upon the child's closed eyes; and this, perhaps,

John gave a silent assent.

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been for his attention being suddenly called to the waking child, he might have said something correspondent with his grave expression.

Our affections are often influenced by the veriest trifles. A look, a smile, a well-timed word, have won and put a seal upon many a heart. No sooner were the eyes of the child opened and fixed on John's, than he felt-to use his own graphic description-completely done for.

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"You little rogue," said he, squeezing its cheeks considerably out of their natural shape, "you sha'n't be set aside. No, no, no. Whoever you may be, and wherever you may be from, I'll take care of that;" and never doubt John kept his word. It was worse than useless for John to argue, reason, expostulate, cajole, or threaten, when bantered-and when was there a day that he was not?-about the contents of the hamper. The Squire roared with glee at this inexhaustible subject, and insisted upon expressing his belief that John was a closer relative to the boy-for a boy he turned out to be-than he was fain to admit. Yes, yes," he would say, "the saddle's put on the right horse. This accounts for the place in town,' and all that smoke is blown away. Oh, John, I little thought that you were a gay deceiver!" Then John eloquently and emphatically denied the soft impeachment, and asserted that there was no more cause for the accusation than if a dead goose had been consigned to him instead of a fat baby. He gained, however, nothing by this defence; and finding the difficulty unsurpassable of being able to prove the negative, he at length abandoned the attempt, and submitted in a kind of miserable resignation to the squibs that were so plentifully fired at his expense.

"I can't help it," John Hardy sighed, "I can't help it, if you'll not believe a man upon his honour;" and then he placed a hand in a most effective manner upon his waistcoat, and pressed it energetically.

Whether the Squire gave credence to John's negation within himself, is a question that might be answered with safety in the affirmative; but for the mirth which the pretence in disbelieving it excited, he continued to express a total want of faith in the declaration of innocence.

"Has he recovered from the measles?" asked the Squire, breaking off at a tangent.

66

"Yes, thank God!" replied John, regaining a look of pleasure. "I was at dame Woodley's cottage this morning, and I found him as merry as a singing bird."

"Does the old woman still think him an angel wafted from heaven in a basket?”

"Yes," returned John, laughing, "his nurse sticks to the creed of such being the mode of his coming to me."

"Well," added the Squire, "it's an original method, certainly."

"I have ordered him to be christened to-morrow," observed John.

"Who are to be the sponsors?" asked the Squire.

"Dame Woodley and Mike,” replied John. "It was a particular desire of Mike to become his godfather."

"Ha, ha, ha," laughed the Squire. "I fear that Mike is sadly deficient in those duties which he undertakes to see performed."

Time never slackens his speed: on he goes without let, check, or stop. The seasons round, night and day he wings his flight, as though he had an end to gain; and yet to Time there is no end. So years flee away, and ages roll, and the to-morrows, from infancy to age, are but the echoes of our yesterdays.

It was a bright and beautiful morning in early spring. Daisies pied and buttercups were thickly scattered over the meadows, and sweeter flowers drew with their fragrant breath the honey-bee from its hive, now sadly deficient in the thrifty store leased for the winter gone. That joyous herald of nature's coming charms, the careless butterfly, vain of its fresh-fledged plumes, flitted from bud to blossom, and dipped into many a varied cup, and rifled the depths of the pale cowslip and the daffodil, and kissed the lip of every opening flower in his path. Frugal ants issued from their homes, delved in the dry and dusty earth, and hastened to tasks of industry while the sun was up and shining brightly. Happy, light-hearted birds trilled ringing songs from every bush and bough; and not a creature, not a thing but looked 66 Why was the child sent to you if 66 had no gay you as a younker prancing to his love." hand in the matter?" asked he, as they sat sipping By the verge of a narrow stream, in whose bed their wine some six months after the occurrence. patches of dark-green sedges reared themselves to sigh and rustle in the breeze, Mike Crouchsomewhat older by a few fleeting years, but yet unchanged in custom or manner-strolled at daybreak. With measured tread he walked along the bank, and every now and then stopped to examine any soft oozy spot that must easily yield an impression to the lightest footfall. Occasionally be grasped the trunk of an overhanging tree to assist him in his work of close inspection, and after assuring himself that the object of his search had not been there to give him a hint of his where abouts, he continued to pace leisurely along, and to brush the heavy dew from the green sward.

"How should I know, Harry?" replied John, slightly ruffled with the subject under discussion. "It was an accident-a sort of come-by-chance, I suppose."

"But why fix upon you in preference to anybody else?"

66

Now, there you are baiting me again!" ejaculated John. "I wish you'd drop the affair. I have told you before," continued he, slapping his crossed dexter leg, "and I tell ye again, Harry, that I know nothing more of the boy than the man in the moon. I can't tell how he came-"

"Yes you can," interrupted the Squire: "it was in a hamper, you recollect."

"Neither can I say who from," resumed John, without noticing the interruption.

"I suppose," said Mike, soliloquizing, "that Master Tom will find me out presently. I won der," continued he, "that he hasn't done so ere this."

Scarcely were the words spoken, when a small figure was seen bounding forwards, followed by a large shaggy deerhound of the purest breed. His broad deep chest, and long stalwart limbs, were formed for the strength of a lion; and his courage was unquestionable, from the full, flashing eye under his bristled brows.

"Oh, here he comes!" observed Mike, catching a glimpse of the approach of the object of his thoughts.

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Ha, ha, Mike! kind, good, old Mike!" cried a young voice, in the very exuberance of unchecked youthful spirits.

"Yes, yes," replied Mike, shaking a raised finger of admonition, “ that's the way you come | over me, Master Tom, when breaking orders. You know very well what Mr. Hardy said about coming out so early as this."

"Never mind," rejoined the boy, who might have seen some eight or ten summers,-"never mind what he says, Mike. I love to be with you all day long."

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'But you must mind what he says," returned Mike, sternly; "and as for being with me all day long, you should like the company of your books much better."

"I can't, Mike," added Master Tom poutingly. "I can't like books. I hate them all, every one." "Exactly so," said Mike, diving his hands into his still bottomless pockets, and bearing in his illfavoured face the expression of a martyr. "Exactly so," repeated he, "and then I get blamed for such notions. Only yesterday, after our ramble for birds' eggs, Mr. Hardy told me that I was spoiling of ye, and making ye as great a vagabond as myself."

"Don't be angry," replied the boy, placing his hand upon the head of the dog, and looking at Mike supplicatingly. "Safeguard and me are never happy except with you, and when I would remain at home, he won't let me."

"What do you mean?" asked Mike with a smile.

"He looks into my face, and licks my hands, and goes to the door and whines," rejoined Master Tom in his plea of justification, "and at last I feel that I must do as he wants me."

"A very pretty sort of a sermon that is!" returned Mike, "And so you obey a dog instead of Mr. Hardy, who, as Dame Woodley says, if ever a saint wore double-milled bottle-green superfine cloth, is decidedly one of the tip-top order. I should like to know whether you can expect to go up'ards?" and the speaker pointed with indubitable signification to the blue and ethereal vault of heaven.

"I never heard you preach before," added Master Tom with an air of discontent.

"I hope, then, you'll profit by the first hearing," said Mike, "and remember that you must try to please your benefactor before Safeguard."

"What is a benefactor?" inquired the boy. "A chap that gives one wittles and drink for nothing," responded Mike. "That's what I call a prime sort of a benefactor, and no mistake about his pedigree."

"I'll try and do as you tell me," said the boy, "for I suppose Mr. Hardy is what you call my benefactor."

"I should just think," replied Mike deliberately, while he endeavoured to thrust his fingers through some exceedingly coarse and matted hair, sticking out from under his damaged and battered hat. "I should just think," repeated he, "that Mr. Hardy is the cream of your milk, Master Tom; and it's your duty, which you should like as your play, and perhaps a little better, to make that old gentleman as comfortable by your behaviour, as a treacle posset does a damp stomach."

“I will, then, Mike, I will, indeed," rejoined Master Tom, evidently affected by Mike's homily. "In that case," added Mike, "I shall, out of school hours, and at such times and seasons that you're not more profitably occupied, be glad to teach ye fishing, or any other pastime o' the sort; but for the future we must n't be seen so much together, Master Tom."

"What are you looking for?" asked the boy, as his companion regarded a raised lump of black mud not far from the edge of the stream, and on which a few osiers sprouted. "When I've found what I'm after," replied Mike, "I'll show ye."

"Tell me now," rejoined the boy.

"By a bishop's wig," swore Mike, "women and children are as full of curiosity as sound nuts are full of kernels. Humph!" continued he, striding without much regard to the wetting of his feet, into the water, and looking with intense interest at some indentures in the mud; "then he's down the stream, as I expected?"

"Who is down the stream?" inquired his companion.

"An otter, Master Tom," replied Mike; "and if I may judge by his seals, as large a varmint as ever cracked the spine of a trout."

"Let's find him, Mike," rejoined the boy, clapping his hands with delight. "What fun we had with the last we speared?"

"Well!" exclaimed Mike, examining Master Tom with a slow gaze, from his booted heel to the curls dancing about his forehead, "I am rasped! What had you to do with the spearing of him, I should like to know?"

"I did my best to help ye," returned his companion, "and got out of my depth twice in keeping him from a drain."

"That's true enough," added Mike, clapping the boy between his shoulders, “that's true enough," repeated he; "and if you'll keep a mute tongue between your teeth, we'll have a bit of sport all to ourselves this morning."

"Shall I go home for the dogs?" asked the boy.

"No, no," replied Mike. "We've dogs enough if we find him. Safeguard's a team in himself, and is always ready for any thing from a cockroach to an elephant."

Cautiously Mike dragged down the stream, and every now and then cheered the hound to hit off the scent.

"Wind him, Safeguard; drag on him!" cried

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