tion of depriving you of the only friend you seem to have in the world." "I must part with him," said the man. "I have not a farthing, and they will never let me take him within the door again." "Don't go within their door yourself," said Mrs. Grafton. "Why should you?" "Because I have no other roof to shelter me," replied the man. "Do you think you would work if you had a chance to do better for yourself, and keep your dog?" asked the lady. "Would I not, ma'am !" said he. "Ah! you don't know all !" "But I know a great deal," replied his benevolent friend d; "and I am determined to make the trial if you will but work, and keep away from bad company, and give up your wandering, idle habits. If I find you industrious and honest, I will give you wages that will enable you to live decently, and to keep your dog into the bargain." The man uncovered his head, and with clasped hands, poured forth such a torrent of eloquent but genuine gratitude, that Helen could not help wishing she had remembered at first, how much kinder it would have been to assist the poor man, without at the same time depriving him of his dog. MAGGIE MAYFLOWER. MAGGIE Mayflower loved a frolic Pains to cheat, and pains to puzzle, Not a guest, and not a neighbour, Seldom felt they safely seated Seldom knew they but some trifle Might awake her ready laugh, Broken chair, or crazy table, Spill the draught they meant to quaff. Sober talk, or solemn lecture, All alike on Maggie's ear Fell unheeded, or forgotten When some pleasant fun was near. Maggie lived where rock and river Lonely stood an ancient ruin Near her father's peaceful home; Scarce the shepherd-boys at evening Near that ruin liked to roam. Maggie cared not. Fear had seldom Blanched her cheek, or bent her knee. Stealing forth, she often rambled Where no lonely maid should be. Sometimes when an aged matron Tones of grief she well could mimick, Thus with plaintive suit she follow'd Maggie Mayflower had an uncle, Kind, but somewhat hard to please; Well she loved her Uncle David; But she better loved to tease. Once, it happen'd in the winter, While December's blast did blow, Maggie and her brothers plann'd it- Uncle David, dear old fellow! Was to come that day to tea. O'er a tract of dreary moorland Maggie had a hat and coat on, And the part she meant to play Was to mount behind her Uncle, Not as in her own fair person, But a robber fierce and furious, Muttering threats and menace wild. "Hark! he comes," the brothers whisper, "Now your time is-Maggie, fly! Sure enough a horseman gallop'd Swift as lightning o'er the ground. "Hold!" the brothers cried, and quickly Stopp'd the horseman at the sound. Maggie was a skilful rider— Well her Uncle's horse she knew. In a moment she was mounted, Round his waist her arms she drew. Bounding went the frighten'd pony, Once or twice she tried to murmur Faster still, and still more furious, Fast they flew, and darker-deeper Lost to Maggie's wondering sight. |