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"No, indeed, William," replied his wife, "you his modest girl, was a model, without variation, of never did; as for what you heard and suspected all he wore during the thirty-five years they lived about my marriage with that-____99 together. No remonstrance could induce him to change it.

"Oh, no, no," he returned; "not that—not that, but there was nothing to prevent me from getting my bread by my clarionet, for I'm blind; but when I think that I have brought you to beg for life, and when I know that you would-yes-yes, be a happy woman in your own house, and now all I have for you is beggary—beggary!"

"Don't ask me," he would reply, when about to purchase a new one. "There is only one dress I like. I know who bought it for me, many a year ago, and I know why I like it now. That dress was my first, and, except the coffin, it will be my last."

"William," she replied," "that's your heart- It was, indeed, very simple, and very well known the goodness of your heart, I know it but listen to our readers; a blue coat, red waistcoat, corduto me. If you had gone upon the world and left me roy small clothes, and blue stockings, to which if behind you, I don't think that your own Jane would we add a Scotch bonnet, the apparel of our hero is ever more have known a happy day. No, William, complete. We said just now, that he passed I took my choice, and that choice was to stay by your side through good and evil, and through all the trials of this life to guide you, and love you, and assist you in whatever your poor girl could do for you; and, William," said she, placing her cheek against his, speaking too in tones that banished all sorrow from his heart, "I am happier a thousand times, to beg by your side, than I could ever be in any state of life, where you would not be with me."

through every town of note in Ireland, we might also add Scotland, and the north of England. Hand in hand have they been seen to go together, but in no instance, as we have said, were they ever known to solicit remuneration for their rude and simple melody. If it came spontaneously it was accepted with gratitude. So striking indeed and so uniform was their appearance, that artists have painted them, and more than once have we ourselves seen their characters assumed at a fancy ball, where their meekness, dress, manner, and the husband's style of playing, were successfully imitated.

The soul of the blind boy was once more filled with light, a sense of full and unalloyed happiness came upon him and his young wife. They arose, and without a wish, without a fear, proceeded, The long lapse of their married life resembled with hearts which thousands might envy, to beg an unbroken strain of their own music, or like the their bread through that world, which is ever harsh small mountain burn which, in its early progress, and cruel to the unfortunate. The boy's mind was, is opposed by rocks, and rifts, and projections, unhowever, still busy; again he tuned his clarionet, til it reaches the meadows and plains, when it and his heart burned with irrepressible love to his glides onwards with a smooth but lonely murmur, faithful bride. As they proceeded, he again put ever making melody as it goes along. To them, the instrument to his lips, and far over the silent life, indeed, gave all they expected from it; their fields about them, was heard that sweetest and wants were few and easily gratified, their habits most sorrowful of all melodies, the Irish air of simple, and their hearts contented. One thing, it "Shuil agra," or " Travel with me, my love;" the exquisite tones of which were also heard in the village, until they died away in the distance. This was the last which the inhabitants of the village heard of the orphans during a lapse of years.

CHAPTER VIII.

is true, surprised Jane not a little, as we have no doubt it will our readers. Her husband expressed no wish to revisit the scenes of his early life; on the contrary, when urged to it by his wife, he mildly declined, assuring her that he had a disrelish against it which he hoped a few years would enable him to overcome. Nor were the inhabitants of the hamlet less amazed at their neglecting Never within the whole circle of literature were to reappear among them. Some attributed this to hero and heroine so humble as ours; yet such as shame, and others to a recollection of the hard they are, have we conducted them to that state of usage they had received while young; but none of life where little is left for description. Our rea- them were capable of tracing their absence to its ders now begin, we imagine, to recognise them. proper motive. Philip could not at all compreHumbly and unassumingly did they pass through hend it, for as he and the orphan parted not only every town of note in the kingdom-he ever with affection, but as the reader knows, with tears, touched with melancholy, playing as best he might so he could not imagine that any cause but death upon his clarionet, and she, the patient partner of alone could or would have detained him away so his sorrows, always at his side. Alms they never long. This poor man and his family were very asked, for such had been the resolution come to by both on the first day after their entering upon the

world.

The dress in which William had been joined to

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liable to impressions which, in minds composed of equal good and evil, may not be improperly termed the superstition of humanity. Humble as his circumstances were during the orphan's miserable so

fort to escape from misery, until they found themselves upon the point of actual beggary.

journ with him, yet after the boy's departure they | Philip's family, considering themselves as devoted, became gradually worse, until it would be indeed lay like drift upon a river, without struggle or efdifficult to find a more pitiable instance of nakedness, famine, and general destitution than they presented. Persons, however, in their condition, One day Philip sat among them, sad and gloomy: and with minds so constituted, are always disposed hunger had pinched himself, his wife, and chil to impute their distress to any other cause than dren, even to the verge of starvation. The landthe right one. In this case they looked upon the lord had that morning seized upon his pig and such woeful decline of their circumstances as a judicial miserable furniture as his cottage contained. What punishment, inflicted upon them in consequence of was he to do for them except to beg or steal! or their conduct towards the poor orphan. This opinion having gained ground, of course relaxed their exertions, and caused them to believe that no industry on their part could evade the fate which had fallen upon them. Philip's wife was a living memento of his offences against the fatherless, and a daily record of the blow he had inflicted on the blind. To this she ascribed all they had suffered since his departure, for as she told him

"Didn't I say at the time, they never came to good that raised a hand or struck a blow against them that God prevented from being able to defend themselves?"

"I know it's true," replied Philip; "and I'd give the world it had never happened-and that we had treated him with more kindness: but we're suffering for it.”

"Well," said the wife, "it's better to suffer in this world than the next."

"That's true," observed her husband,-"though, God knows, I've repented for the blow and every thing else this many a day. Even when he was leaving us, I felt cut to the heart on thinking of it. If we could only see him and get his forgiveness we might do better in the world. If I knew where he was, I wouldn't scruple to go to him; it might be the means of taking the curse off us."

"It's hard to say where he is now," said the wife. "It's my opinion he's dead-and if he is, God help us."

"I'm afraid he is, too," said the husband; "nothing else would detain him from the place. I know how he loved the fields, and glens, and little green spots he used to be wandering about. I doubt you're right; nothing but death would keep him away so long."

how procure them a morsel of food? After a long silence he at length rose up in a dark determined mood, and exclaimed

"Have patience, all of you-have patience, you will have enough and more than enough to eat before midnight. Come what may I can't nor I won't see you starve before my face-have pa tience."

The wife, feeble and staggering for want of food, approached him, and laying her hand upon his own, exclaimed

"Philip-Philip, you won't let us die, but let us not bring shame upon ourselves. Die! no, Philip, let us beg; better people have been brought to it-or if you don't like it, I and they can go out. The charity of the neighbors will surely keep life in us."

Philip flung her off. "Let me alone," said he"let me alone. I'll have no begging for this day at least; I won't-I can't see them die."

The wife staggered back, but caught a prop which supported the roof of the hovel. She knew her husband's temper, however, and was silent. After a little time she arose, and turning up the skirt of her gown as a cloak over her head and shoulders, told Philip she was about to go out.

Philip, whom distress had driven to extremity, instantly closed and barred the door. "No," said he, "there must be none of thatI'll have no going out, no beggary."

The poor woman sat down, and the outery of her children caused her to weep, as well with them, as for them.

In this manner they passed the day until desk. Philip still stern and resolute in the gloomy deter mination he had made. Often did the poor wie attempt to remonstrate, but as often was she cut short and silenced by a fierce oath and a furious stamp of his foot upon the floor.

Such was the superstition-beautiful, it is true, taken as a simple impression-under which these poor people suffered their minds to sink, and their energies to slumber. Had their circumstances in life improved, it would not have been felt, nor very possibly remembered at all; but in proportion as their misery increased, that weakness of mind which is ever the recipient of such opinions, disposed them to attribute their penury to a cause which, whilst it satisfied themselves to know it, air of "Bonnie Jean." palliated their own want of industry.

The foregoing conversation took place better than six years after our orphans' departure from the hamlet, and it is scarcely necessary to say that

Dusk had now passed, and darkness set in Philip in silence, at which they all trembled. seized his hat, and was in the act of proceeding out, when the tones of a clarionet were heard in the distance, and the next moment he and his wife recognised the long-remembered and well-known

The man paused, and his wife, uttering a faint scream, said

"Heaven preserve us. Philip, do you hes: that? oh, come back-come back and change your

mind; for if ever a warning came to mortal, that for want of food, yet were aware of his position comes to you!" with the landlord, and knowing that a disclosure of "It's very odd," said her husband; " for except their difficulties must necessarily take place, they it happens to be Willy himself, I don't know how did not wish to embarrass either party by remainto account for it; living or dead it's he that's play-ing to hear the unhappy pauper acknowledge the ing the tune we hear." extremity to which he had been reduced. They "Living!" exclaimed the wife, whose supersti- accordingly one by one took a short leave of the tion outran common probability-"living-good- orphans, expressing a hope that they would remain ness me," she added, eagerly catching at the hope, for some time among them.

"and why not living?

It is himself-himself and

When they were gone, a silence, oppressive and no one else—and it's now getting nearer. My painful to both parties, took place; which, howstars! what could put any thing else into my fool-ever, was broken by the orphan. ish head! God be praised, I'm glad he's come; for now after getting his forgiveness we may do better in the world."

The music of the clarionet had already ceased; for in fact the other inhabitants of the neighborhood having also heard and recognized the tune, ran out to meet their old acquaintance.

"It has stopped, said the wife, relapsing into her former apprehension. "God knows what it may be yet whatever it is, I am sure, Philip, it's a warning to you."

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Philip," said he, "you must get Jane and me something to eat, we are both tired and hungry, for we travelled far to-day, striving to reach this before dark, we are hungry."

This was pulling the cord which at that moment cut into the hearts of this unhappy family tighter, at the words food and hunger;-a wild and wolfish howl arose among the famishing brood that surrounded them, which all Philip's authority could scarcely hush into silence.

"Hold your tongues," said he, "remember what I told you awhile ago-it must be had, let whatever may happen. Willy," he added, approaching him, and seizing his hand, "Willy

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"How is this?" said the orphan, "you are disturbed; Philip, your hand trembles, and your voice is not what it used to be. Good heavens!" he exclaimed, "you have been sick, for your hand is gone to skin and bone."

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The noise of approaching feet, and the cheerful tamult of many voices, among which those of our heroine were distinguished, now satisfied them that the music was not supernatural. In a few moments the two orphans, accompanied by many of the neighbors, entered the naked hovel, and were received by the whole family with an affectionate exultation of manner for which neither they nor the others who were present could at all account. Willy," said the repentant and unhappy man, The house was literally dark when they entered, "the world has gone hard with us ever since the nor was there even a seat within its walls; their unlucky day I struck you that cruel blow-God, I fire consisted of a miserable spark that feebly would fain hope, sent you to us that I might get clung to the end of a wet peat upon the hearth; a your blessing and your pardon-after that, and esrushlight and two seats were considerately brought pecially since you left the place, we haven't had a in by a neighbor, and after the orphans had sat day's good fortune-neither I nor mine—will you down, it would indeed be difficult to witness a more forgive me that blow, and all our other harshness appalling spectacle of misery, squalid penury, and and we may yet be well; I am on my knees bewasting famine, than this unhappy family pre- fore you, and if you would forgive us and pity us sented-some stood, and others from physical weak-all

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ness lay upon the damp floor of their cold and Philip held his hand, and William felt the hot desolate hovel, their ghastly faces looking, in the tears falling fast upon it; nor was this all-the dim light of a dipped rush, rather like spectres cry of the wife and the wail of the children was from the dead, than persons belonging to a world heart-rending.

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"for

whose inhabitants are composed of flesh and blood. 'Oh, forgive him," said the poor woman, There is often much delicacy among the lower give him, William, for many a time it has cut his classes-more, indeed, than those who never asso-heart since. You don't know how we've been ciate them with any other idea than that of igno- punished for it-night and day the world has gone rance ever give them credit for. Nay, there is against us." frequently much delicate feeling among those who Oh, forgive my father," said the children, actually are both rude and ignorant. But, in spite flocking about him, "forgive him, or we'll die for of all that philosophers may say to the contrary, want of a morsel to eat-forgive him, and take the we assert that feeling is knowledge, and often curse off us, and, if you can, bless us too." shapes our conduct much more effectually in many 'Willy," said the miserable man," we're brought circumstances than knowledge itself, in those who to the last gasp-the landlord has seized and tahave hearts that cannot feel. The neighbors, ken away our little things; and since yesterday though ignorant of the straits to which Philip's morning neither I nor one of my family have tasted family had on that day and the foregoing been put food. But I deserve it all," he added-" didn't I

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strike the fatherless and the blind? I turned you time to speak. In the meantime, his fall and apout too, and now we may go upon the world our-parent illness occasioned such a wild cry from his selves, and must, for there's neither bed nor bed-wife and children, as struck William with terror ding, bit nor sup, under this miserable roof."

Jane's tears fell fast during this disclosure of circumstances so calamitous, and which, to her who saw the scene about her in all its horror, was absolutely frightful.

equal to, if not greater than theirs. Jane's coolness and good sense, however, soon made all plain and intelligible. A draught of water, brought by one of his daughters, relieved him; the guineas were gathered up, for the paper had fallen to the

"William, dear," she said, "for God's sake, put ground, and to their utter delight they found that them out of pain at once."

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it contained, as we have said, thirty guineas, which William declared to be their own.

Philip," said her husband, "I thought you and your wife knew me better than to suppose that I "Weren't we right,” said the wife, “weren't wouldn't forgive you-but no matter now. In the we right, Philip—that didn't come till after he had presence of God I here forgive you and yours, and forgiven and blessed us. Now we may have heart I beg that the blessing of the Almighty may come to work, and will have heart to work." down and remain with you all." Philip could not shed a tear; on the contrary, he A murmur of satisfaction amounting to some-trembled like an aspen leaf, and appeared rather thing that might be termed a kind of melancholy like a man detected in crime, than one who had ecstasy ran through the whole family after he had received so seasonable and providential a favor. spoken. Nay, he was incapable of reckoning the money

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"Come nearer me, Philip," said the orphan. now, which he had only reckoned a moment be"Come nearer me. fore, and occasionally stared vacantly about him, as if he could scarcely comprehend what had just taken place.

He then, as was his wont, passed his hand over his gaunt features, after which he felt those of the wife and of their children.

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"Philip, dear," said the wife, "be calm, you don't know what you're doing or saying either."

Willy," ," said he, addressing his own wife, “Come," said he, "don't despair; what if you" Willy, you don't knowdo starve Philip, be a man-if you were harsh to the orphan, you fed and kept the orphan. Harsh! weren't you harsh to your own children? You think of your harshness, but you forget that you took the fatherless child into your struggling family when no one else would. Give me that, Jane; you know what I mean."

The wife placed a rag, rolled up and tied with a thread, in his hands.

"Willy," he continued eagerly, still addressing her, "you don't know-you don't know what you have saved me from-you don't—you don't— from shame-from shame-from a disgraceful death."

William and his wife now both besought him to be calm again, they gave him a draught of water, "Did you think," he proceeded, "that I didn't and by soothing and mild persuasion succeeded in forgive you or did you think I remembered your restoring him to a rational perception of what had failings, and forgot your goodness? I never for- occurred. William also, who was himself now got you. Take that and get food-but your faces-calmer, insisted that he should exercise a manly your faces-I'm in spirits, Philip-I'm in spirits degree of firmness, and reminded him that the and, oh God! you were brought to this! Jane, pressing wants of his family must be forthwith

Jane their faces--"

He covered his sightless eyes with his two hands, and wept longer and louder than even Jane herself, who knew that he seldom shed tears at all, had ever remembered him to do before.

supplied. The wife, as being the cooler of the two, undertook this, and in less than an hour an abundant meal was prepared in the public house, where they all adjourned to partake of it.

Never, perhaps, was a more vivid degree of Philip, on receiving the unseemly parcel, went happiness produced in any family than in Philip's, close to the rush-light, and on opening it, found a nor by means more affecting, and at the same small paper, within which, on further inspection, time more providential. To redeem his furniture was contained gold to the amount of thirty guineas, out of the landlord's hands, and disembarrass himbeing nearly the whole amount of our hero's saving self of his small incumbrances, was Philip's first during the preceding seven years. act on the succeeding day. In addition to his A gleam of wild light flashed from his hollow house and garden, he took a few acres of land, bought a cow, and ere many weeks passed, found 'Betty," he shouted, "it is gold-it is go- -" himself in circumstances of comfort and indepen He staggered towards her as he spoke; but ere dence such as he had never known before. he reached the window at which she stood, he The observations of the neighbors now took 3 fell, but did not become utterly insensible; his different turn from those in which they had inface got even paler than before, and his lips so dulged so long, as they considered Philip's poverty dry and parched, that he was unable for a short and sufferings a judgment.

eyes.

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Well, well," they exclaimed, "it was good, | example of attachment, a melancholy history of after all, to give food and shelter to the orphan; love that defies time, and will not decay. Free see how it has come back to him at last. To be from the audacious importunity of common mendisure he suffered for his severity to him, but now cancy, they were the passive recipients of benevohe's rewarded for keeping him." lence, which, if it came to them at all, came without solicitation.

During six weeks did our orphans remain in their native place; a period sufficiently long to Still did they fill their little space in the world, enable them to revisit every acquaintance they and enjoyed a certain degree of obscure celebrity. had, and to linger hand in hand about scenes which Almost every one knew them by sight, though but moved their affections by many a sweet and many few were acquainted with their history. Go into a painful recollection. Every day Jane saw those what company you may, in whatsoever part of the who had protected her, and was able to make kingdom you please, and upon inquiring, you would them such simple presents as satisfied them of her find that our humble orphans were not only well gratitude. Their circumstances, indeed, had much known, but that they left an impression of enduring improved in her absence, and she found their pros- constancy and respect upon every one who saw perity advancing. A heart so affectionate could them. So pure, indeed, was this virtue in both, not be insensible of this, for it is only due to her that it was legible in their persons and counteto say, that the apprehension of finding them in nances even to the simplest observer: in other distress had filled her with deep concern. Even words, their modest and amiable appearance told for Lacey's family they had small presents; and the history of their hearts.

upon going to wait upon the worthy doctor, they But now must we approach the last scene of found that the history of their generosity to Philip this simple and uneventful history; the fiat of God had preceded them. Indeed, it made no little noise had passed; and the orphan girl, for so cannot we in the village, and in a few days had extended to forbear calling her, must be left alone. the remotest corner of their native parish. How mysterious are the ways of Providence when imperfectly known, and how beautiful when rightly understood! Who could have ever imagined that the gratitude of a being so utterly helpless as our blind boy, would have returned to his cold benefactor at a crisis so distressing, and with a fulness of bounty that rendered him independent, and more than repaid him for kindness so grudgingly bestowed? But so it was; and often do the contingences of life present us with instances quite as striking and remarkable.

At length the finances of our orphans being nearly expended, they deemed it full time to return once more to their usual mode of life. Having, therefore, visited, for the last time, every spot that was dear to them, not excepting the churchyard where their parents lay, they bade farewell to their friends and the village, which saw them no more for a time.

CHAPTER IX.

Time passed, under whose silent progress youth, manhood, and old age lapse into each other, without ever being able to distinguish the visionary line which separates them. Years grew upon our or

One morning, after they had been thirty-five years together without the intervention of a single day's separation, William took up his clarionet and went out with Jane, to play, she supposed, for their daily food. She observed that he was more silent than usual, but in a little while she perceived that he labored under either depression of spirits or positive illness.

"Willy, dear,” said she, “I'm afraid you're not well this morning."

"I feel no sickness," he replied, "but I long to go home"-for so they termed their native hamlet. "You remember, Jane," he proceeded, "how the children, when we were young, used to return home tired with their day's play, and glad to get leave to lie down and sleep."

"Sure every one knows, dear, that that's the case with all children."

"It is," said he, "and with more than children. Jane, it's my case now, and it will be yours. I'm afraid the day will come, and that before long, when you will feel as desirous to lay down your head and sleep beside me, as ever a tired child did on its mother's breast."

"Dear, I am still afraid," said his wife, "that you're unwell."

"I'm not sick, he repeated, "but my heart, Jane, phans, and brought with them infirmity and decay. is heavy, and I feel that either it or something The constant exposure to all the vicissitudes of else is drawing my feet towards the spot where a variable climate added considerably to the natu- I'd like to lie down and sleep at last. We will go ral effects of age. They grew feeble, they grew to it. I cannot stay away."

old, and in proportion as they wore down, so did "We will," said Jane; "but, William, dear, tell their power of pleasing become gradually less. me if any thing troubles you.”

Still, however, they proceeded side by side, even "I am disturbed, Jane," he replied; "I am disas they had always been, meek and melancholy, turbed-not sorrowful on my own account, but I patient alike under sunshine and storm; a touching am on yours. Don't inquire now-not now-I will

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