my Horn Book, might be as good a friend to her as to me. I copied the picture, therefore, carefully on another piece of paper, by holding it up to the window, and afterwards coloured it red. When the work was ended, I could scarcely wonder enough at the resemblance. Towards evening I went to the garden gate, and threw a handful of sand against Lina's window, to inform her of my presence. I already enjoyed, in imagination, her astonishment at my dexterity, and her joy at my kindness. When she appeared, as I told her of my intended departure, and that I had brought her a present of not a little value, she looked eagerly towards it; but when she saw the picture I was mortally disappointed: instead of the praise I expected, she shook her head, and turned up her nose, almost as if she despised me and my work. She scarcely looked at it; and wrapping it up again in paper, expressed plainly enough, that she would rather have had a substantial cake of gingerbread than all the painted cocks in the world. I was vexed at this contempt for my labours; measured the ungrateful from head to foot, and in a moment resolved I would tear myself from her, and never again have anything to do with her. "Your servant, Miss Lina," said I aloud, and proudly turning on my heel, stalked lordly and hastily home, without paying any attention to her calling after me.

My cousin's house, where I was now to dwell, was at the opposite end of the village, which would not, how

ever, have hindered me from keeping company with Lina, if I had not resolved to have nothing more to do with the earthly-minded thing, who had rather tickle her palate than her eyes, and had no taste for the fine and noble arts. She, however, sought, by all her little means, to get hold of me, when I went to drink coffee with my mother on Sundays and feast days. But I persisted in avoiding her, and in cherishing the ill-temper she had awakened by the unkind reception of the picture. The most which I did was to show myself at the window, and pretend not to observe her. At length, when she found she was only thrashing empty straw, she left off looking after me. Only wait, thought I; you shall yet repent of the scornful manner you treated me; only let me become a journeyman weaver.

The years of apprenticeship passed away, and the day at last arrived on which I was to be set free, and admitted into the journeyman's guild; allowed to smoke tobacco in every company, and to walk with my cane wherever I pleased. As I sat at breakfast with my mother, and talked over the necessary arrangements for the coming festivities, the father journeyman entered, took his place at my side in a friendly way, and helped me to despatch the coffee. Formerly he hardly deigned to look at me, now he began to talk freely and jovially, which pleased and exalted me prodigiously. I was quite in raptures, however, as my mother brought forth some spirits,

and he, clapping me on the shoulder, said, “What think you, brother Fred? shall we drink to our lasting friendship?" The words ran through me like fire. My mother seemed to utter a prayer for the continuance of our fellowship as we stood up, and entwining each an arm with the other, in this manner carried the glasses to our mouths, and emptied them.

Now was I able to snap my fingers at the whole world, and only found it necessary to muster up all my self-command, that my sense of acknowledged worth might not be blown up into folly. The reader will undoubtedly like to know how I was clothed on this, for me, important day. My coat was of dark blue, hanging down to my ankles, and lined with bright red my waistcoat was of plush, and on it might be seen, very naturally drawn, the whole planets running their course: my boots were of the best calf's skin, with yellow tops: by my especial desire, my mother had bound three handkerchiefs round my neck, so that the outward one reached my under lip a long tail, tied with new shining ribbon, hung down my back, and the fore part of my head was covered with curls, which, after being pressed down by the hat, rose again into pretty ringlets when it was removed. In truth, for eight days before my hair was pressed up in papers, and not taken down till the important moment in which I was to show myself. In my left hand I held a large bunch of flowers; in my right

a silver-headed cane, inherited from my grandfather; and from both my pockets hung the corners of two fine flower-worked pocket-handkerchiefs.

In this stately dress I began, about mid-day, to make the course of the village, and to invite, according to custom, the maidens to the dance which I was to give that evening at the sign of the Crow. I passed by Lina's door, however, several times, without allowing my inclinations to conquer the resolution I had laid down; and if Lina was not entirely blind, she must haye known by my conduct, that I had drank to our lasting friendship with the father of the journeymen, and had banished all recollection of our gingerbread-eating years from my heart.

In the evening, however, as all the beauties of the place swam past me in the waltzing circle, the true queen of the feast, precisely the contemned Lina, appeared to be wanting, as the only person worthy to stand at my side. In vain did I frisk and whirl with the stiff daughter of the cartwright, in order to banish the unpleasant thoughts: the image of Lina preserved its place, and darkened every other joy. Streams of perspiration and powder, from exercise and anxiety, flowed down my face, and spoiled my neckhandkerchiefs. Sighing and panting, my partner sank on the nearest stool, and gasped for breath. I could hold out no longer in the dust and vapour, but drank copiously of beer, stuffed my pipe, and went to the door to cool myself. A secret impulse, I

could not explain, led me farther and farther, and blowing away the smoke as I thumped along, I found myself, before I knew where I was, under Lina's window.

She sat solitary and quiet in the little room, dimly lighted by a lamp, and turning her wheel, drawing out her threads fine and firm, for she span as well as any girl of the village. The music, and the shouts of the joyous dancers, were plainly heard, but she sat and worked, busied alone with her own thoughts. Sorrowful and melancholy reflections appeared in her countenance, but she paid no attention to the distant music, and there was nothing about her which could lead me to suppose she was vexed at being excluded from the dance. She had already put on her nightcap, and I was obliged to confess to myself, that she was very pretty, and that not one of the gaily-dressed ladies at the dance could compare with her. I possessed, however, firmness enough not to betray my presence, or to give in any way expression to my feelings: yet I was much disposed to do it, and resolved, on my way back to the dance, to receive her again into favour. Nor was this resolution altered by the jokes of my companions at my melancholy appearance, but remained even till day-light, when, with a cloudy head, I returned home, to give myself up, after so much exertion of body and mind, to the sweet empire of sleep.

It was noon, and the dinner ready, before I returned to my senses on the following day, rejoiced to find that