Ir was a golden morning in early summer, and a thousand birds were warbling on the landscape, while the balmy wind murmured low and musical among the leaves, when a young girl, attired in a rustic dress, might have been seen tripping over the lea. Her golden tresses, as she walked, floated on the wind, and the exercise had called even a richer carnation than usual to her cheek. Her form was one of rare beauty, and her gait was grace itself. As she glided on, more like a sylph than a mortal being, she carolled one of her country's simple lays; | and what with her liquid tones, her sweet countenance, and her bewitching motion, she formed a picture of loveliness such only as a poet could have imagined. At length she approached a ruined wall, half hidden by one or two overshadowing trees. The enclosure partially concealed from view the figure of a young shepherd, who, leaning on his hand, gazed admiringly on her approaching figure. Unconscious, however, of the vicinity of an observer, the maiden tripped on, until she had almost reached the enclosure, when the shepherd's dog suddenly sprung from his master's side, and barking violently, would have leaped on the intruder, had not the youth checked him. The maiden started and turned pale; but when she perceived the shepherd her cheeks flushed with crimson, and she stood before the youth in a beautiful embarrassment. "Down, down, Wallace, mon," said the young shepherd, "ken ye not Jeanie yet-the flower o' Ettrick? Ah! Jeanie, Jeanie," he added- and his tone and manner at once betrayed the footing on which he stood with the maiden- "little did ye ken, when ye were tripping sae gaily o'er the lea, with a heart as light as a lavrock and a song as sweet as the waving of the broom at noonday, that one who lo'es ye sae dearly, was lookin' at ye frae behind this tree." The maiden blushed again, and stealing a timid glance at her lover, her eyes sought the ground. The shepherd took her hand, which was not withdrawn from his grasp, and said, "Ye ken weel, Jeanie dear, what ye were singing," and his voice assumed a sudden seriousness as he spoke, which caused the maiden again to look up, although the allusion he made to the subject of her song, had dyed her cheeks with new blushes, "and I hae come hither this morning, for I ken ye passed here to see ye if only for a moment. Ye ken, Jeanie, that we were to hae been one next Michaelmas, and that I was to get the Ellsey farm — a canny croft it is, dearie, and happy, happy would we hae been there"-the maiden looked inquiringly in his face at these words, and her lover continued mournfully-"ye guess the worst, I see, by that look. In one word, a richer man has outbid me, and so, for the third time, hae I been disappointed." And as he said these words with a husky voice, betokening the depth of his emotion, the speaker paused, and drew the back of his hand across his eyes. His affianced bride showed the true delicacy of her mind in this juncture. Instead of saying aught to comfort him, she drew closer to his side, and laying her hand on his arm, gazed up into his face with a look so full of sympathy and love, that its mute, yet all-powerful eloquence, went to the shepherd's heart. He drew her tenderly to his bosom, kissed her unresisting brow, and gazed for some moments in silent rapture on her face. At length he spoke. "Jeanie," he said, and his voice grew low and tremulous as he spoke, "can ye hear bad news? I canna bide here longer," he added, after a pause, and with an obvious effort. The maiden started; but having introduced the subject, her lover proceeded firmly- "I canna bide here, year after year, as I hae done for the last twelvemonth, and be put off, month by month, wi' promises that are never to be fulfilled. I will go away and seek my fortune in other lands. They say money is to be had amaist for |