in his pocket, and was something more than two hundred and fifty miles from London. Lifting up his eyes, he beheld a horseman coming towards him, whom he discovered to be no other than Mr. John Browdie, carrying a thick ash stick. "I am in no mood for more noise and riot, and yet, do what I will, I shall have an altercation with this honest blockhead, and perhaps a blow or two from yonder cudgel." There appeared reason to expect it, for John Browdie no sooner saw Nicholas, than he reined in his horse, and waited until such time as he should come up. 66 Servant, young genelman." "Yours." "Weel; we ha' met at last." "Yes.-Come! We parted on no very good terms the last time we met; it was my fault; but I had no intention of offending you, and no idea that I was doing so. I was very sorry for it afterwards. Will you shake hands?" "Shake honds! Ah! that I weel! But wa'at be the matter wi' thy feace, mun? It be all brokken loike." "It is a cut,-a blow; but I returned it to the giver, and with good interest." 66 'Noa, did'ee though? Well deane! I loike 'un for thot." "The fact is, I have been ill-treated." "Noa! Dean't say thot." "Yes, I have, by that man Squeers, and I have beaten him soundly, and am leaving this place in consequence." "What!" cried John Browdie, with such an ecstatic shout that the horse shied at it. "Beatten the schoolmeasther! Ho! ho! ho! Beatten the schoolmeasther! Who ever heard o' the loike o' that noo! Giv' us thee hond agean, yoongster. Beatten the schoolmeasther! Dang it, I loove thee for 't." When his mirth had subsided, he inquired what Nicholas meant to do. On his replying, to go straight to London, he shook his head, and inquired if he knew how much the coaches charged to carry passengers so far? "No, I do not; but it is of no great consequence to me, for I intend walking.” 'Gang awa' to Lunnun afoot! (Stan' still, tell'ee, old horse,) Hoo much cash hast thee gotten?" "Not much, but I can make it enough. Where there's a will, there's a way, you know." John Browdie pulled out an old purse, and insisted that Nicholas should borrow from him whatever he required. "Dean't be afeard, mun, tak' eneaf to carry thee whoam. Thee'lt pay me yan day, a' warrant." Nicholas would by no means be prevailed upon to borrow more than a sovereign, with which loan Mr. Browdie was fain to content himself, after many entreaties that he would accept of more. He observed, with a touch of Yorkshire caution, that if Nicholas didn't spend it all, he could put the surplus by, till he had an opportunity of remitting it carriage free. "Tak' that bit 'o timber to help thee on wi', mun; keep a good heart, and bless thee. Beatten the schoolmeasther! 'Cod, it's the best thing 'a 've heard this twonty year!" John set spurs to his horse, and went off at a smart canter. Nicholas watched the horse and rider until they disappeared over the brow of a distant hill, and then set forward on his journey. He did not travel far, that afternoon, for by this time it was nearly dark; so he lay, that night, at a cottage, where beds were let cheap; and, rising betimes next morning, made his way before night to Boroughbridge. There he stumbled on an empty barn; and in a warm corner stretched his weary limbs and fell asleep. When he awoke next morning, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and stared at some motionless object in front of him. "Strange! It cannot be real; and yet I--I am awake! Smike!" "To go with you-anywhere-everywhere-to the world's end-to the churchyard. Let me go with you; Oh! do let me. You are my home, my kind friend; take me with you, pray!” He had followed Nicholas, it seemed; had never lost sight of him all the way; had watched while he slept, and when he halted for refreshment; and had feared to appear sooner, lest he should be sent back. "Poor fellow! Your hard fate denies you any friend but one, and he is nearly as poor and helpless as yourself." "May I may I go with you? I will be your faithful, hard-working servant. I want no clothes; these will do very well. I only want to be near you." you 66 And shall. And the world shall deal by you as it does by me, till one or both of us shall quit it for a better. Come!" So he strapped his burden on his shoulders, and, taking his stick in one hand, extended the other to his delighted charge. And so they passed out of the old barn together. BILLY GRIMES, THE DROVER. "To-morrow, ma, I'm sweet sixteen, "You must not go, my gentle dear, I wonder where your pride has gone, "Old Grimes is dead, you know, mamma, Besides, they say, to Grimes' estate, That Billy is the only Surviving heir to all that's left; And no doubt loves you dearly; JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER.-N. P. WILLIS. Aud Jephthah vowed a vow unto the Lord, and said, If thou shalt without fail deliver the children of Ammon into mine hands, Then it shall be, that whatsoever cometh forth of the doors of my house to meet me, when I return in peace from the children of Ammon, shall surely be the Lord's, and I will offer it up for a burnt-offering.-Judges xi: 30, 31. She stood before her father's gorgeous tent, Its surface was so polished. She was stilling Onward came The leaden tramp of thousands. Clarion notes They came, as earthly conquerors always come, Their weight hath crushed the fallen. Man is there- And elevated brow, and godlike frame; Lifting his crest in triumph-for his heel The mighty Jephthah led his warriors on Through Mizpeh's streets. His helm was proudly set, And his stern lip curled slightly, as if praise Might quell the lion. He led on; but thoughts Seemed gathering round which troubled him. The veins Grew visible upon his swarthy brow, And his proud lip was pressed as if with pain. He trod less firmly; and his restless eye Glanced forward frequently, as if some ill He dared not meet, were there. His home was near, And men were thronging, with that strange delight And he had reached his home; when lo! there sprang She knew that he was stricken then, and rushed Of tears she could not stay, she sobbed a prayer Shot o'er her countenance; and then the soul |