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Horse Cellar, the publican was dunned for his fare, which he very naturally refused, insisting at the same time, that the debt was contracted by the galloping goblin, who must himself have booked and directed him to London. "All I can say is, then," exclaimed the waggoner, "that the ghost is no gentleman, to run in debt with a poor man, who has a wife and eleven children to support. However, if he won't pay, you must—”

After some further rhetoric, assisted by an occasional peg in the ribs with which the landlord endeavoured to impress his argument on the haunches of the waggoner as being more vulnerable than his pericranium, the money was paid, and, the lord of the Castle was "sent empty away," damning all refractory goblins, and weeping lustily for the defection of his silver.

As he strolled down the Strand meditating on his past adventure, he happened by the quick pressure of the passing crowd to be hurried into the auction rooms to the east of Temple Bar. On his first entrance he looked wistfully around, but by degrees his mind resumed its native elasticity, and he began to take considerable interest in the sale. Among other commodities, the purchase of some meadow land in the neighbourhood of Datchet was announced, which a random

exclamation from Boniface procured to be knocked down to him.

While he was endeavouring to expostulate, to declare his perfect innocence of the etiquette of an auction-room, and indeed to hustle off the bargain as well as he could; his attention was arrested by the appearance of an elegant stranger, who had but just entered the sale room, and was advancing with eagerness towards him. "Sir," said the gentleman, "I understand that you have bought the meadow on the banks of the Thames." I

"If

have, Sir: so at least they told me; but" you have no particular desire to retain the field, I should feel obliged by your allowing me to buy it. I have just purchased an estate in the neighbourhood of Datchet, which belonged to Lord L

"What," said the genealogist," Lord L who bears four quarterings on his arms, as thus, the first, a boar passant argent between three roses argent, the second"-"Why really, Sir," continued the stranger with a good-humoured smile, "I have taken no degree in the Heralds' College: but, however, to return to our subject, allow me to say a few words more respecting the purchase. I have a great desire to become the owner of this meadow which lies so convenient to my estate; and if you will accept five hundred pounds in exchange, it shall

I

be paid to you immediately." The manufacturer of punch, with all his eccentricities, was a shrewd fellow; he considered that as he came to London at the instigation of the devil, so there could be no harm in returning by the same conveyance. The bargain was accordingly struck, the sum deducted for the original purchase, and the landlord went whistling back to Datchet, impressed with unwonted respect for the galloping goblin, his coal-black charger, and his jack boots.

He has since enlarged his inn, increased his stock of pleasure-boats, and rendered himself, in more senses than one, the weightiest man in the village. Every evening he seats himself, as usual, by the door of his domicile; where the inquisitive traveller may descry him buried beneath a shapeless pyramid of clothes, with the broken stump of a tobacco-pipe in his mouth, and a goodly tankard by his side. The young girls still flock round him with their wonted eagerness, and insist upon his relating to each comer the story of the phantom horseman. To this he very good-humoredly concedes, preserving at the same time a most discreet taciturnity touching the purchase and subsequent exchange of the meadow. To all customers at the Castle, and they are by no means unfrequent, he renders himself a welcome com

panion, amusing them by his genealogical eccentricities, and enforcing each anecdote with his customary and convincing dig in the hams. His punch too is as good as ever, and the parish curate as he smacks his lips in lickerish anticipation of the nightly jorum, has been often heard to exclaim, (but always within hearing of the landlord,) that there is not so sober, so chaste, so exemplary, or so rising a character, as honest Patrick O'Doyle. He then finishes the first bumper to their better acquaintance.

ON FALLING IN LOVE.

Come, rest in this bosom my own stricken deer,

Tho' the herd have fled from thee thy home is still here; Here still is the smile that no cloud can o'ercast,

And the heart and the hand all thine own to the last.

Oh! what was love made for, if 'tis not the same Thro' joy, and thro' darkness, thro' terror and shame; I know not, I ask not, if guilt 's in that heart;

I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art.

Thou hast call'd me thine angel in moments of bliss,
Still thine angel I'll be thro' the terrors of this;
Thro' the furnace unshrinking thy steps to pursue,
And shield thee, or save thee, or perish there too.

MOORK.

THIS is the true language of love, of that passion which reduces the peer and the peasant, the Stoic and the Epicurean, to one common level. By love, I understand an undivided affection for one female, harmonizing with, yet apart from, the minor sensi

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