Pray make haste! I feel as if I should die: it makes The circumstance occasioned no alteration, however, me tremble so."

in the behaviour of his benefactors. After another fortnight, when the fine warm weather had fairly begun, and every tree and flower was putting forth its young leaves and rich blossoms, they made preparations fer

"Come, come!" said the good doctor, patting him on the shoulder. "You will see them directly, and they will be overjoyed to find you safe and well." "Oh! I hope so!" cried Oliver. "They were so good quitting the house at Chertsey for some months. Send

to me; so very, very good to me, sir."

The coach rolled on. It stopped. No; that was the wrong house. The next door. It went on a few paces, and stopped again. Oliver looked up at the windows with tears of happy expectation coursing down his face.

ing the plate which had so excited the Jew's cupidi ty to the banker's, and leaving Giles and anothe servant in care of the house, they departed for a cotage some distance in the country, and took Olive with them.

Who can describe the pleasure and delight, the peace

Alas! the white house was empty, and there was a of mind and soft tranquillity, which the sickly boy fr bill in the window-"To Let."

"Knock at the next door," cried Mr. Losberne; taking Oliver's arm in his. "What has become of Mr. Brownlow, who used to live in the adjoining house, do you know?"

in the balmy air, and among the green hills and rien woods of an inland village! Who can tell how scenes of peace and quietude sink into the minds of pain-war dwellers in close and noisy places, and carry their ove freshness deep into their jaded hearts? Men who have lived in crowded pent-up streets, through whole lives of toil, and never wished for change; men to wh custom has indeed been second nature, and who have come almost to love each brick and stone that formel the narrow boundaries of their daily walks-even the

The servant did not know; but would go and enquire. She presently returned, and said that Mr. Brownlow had sold off his goods, and gone to the West Indies six weeks before. Oliver clasped his hands, and sank feebly backwards. "Has his housekeeper gone too?" inquired Mr. Los- with the hand of death upon them, have been known t berne, after a moment's pause.

"Yes, sir;" replied the servant. "The old gentleman, the housekeeper, and a gentleman, a friend of Mr. Brownlow's, all went together."

"Then turn towards home again," said Mr. Losberne to the driver, "and don't stop to bait the horse till you get out of this confounded London!"

"The book-stall keeper, sir?" said Oliver. "I know the way there. See him, pray sir! Do see him!”

yearn at last for one short glimpse of Nature's face. and carried far from the scenes of their old pains a pleasures, have seemed to pass at once into a new stat of being, and crawling forth from day to day to se green sunny spot, have had such memories waketė. up within them by the mere sight of sky, and hill, and plain, and glistening water, that a foretaste of Heaves itself has soothed their quick decline, and they have sunk into their tombs as peacefully as the sun, whe setting they watched from their lonely chamber dow but a few hours before, faded from their dim feeble sight! The memories which peaceful scenes call up, are not of this world, or of its though or hopes. Their gentle influence may teach us weave fresh garlands for the graves of those we loved may purify our thoughts, and bear down before old enmity and hatred; but, beneath all this ther lingers in the least reflective mind a vague and halformed consciousness of having held such feelings long before in some remote and distant time, whic calls up solemn thoughts of distant times to come. and bends down pride and worldliness beneath it.

cour!

"My poor boy, this is disappointment enough for one day," said the doctor. "Quite enough for both of us. If we go to the book-stall keeper's we shall certainly find that he is dead, or has set his house on fire, or run away. No; home again straight!" And, in obedience to the doctor's first impulse, home they went. This bitter disappointment caused Oliver much sorrow and grief even in the midst of his happiness; for he had pleased himself many times during his illness with thinking of all that Mr. Brownlow and Mrs. Bedwin would say to him, and what delight it would be to tell them how many long days and nights he had passed in reflecting upon what they had done for him, and bewailing their cruel separation. The hope of It was a lovely spot to which they repaired, and Oeventually clearing himself with them, too, and ex-ver, whose days had been spent among squallid crowds. plaining how he had been forced away, had buoyed him up and sustained him under many of his recent trials; and now the idea that they should have gone so far, and carried with them the belief that he was an impostor and robber,‚—a belief which might remain uncontradicted to his dying day, was almost more than

he could bear.

and in the midst of noise and brawling, seemed L enter upon a new existence there. The rose and honey suckle clung to the cottage walls, the ivy crept rou the trunks of the trees, and the garden-flowers perfumed the air with delicious odours. Hard by, was a little churchyard: not crowded with tall, unsightly grave stones, but full of humble mounds covered with fresh

tarf and moss, beneath which the old people of the vil- | In the morning Oliver would be a-foot by six o'clock, lage lay at rest. Oliver often wandered here and think-roaming the fields and surveying the hedges far and ing of the wretched grave in which his mother lay, wide, for nosegays of wild flowers, with which he would sometimes sit him down and sob unseen; but, would return laden home, and which it took great care as he raised his eyes to the deep sky overhead, he and consideration to arrange to the best advantage for would cease to think of her as lying in the ground, and the embellishment of the breakfast table. There was weep for her sadly, but without pain. fresh groundsel, too, for Miss Maylie's birds, with which Oliver,-who had been studying the subject under the able tuition of the village clerk,-would decorate the cages in the most approved taste. When the birds were made all spruce and smart for the day,

execute in the village, or failing that, there was always something to do in the garden, or about the plants to which Oliver-who had studied this science also under the same master, who was a gardener by trade, applied himself with hearty good-will till Miss Rose made her appearance, when there were a thousand commendations to be bestowed upon all he had done, for which one of those light-hearted beautiful smiles was an ample recompense.

It was a happy time. The days were peaceful and serene, and the nights brought with them no fear or care, no languishing in a wretched prison, or associating with wretched men: nothing but pleasant and happy thoughts. Every morning he went to a white-there was usually some little commission of charity to headed old gentleman, who lived near the little church, who taught him to read better and to write, and spoke so kindly, and took such pains, that Oliver could never try enough to please him. Then he would walk with Mrs. Maylie and Rose, and hear them talk of books or perhaps sit near them in some shady place, and listen whilst the young lady read, which he could have done till it grew too dark to see the letters. Then he had his own lessons for the next day to prepare, and at this he would work hard in a little room which looked into the garden, till evening came slowly on, when the ladies would walk out again, and he with them: listening with such pleasure to all they said, and so happy if they wanted a flower that he could climb to reach, or had forgotten anything he could run to fetch, that he could never be quick enough about it. When it became quite dark, and they returned home the young lady would sit down to the piano, and play some melancholy air, or sing in a low and gentle voice some old song which it pleased her aunt to hear. There would be no candles at such times as these, and Oliver would sit by one of the windows, listening to the sweet music, while tears of tranquil joy stole down his face.

So three months glided away; three months which, in the life of the most blessed and favoured of mortals, would have been unmixed happiness; but which, in Oliver's troubled and clouded dawn, were fecility indeed. With the purest and most amiable generosity on one side, and the truest, and warmest, and most soulfelt gratitude on the other, it is no wonder that, by the end of that short time, Oliver Twist had become completely domesticated with the old lady and her niece, and that the fervent attachment of his young and sensitive heart was repaid by their pride in, and attachment to himself.

JACK AMONG THE MUMMIES. From Nights at Sea, in Bentley's Miscellany. (WITH AN ENGRAVING.)

To my thinking, she's a treasure-craft laden with

'Did you ever fall athwart any o' them there hanimals, Bob?' inquired Joe Nighthead.

'What hanimals do you mean, Joe?' returned Martingal. For my part, I've seen a little somut of everything.'

And, when Sunday came, how differently the day was spent from any manner in which he had ever spent it yet! and how happily, too, like all the other days in that most happy time! There was the little church in the morning, with the green leaves fluttering at the windows, the birds singing without, and the sweet-smell-mummies.' ing air stealing in at the low porch, and filling the homely building with its fragrance. The poor people were so neat and clean, and knelt so reverently in prayer, that it seemed a pleasure, not a tedious duty, their assembling there together; and, though the singing might be rude, it was real, and sounded more musical (to Oliver's ears at least) than any he had ever heard in church before. Then there were the walks as usual, and many calls at the clean houses of the labouring men; and at night Oliver read a chapter or two from the Bible, which he had been studying all the week, and in the performance of which duty he felt more proud and pleased than if he had been the clergyman himself.

'I means the mummies,' replied Joe, as he squatted down in amidships just before the foremast, in preparation for a yarn, and was soon surrounded by the rest; I means the mummies, my boyo.'

'No; can't say as I have,' answered Bob; "though I've heard somut about 'em, too:-what rig are they?' "Why, for the matter o' that,' said Joe, laughing, they're broom-stick-rig as soon as they makes a brushi of it; but I'm blow'd if I hadn't onest as pretty a spree

with a whole fleet of mummies as ever any man could mind that I had bid it an etarnal farewell. Howsomfall aboard of in this world, or t'other either.'

"What was it, Joe?' asked the boatswain's mate eagerly. Pay it out handsomely, messmate; but don't pitch us any of Bob's devil's consarns;-let's have it all truth and honesty.'

'I'd scorn to deceive you, Jack, or anybody else o' my shipmates wot's seamen,' responded Joe reproachfully. It's all as true as the skipper's a lord, and looks, alongside o' Johnny Cropoh there, like a man alongside of a- But, there, it arn't honourable to make delusions; and so, shipmates, here goes for a yarn. I was coxswain in the pinnace of the ould Ajax, the Honourable Captain Cochrane, at that 'ere time when Sir Richard Bickerton took command of the fleet, and a flotilla was employed in co-operating with the troops again' Alexandria. Well, shipmates, I was always fond of a bit of gab; and so, the night we lay at a grapplin', waiting for daylight to begin the attack, my officer gets to talking about the place, and what a grand consarn it was in former days for gould and jewels, and sich like; and thinks I to myself, mayhap the Lords of the Admiralty will take all that 'ere into account in regard o' the prize money: and then he overhauls a good deal about the hobbylisks and Clipsypaddy ree's Needle, and what not, that I'm blow'd if it didn't quite bamfoozle my larning. Well, we'd four or five days' hard work in the fighting way, and then there was a truce, and my officer run the pinnace aboard of a French prize laden with wine and brandy; so we starts the water out of one of the breakers and fills it with the real stuff, and I manhandled a pair of sodgers' canteens chock-full; and the prize master, Muster Handsail, an old shipmate of mine, gives me a two-gallon keg to my own cheek, and I stows 'em all snug and safe abaft in the box, and kivers 'em up with my jacket to keep 'em warm. Well, it was just getting dusk in the evening when the skipper claps us alongside, and orders the leftenant to land me well up the lake, so as I might carry a letter from him across to a shore party as manned one of the heavy batteries away inland, at the back of the

town.

'Now, in course, shipmates, I warn't by no manner o' means piping my eye to get a cruise on terror firmer, seeing as mayhap I might chance to pick up some 'o' the wee things aboot the decks' as likely wud get me a bottle o' rum in England,-for my thoughts kept running on the gould and jewels the leftenant spun the yarn about, and I'd taken a pretty good whack of brandy aboard the prize, though I warn't not in the least tosticated, but ounly a little helevated, just enough to make me walk steady and comfortable. So we run the boat's nose on to the beach, and I catches up my jacket and my canteens, leaving the keg to the marcy of Providence, and strongly dubersome in my

ever, I shins away with my two canteens filled chock ablock; and 'Bear a hand, Joe!' says the leftenant, though I'm blessed if I know what course you're to take, seeing as it's getting as dark as a black fellow's phisog.'-'Never fear, yer honour,' says I; ounly let me catch sight o' Clipsypaddy ree's Needle for a landmark, and I'm darned if I won't find myself some where, anyhow;' and away I starts, shipmates, hand over hand, happy go lucky-all's one to Joe! But it got darker and darker, and the wind came down in sudden gusts, like a marmaid a-sighing; so, to clear my eyes, and keep all square, I was in course compelled to take a nip every now and then out of the canteen, till at last it got so dark, and the breeze freshened into a stiff gale, that the more I took to lighten my way and enable me to steer a straight course, I'm blessed, shipmates, if I didn't grow more dizzy; and as for my headway, why, I believes I headed to every point in the compass:-it was the dark night and the cowld breeze as did it, messmates.'

'No doubt in the world on it, Joe,' assented Jack Sheavehole; for if anything could have kept you in good sailing trim, it was the brandy, and the more especially in token o' your drinking it neat;-them dark nights do play the very devil with a fellow's reckoning ashore, in regard of the course and distance, and makes him as apt to steer wild, like a hog in a squall.'

'You're right, Jack,' continued Nighthead; and any body as hears you, may know you speaks from experience o' the thing. Howsomever, there I was,-not a sparkler abroad in the heavens, not a beacon to log my bearings by; and, as I said afore, there I was in a sort of no-man's-land, backing and filling to drop clear of shoals, sometimes just at touch-and-ge, and then brought-up all standing, like a haystack a-privateering. At last the weather got into a down-right passion, with thunder, lightning, and hail; and 'I'm blessed, Joe,' says I to myself, 'if snug moorings under some kiver or other, if it's ounly a strip o' buntin', wouldn't be wastly superior to this here!' But there was no roadstead nor place of shelter, and the way got more rougherer and rougherer, in regard o' the wrecks of ould walls and ould buildings, till I'm blessed if I didn't think I was getting into the latitude and longitude of the dominions of the 'long-shore Davy Jones.'

My eyes, Joe!' exclaimed Martingal, replenishing his quid from an ample 'bacca' box, but you was hard up, my boy!'

'Indeed and I was, Bob,' responded the other; ‘and I'm blowed if every thing as I seed about me didn't begin to dance jigs and hornpipes to the whistling of the wind, that I thought all manner of bedevilment had come over me, and so I tries to dance too, to keep

om company. But it wouldn't do, shipmates, and I hardly civil on you to try and bamboxter me arter that capsizes in a sudden squall, and down I went, head- fashion. Why, didn't I see you myself just now when foremost.' you spliced the main brace?-dead men don't drink 'It's precious bad work that, Joe,' said the old boat-brandy.'-'We're privileged,' sings out a little cockswain's mate, shaking his head. A fellow in an open sea may do somut to claw to wind'ard; but when you're dead upon a lee-shore, it's time to look for your bag. But what did you do, Joe?"

-'D— the devil!' says I, as bould as a lion, for I warn't a-going to let the ould fellow think I was afeard of Davy Jones, though I was hard and fast ashore; and 'D—the devil,' says I, 'axing your majesty's pardon; the wagabone has got no call to me, seeing as I'm an honest man; and an honest man's son as defies him.' | pigtail about you-have you? seeing as I lost my chaw