sure enough; he found he had got into the hands of a crooked Christian; to pick his own way through the remaining part of the forest he saw to be clearly impossible; the old man's guidance he must have, on such terms as he could. On the other hand, the alternative of footing it amongst rocks, and roots, and mire, was a hard one, and scarcely preferable to his taking his chance of getting lost. He therefore softened his tone toward the old man-plead that walking would exhaust his strength and unfit him for preaching-that it would bespatter his garments, which were new and glossy, and bemire his boots, which had been polished for the occasion.

But all would not do; our old friend was inexorable. "Hout man," said he, "sure ye'll have as claan a fut as I will, or, for the mather of that, as claan a fut as there'll be at the maatin, for few are they that will ride theer. And faix theer 's no use in chaffering heer thegither, for if ye dount lind me yer baste, I dount go a peg furder wid ye."

The elder was fain to submit at length, which he did with the worst grace possible;

remarking at the same time, that as he could n't walk more than a mile at the utmost, he should expect his horse yielded back to him as soon as he required it.

"Will, I'm agraad to that," said our friend of the hill-side, "or to anythin' ilse that's raisonable. But ye must spaak out loud, do ye mind, for I'm dull of haarin' whin I git on the back of a baste the ixercise is new til me.'

The sequel proved our hero correct as to his dulness of hearing; for, after floundering among rocks and mire for a half a mile or so, the elder complained of being out of breath, and requested the old man to stopbut the latter gave no signs of hearing. The elder raised his voice higher, and higher still, until it reached a bawl-still our friend's deafness was as invincible as before. The elder quickened his pace to a half run, in the hope of getting nearer to his troublesome guide; but, from some unaccountable cause, the horse on which the latter was mounted increased his gait in the same ratio.

And thus things continued, until, at the end of three miles or so, they emerged from

the forest into the open country where the old man's services ceased to be necessary. He therefore came to a halt, dismounted, and waited for the coming up of the elder, who was blowing like a porpoise, his round countenance as red as the sun in smoke days, and his sacred person most sadly bespattered from head to heels.

"Look ye theer now," said our friend of the hill-side, in a serio-comic tone, "what a dacent color ye have afther yer walk. Sure I know'd a little natheral exercise wud improve yer health. But ye carry too much burthen of hardweer about ye, man, for ye have a spur on ivery fut of ye, which incumbered yer walkin', or ilse ye'd have performed yer part bether nor one of the king's fut guards. As for yer boots, the divil a testher of harm wull the mud do thim whin once they get use till it; for havn't I taken many such a walk? Faix have I, and my brogans dount know the differ betwixt bein' clane or dirthy. It's good for ye, man, to faal some of the throubles of life, for thin ye can spake til the paaple from yer own ixparience."

The poor elder, during this parting lecture, was inflated with indignation nearly to bursting; he had sense enough remaining, however, to perceive that its explosion upon the old man of the hill-side would be but so much breath thrown away, in addition to what he had already lost in the three-mile chase in which he had been engaged. He therefore stifled it as best he could, and proceeded on to meet his expectant congregation, possibly to edify them with a discourse on the Christian graces of meekness and humility.

It must not be inferred that the old man of the hill-side is an indifferentist in respect to religion; much less that he is unbelieving. He is neither, by any means. He is, indeed, a contemner of its mere ceremonial, and of extra, or ostentatious pretensions to sanctity on the part of its professors. He holds at a

cheap rate upturned eyes, and such pious ejaculations as seem-and all so seem when publicly indulged in-more meant for man's ear than for God's. The class of our hero's acquaintances whose piety oozes out in such forms, have a great dread of his waggery, which he exercises on them without stint when he chances to be in that vein, and that is not seldom.

A countryman of his whom he had long known very intimately, and who was much more given to public exhibitions of piety than to the practice of righteousness in his everyday intercourse, was accompanying our old friend at one time in an excursion to a distant market-town. They tarried over night at an inn, in a single room of which nearly a score of persons, including themselves, were put to lodge. These were mostly travellers bound to the same market-town, and on a similar errand with their own.

"Why, hout, Robin!" exclaimed the old man to his companion, whom, on his return from the stable, whither he had been attending to the comfort of his horses, he found kneeling at his bedside near the door