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But the old man, in his quavering tones and smiling yet more cheerfully, replied-" I am nearer to my Mary,"—and tottered on.

And the mountain-born clouds swept down upon the Mansionhouse, and the forest-foliage bent closer over it, and the large rain-drops dimmed the windows, and—I saw no more.

Our Mother.

BLEST be the name, for most of us have felt
Her tenderness from infancy to age!
And all have slumbered to the carol-strain,
She pour'd above us in the infant couch !
Each one, in semblance to the op'ning flower,
Expanded 'neath her kind, congenial smile,
And smil'd again in happy innocence.—
Thro' life experienc'd a mother's care,
Anxieties-caresses-joys, and fears,

(Alas! for those who have not!) we have leant
Upon her bosom on a winter night,
(When storms roar'd wildly past, and pelting rain
Dash'd round our dwelling) to drink in the tale,
She whisper'd with so sweet, so soft a sound.
And simple was her story, fancy wrought
No woven wreath of false imaginings!
That narrative had one transcendent charm-
"Twas this-" "Twas mother's !"-

If, in lapse of years,
The brightness of her eye doth seem to fade,
Still-still-we seek not vainly for the soul,
To mirror forth its gentle influence.

That voice that spoke so highly to our youth,
Doth whisperingly tell the tale again,
More beautiful and modified by time;
In fonder-more maternal accents cloth'd!
And when the ev'ning shadow of her life,
Draws o'er a peaceful, and serene old age;
In quiet dignity she views her flock,
(O tender shepherdess!) rise up around,
To bless her fondest hope!

ROCKS.

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A Pensioner's Reminiscences.

BY S*

"All the world's a stage

And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances,

And one man in his time plays many parts."

SOME years ago I was travelling from London to Worcester, and when within a stage of my destination, we drew up at a small road-side posting-house, for the purpose of changing horses. The fat, burley, jovial landlord put his good-tempered face, which beamed with his best-customer-smile into the carriage, and to my question, whether I could have the necessary cattle, answered, that "He was very sorry, but he had'nt a horse in the stables, a county election had drawn them all off, and it was very uncertain when I could be accommodated, but," he added with a sort of an oblique cast of his eyes, which seemed to say-I am very knowing—“ he had no doubt that, with something in the shape of an extra fee to back his persuasive powers, he should be enabled to induce the post-boys to take me on after the horses had had some rest." A moment's reflection convinced me that there was no other alternative; I, therefore, endeavoured to submit, with as good a grace as the little philosophy I could muster would enable me. I descended and entered the house; it was one of those odd old-fashioned, picturesque, comfort-filled public-houses in which Worcestershire abounds, lending a beauty and a charm to its home scenery. The landlord, with a bow (a piece of politeness not easily achieved by him), and an expression of face which plainly said “ I am not ashamed of this," ushered me into what was evidently, in his opinion, the best room of the house, that is to say, the one generally set apart for particular occasions and personages; but as I have always entertained a rooted horror and aversion towards these sepulchres for the living, I requested my host to show me to the common customers' chamber. He complied, apparently not a little mortified at the slight thus put upon the sanctum on which he prided himself.

R

It was a low-ceiling'd apartment, with an immense fire-place stretching across almost the whole of one side; the place of blazing logs was supplied by what appeared very like the head and shoulders of a juvenile oak; the opposite side was occupied by two large, deep latticed windows, which looked upon an orchard whose trees were so laden with luscious fruit, that one might have supposed this spot had been especially preserved from the curse pronounced on sin-blighted Eden.

In a rustic worm-eaten chair of a century, placed within the recess of one of these windows, intent upon the pages of a bible, which, from its appearance, might have been the legacy of his grandmother, sat an aged man, whose deportment and dress alike favoured the supposition that he had been a soldier. Something in his venerable appearance commanded respect; a shade of melancholy rested upon his time-honoured, travel-tinged, and intellectual countenance. He wore a closely-buttoned military coat, and on his breast was suspended a medal, which, from a wooden leg and his general aspect, I judged to be the reward of services rendered to his country on the battle-field.

Taking the opposite chair, after a few ordinary remarks on the weather and the season, I observed, "You have served ?" "Yes,"

he answered, "for many years, chiefly abroad; but I am much nearer to the grave than when I left my regiment a disabled man.” The landlord here entered, bearing refreshment, and assured me that the latest newspaper in the house was a week old. What was I to do- how was I to pass the next three hours in this rural prison? I looked out of the window into the orchard; I looked round the room at the quaint-fashioned well-preserved furniture, and at the two or three paintings of a favourite dog, horse, or cow, by some rustic artist, which hung against the walls. I looked at the veteran, and suddenly bethought me that, out of the many chequered scenes of a soldier's life, especially one who had been on foreign service, there would certainly be much to interest. Addressing him, I said, " You, doubtless, have been an eye-witness of and a participator in many stirring incidents." "I have," he replied, "and have both forgotten and remember much." deed, Sir," interrupted the landlord," he tells the finest tale I ever heard in my life, and though I have listened to it any time these twenty years, it makes me weep like a child, and is as fresh every time I hear it as the first day he told it in this room." The simple-hearted man really seemed running over with the milk of human kindness while he made this confession, and concluded by

"In

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