ever since, and got into debt besides. And now the-the-what is its?-Vortexers have ATTACHED his property! Damn 'em, I say.'

Here a veritable little shudder ran through the group of beauty assembled, which Mr. Bull immediately perceived, for it was audible: bosoms swelled more perceptibly, bright eyes looked askance from one to the other, and then at the jolly form of this worthy and notable representative of the Old Countree's greatness. Pausing for a second or two, and turning to the glorious creatures who surrounded him, he continued, boiling with wrath and indignation:

And 'tisn't as though Harry's the only one; there's Ned, and then there's Tom, both at it, and both a-losing money like fun-o; and I shall have to pay the piper! And who gets it, I should like to know? Why-them-damn-Vortexers!' he roared, a fit of tremendous perspiring fury preventing further utterance.

Again gentle bosoms heaved a deprecating little sigh. One fair and lovely creature extended the prettiest of little forefingers, while she laughed out the words, 'Gently, John, gently,' and then seemed so tickled at what she had said that she ended by a little laugh outright, and this became very infectious. Selina now appeared with wine and fruit, which Mr. Bull helped to hand round. When he came to me, he said:

'Don't take any I s'pose, do you, Mr. Spectre? Wish you did, 'twould help you along rather.' And then the redoubtable John himself appealed to me-what had he been saying? was there any harm in it, &c.?

I quietly replied, 'Good, I think. I have a grim, Spectral liking to the use of what some people are in the habit of calling "bad langwidge," and as nothing on earth half comes up to it, it is a pity it should be dropped. The Undone Vortex Saints may not indulge in it, fearful lest it should be too much akin to their practices. If an occasional use of it would clear the atmosphere of them, I should like to hear of its extensive though temporary adoption. Extreme indulgence should be avoided, lest it might lose in quality. Its entire loss to the Old Countree would be irreparable, especially as applicable to the Undone Vortex and to its Saints.'

It was now plain Mr. Bull liked me, and I need scarcely add I liked Mr. Bull. I watched my opportunity. I begged the lovely women about me to settle the matter among themselves, seeing clearly how it would all end, and desiring nothing so much-provided I obtained their hearty coöperation-as his patronage.

I began to repeat from memory some lines which struck me as applying to the case, should things turn out as I desired. They are as follows, and are from the pen of a famous old Spectre, who was once styled the great North Kintrie Bardie.'

'I own 'twas rash and rather hardy,

That I, a simple kintra bardie,
Should meddle wi' a pack sae sturdy,

Wha, if they ken me,

Can easy, wi' a single wordie,

Lowse hell upon me.

'But I gae mad at their grimaces;

Their sighin', cantin', grace-proud faces;
Their three-mile pravers an' hauf-mile graces;
Their raxan conscience,

Whase greed, revenge, an' pride disgraces
Waur nor their nonsense.

An atheist clean

Than under Gospel colours hid be,
Just for a screen.

'An honest man may like a glass,
An honest man may like a lass;
But mean revenge an' malice fause
He'll still disdain,
And then cry zeal for Gospel laws,
Like some we ken.

'They take religion in their mouth;
They talk o' mercy, grace, an' truth.
For what? To gie their malice shouth
On some puir wight,
An' hunt him down, o'er right an' ruth,
To ruin straight.

'All hail, Religion! maid divine!
Pardon a muse sae mean as mine,
Who in her rough, imperfect line

Thus daurs to name thee.

To stigmatise false friends of thine

Can ne'er defame thee.

'Though blocht an' foul wi' mony a stain,
An' far unworthy of thy train,

'Pardon this freedom I have ta'en;
An' if impertinent I've been,
Impute it not, good sir, in ane

Whase heart ne'er wranged ye,
But to his utmost would befriend

Ought that belanged ye.

I shall be proud

'O Mr. Spectre, Mr. Spectre, put it to me. of the honour. Make a good case out, and I'll stand by you, that I will,' cried Mr. Bull warmly. In his excitement he thumped his heavy fist upon the table, and I knew he meant. what he said. 'And we will help you all we can,' said the lovely creatures. How fortunate you came in time, Mr. Bull-just the very thing.'

And this is how I'm privileged to dedicate my book to John Bull, an ancestor of whom you, his worthy descendant, may even in the year one million (A.D. of course), be justly proud.

I was about to leave. I turned. Mr. Bull was in tears. Yes, John Bull-the great! the sturdy! the hearty!-in tears. There he stood with his dearly-loved boys' CONTRACTS in hand, which he was vainly endeavouring to decipher.' And they were for speculative accounts,' into which his poor boys had been inveigled. And I said to him at once, 'Mr. Bull, Mr. Bull, don't take it to heart so! Give them to me, please, and state the circumstances. If they can assist, amongst the mass of evidence I am daily collecting, I shall be sure to bring them forward.'

He thanked me, and I promised to call and get all the particulars of his sons' 'unfortunate accounts.'

Delicious music now struck up, and a voice in sweet, enthralling strains bade all to 'throw dull care away.' And gentle, little forms clustered around John Bull, and begged him not to cry. And this jolly old soul stooped and kissed the dear little maids, and in a moment I was gone-it was too much! And the hearts of the Women of the Old Countree were to be henceforth in honoured, if in Spectral keeping.

CHAPTER IV.

'Perhaps it may turn out a sang,
Perhaps turn out a sermon.'-BURNS.

speaking of, one of the Once arrived at its wild,

BLUFFSHIRE was, in the days I'm jolliest counties in the Old Countree. romantic coast, you could be as free and retired as fancy bade you, luxuriating in an almost unbroken solitude, while listening to the shriek of the wild fowl which abounded there in plenty. The lofty downs along the brink of the restless ocean invited to repose and relaxation, while the deep sea's roar filled the soul with rapture. If Bluffshire excelled in hospitality, for which it was proverbial, the noble house of Trememdon flourished as did no other in that part of the Old Countree. And when you fully understand that the Marquis of Tremendon

—was a fine Old Countree gentleman, one of the olden time,' you scarcely need be told that

nor what he did for

-he spent his money At a bountiful old rate,'

'-the old poor at his gate.

The villagers, the tenants, the neighbouring farmers, and the coast-guardsmen all along the borders of his great property, and, in short, every one who lived to bless his memory after he was gone, testified to his virtues and to his worth.

He was in those haly con days, not only the owner of a vast estate, but the proprietor of several mines in the neighbourhood of the castle, and was by far the most influential man in that part of the Old Countree.

The Trememdon family were one of the most ancient in Bluffshire. They were rooted in the soil. Scores and hundreds of them were, and in all probability are now, being daily transformed into Trememdon mutton, if Trememdon sheep grazed in those days, as they may do now, in old Trememdon churchyard.

Proud, however, as old Trememdon was of his stock, his descent, and his pedigree, there were other things he was at that time prouder of than even these.

One was his Unswerving Honour. Another was-his Unfaltering Rectitude. And a third was-his Boundless Goodwill. He would not merely say, 'Come, you shall be jolly here, or you shall go away.' He went further, for he said, You sha'n't

6

go away-you shall stay and be jolly.' And everybody stayed and was jolly.

His understanding with his tenantry was perfect, for it was personal. He would say, in cases of dispute, Look'ee here, my friend, all my estates belong to my tenants, and all my tenants belong to me; we are not two, but one!'

No wonder that the tenants loved him, for they believed in what he said, and he was as good as his word. It was of no use agitators coming; all that the tenants required was seasonable weather, and if that failed, the Marquis was lenient in collecting his rents, for he said, 'How can my tenants improve the estate if they lack the funds to do it with? The estate is ours! No, they cannot help the weather. I will diminish my expenses, and we will share our difficulties together. That old Thorne's a capital fellow,' said the Marquis to General Truelove, one day at dinner, but the old chap thought I wanted to make money out of him. Me! ha, ha, ha, ha!' And the old Marquis laughed long and merrily, and then told the General that he would have gone on thinking so, but that he jumped off his cob, and was down by the old fellow's side in a moment-no amount of reasoning would do-and got him by the hand, for Thorne and his family had held their land for many generations, and had always been good tenants. And to cut a long story short, Truelove, Thorne and a lot more are to come up to-morrow to an early dinner, and you shall see my tenantry. I told them they wouldn't see the Marchioness, and gave the reason why.'

At that moment tiny cries were audible, even in the great old castle hall. They proclaimed a recent event within those

ancient walls:

'A mother is a mother still:
The holiest thing alive.'

The lovely little Marchioness was in her room, and was certain to be there a few days longer. That was the reason why.

CHAPTER V.

'-they won't

Or can't do otherwise than lie, but do it

So well, the very truth seems falsehood to it.'-BYRON.

IN the days I am speaking about, the city of Undone was the largest in the world. It was the boast of the Old Countree. In its centre I found a great building called the Undone Vortex.