I thought it folly, when that gentle girl
Gathered forget-me-nots' with eager glee;
But when another sought, another gave,
Then I, with eagerness of joy, received,
The very blossoms that I once had spurned.
With her I loved, I sauntered in the dell;
With her I loved, I lingered on the hill,
To watch the setting of the glorious sun;
And e'en the golden orb appeared less bright

Than those jet orbs which beamed with love on me;
And even Nature's melodies were heard,

With less of rapture than the tuneful voice,

Which breathed harmonious music in mine ear.
We wandered hand in hand at eventide,
Silent at times through very ecstacy,
Attent to Philomel's sweet song of love,
Breathing of tenderness, so like our own;
Oh! happy hours were those; yet, even they
Were not unmixed with sorrow; even then
We had our gloomy, overhanging clouds ;
Oft, from our hearts, a sympathizing sigh
Would start, whene'er a deep-toned Bell was heard,
The teasing, the tormenting Curfew Bell,
Which warned us from our ditties to our dreams,

Which bade us hasten home, for, at that hour,

Still did my father close the day with prayer.
To Manhood grown, how different do I feel
Whene'er I visit Lutterworth and list
The sonorous pealing of its Curfew Bell!
At times, a sympathising tear will stand
Glistening within my eye, whilst memory tells
The tale of days long flown, of friends beloved
Now absent far, or mouldering in the tomb!

Oh! ever will that Bell be dear to me,
For though it cause a sigh of fond regret
For absent loved-ones, and companions dead,
Yet does it conjure up, dear, happy thoughts,

A thousand thoughts of childhood's halcyon hours;
And should I e'er re-visit Lutterworth

In company with one as fair and dear,

As her in youth I thought I truly loved

With love that time nor place could ever change;

I'll tell her of my early love, that love

So pure and ardent, but which manhood's love
Outweighs in truthfulness and constancy;
I'll tell her of my boyish games and freaks,
I'll teach her how to sympathise with me,
And list with pleasure to the Curfew Bell.

ELZA GUADA.

THE PARALYTIC LADY;

A STROLLING-PLAYER'S COACH ADVENTURE.

BY EDWARD DANIELL, Esq.

I WAS engaged one season by old Stiggins of the Bath Theatre to play low comedy. I had, however, a better engagement to complete in the country, before I could join his company. The sudden illness of one of his best performers in my line compelled him to urge my instant departure at all 1isks; moreover, he accompanied his mandate with a very pretty remittance, whereby I was enabled to assume the gentleman, and actually became a passenger on the outside the Bath stage. This was a privilege of an exalted character for me, for the times were not palmy for the sons of Thalia or Melpomone at the period when I date my story, and the buskin heroes were more frequently doomed to stump their journeys from place to place on foot, or, at most, in a stage waggon, than to enjoy the luxuries of such a vehicle which it was my happiness to mount on this glorious occasion. However, I took my place; but, while I was in the act of ascending, I was suddenly startled by the sight of one of the loveliest creatures I ever beheld, sitting inside the coach with apparently no other protector than an old lady opposite her. With the rapidity of lightning, a magnificent thought crossed my pericranium,--a thought which the more I dwelt upon it, the more I seemed incited to put it into execution. "There is a tide in the affairs of men," says Shakspeare-but it had been at low ebb with me all my days, it had not even so much as amounted to a swell, not one single wave had rolled over another which could by possibility" lead to fortune." Something seemed to whisper to my heart" the hour is come, the flood has set in, ride upon its glorious waters and fortune shall be yours." Nor was I reasoning without fair data, for, at this time of day when I can look back upon the little vanities of youth, and speak of my personal attractions without fear of being charged with egotism, I feel bound to say I was no uncomely person. I dressed well-had a pair of rosy cheeks of my own, a set of good teeth, was straight as an arrow, and, to crown all, could boast of a splendid pair of rich, curly whiskers, which gave to my physiognomy a bold, martial and lady-winning character; add to these, I had lots of poetical scraps, soft, tender, sentimental stanzas at my fingers' ends, which tend in no small degree to give efficiency and force to the shafts of Cupid. Qualifications of this kind are admirably calculated to touch the hearts of swain-seeking maidens between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five; their gentle hearts are wrought upon by the soothing melody of numbers-they melt under the influence of a sonnet, and are enraptured with sweet pictures in verse of arcadian shades, bowers of eglantine, meandering streams and purling rivulets. But as they advance in life, and the stern realities of mundane affairs obtrude themselves,-then, sentiment is at a discount,

and the person is valued not in proportion to his stock of quotations, but, in proportion to his stock in the three per cent consols ;-nevertheless, these charming qualifications do oftimes come again into operation between the ages of thirty-five and fifty-five, when beauty is on the wane, and the chances of wealthy suitors decline; then, something tender and touching is peculiarly effective,-a slice of Ovid, -a scrap of Tibullus-a small square out of Hammond's Elegies—or an impassioned burst from the ravings of Romeo and Juliet-go a great way indeed, towards winning vestals of dubious and unmentionable ages.

"Coachee," says I, after coursing a solitary half-crown round the prodigious pocket of my untalkaboutables, which at last I fairly seized between my middle and index fingers" Coachee-I'd give you this for a ride inside."

Coachee eyed me with rather a knowing look, and giving me one of those peculiar winks which belong to the tribe of Jehus-winks which are singularly eloquent, being capable of a multitude of variations-having modifications analogous to cadences in language, and which are so expressive that you may run and read them, -I read this in an instant, it spoke as plain as a wink could speak, and actually brought the color into my cheek ;—it said " I 'm up to you my boy."

"Why," says Coachee-" you don't mean to say you're cold with a burning sun over your head, enough to fry a soger on the roof of the coach ?"

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'No," says I—“ not cold-only I've a sort of whim—a notion that I should like to go inside."

"A notion--a whim-humph!" replied Jehu,-" you see 'd that pretty gal I take it, and you want to be poaching, does you-well-well I wont spoil sportgis your rhino, and you may turn in at the next stage." And, at the next stage I found myself side by side with the beautiful girl.

What is the reason that English people are so absurdly taciturn outside or inside a coach? I essayed in a hundred different ways to commence a conversation, but without effect, the rumble and shake of the vehicle seemed to rumble and shake all ideas out of our heads, and I began at last to suspect that I had better have kept my half-crown in my pocket, than have thrown it away on such a profitless speculation. Accident, at last, broke the ice. The elder lady had a wicker-cased brandy-bottle-a very useful appendage to elderly ladies who ride inside coachesadmirable to meet the contingencies of a long journey, and peculiarly serviceable in case of flatulence or spasm-disorders somewhat incident to senility—she had just wetted her lips with a minute portion of its contents, when the wheel of the coach evidently bounced over a stone, and gave her arm such a jerk that the wickercased brandy-bottle bounced out of her hand and fell with no small velocity on my toe, having in the progress of its descent given me a tolerable rap on the tender part of my shin.

This little circumstance called forth all the dormant politeness of the old lady ;— she was grieved, concerned, for she was sure, because of its weight and velocity, it must have hurt me exceedingly :-innumerable were her bows and apologies and my pray don't mention it ma'am," &c. &c. We now found our tongues;— we talked of the weather, of books, of poetry, of the theatre, and a multitude of

other topics, at all of which I was quite au fait. Then I entertained them with anecdotes and stories, some comic, some moral, some sentimental, and, in the course of the ride I sung them a few songs, as well as the noise of the carriage would allow. It was quite clear what I had said and what I had done, had accomplished one great aim I had especially in view, viz.-to impress them with a high opinion of my talents, and I even went so far in my own conceit, as to flatter myself I had made some progress in touching the heart both of mother and daughter. I could not help observing, however, that there was something about the daughter which I could not well understand, and which I must say disconcerted and damped me.

She had a most peculiar smile, the angle of one side of her mouth did not correspond with the other; instead of acting in concert, they were opposed, one, being turned upwards, and the other, downwards, at the same time. She had, likewise, a singular lisp, not as one with a short tongue, or natural impediment, but a lisp like one who attempts to talk while he sucks a whip-handle, or with a mouth full of plums.

I tried repeatedly to solve the difficulty of this strange defect, but in vain; at length, I dismissed it from my mind, regarding it as a peculiarity of no great importance. We all have something to detract from our charms; something to counterpoise the good, a modicum of bitter amongst the sweets, otherwise the world would be peopled with angels. From the conversation and other circumstances connected with my fellow-travellers I had arrived at one conclusion, viz.—" they were rich,”—and this, like charity, covers a multitude of defects,—it hides ugliness and deformity, and even gives gracefulness to a hump-after all, bating the little singularity which I have named, the young lady was decidedly handsome, nay-when her face was in a state of repose-I scarcely ever beheld a more lovely one.

The sombre aspect of evening crept slowly on and, as the light gradually receded, we again seemed to relapse into our taciturn state; the mother gave audible evidence that she was growing oblivious; she gaped, nodded, grew fidgety, and, at last, fully abandoning herself to the quietude of Morpheus, she plunged her head into the soft corner of the couch and fell fast asleep. This was a favorable moment to whisper soft things to the young lady, but, somehow, I could not muster courage to begin. The sleepy god seemed inclined to revenge himself on the slight thus offered to his brother divinity, for he extended the influence of his poppy juice to the lovely daughter. Ye gods! can I utter my ecstacies, can I paint the thrilling sensations which tingled through my nerves, and made my blood boil over with delight? why, this divine creature, this angelic object, this prototype of Ianthe,-after various little movements, and a few somniferous noddings, deliberately laid her head upon my shoulder, and suffered her sweet countenance to come in close contact with my cheek! Was ever happy wight so enchanted! Was ever devoted lover so blessed! I planted a miniature kiss on her lovely temple, I pressed it with the fervor of an anchorite in the hours of his deepest devotion,-yet she did not move it-no! she rather courted a renewal of my warmth, for I felt an increase of weight against my lips after every salutation. Her hand had fallen carelessly by her side, and rested

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upon the cushion of the coach. I contrived to turn my fingers round hers, and to grasp her hand tightly; it was a true-lover's squeeze-one of those peculiar and systematic kinds of pressure which evince the ardor of affection, and which every lady understands so well!-still, she made no objection; nay, I fancied she slightly returned it, and then I became satisfied that her sleep was assumed. Imagination became fired at the thought, and I began to conjure up bright and glorious visions of happiness, which wealth and such an object would be certain to ensure. I saw, in prospect, smoking-hot dinners every day-wine and walnuts-cosey fires and comfortable squabs-powdered lackeys and hosts of merry faces to grace my hospitable board little miniature prototypes of my own individual-self danced before my awakened fancy in all the loveliness and sweetness of infantine grace and beauty. Stiggins the immortal Stiggins-was not forgotten. I hailed him as my guardian angel, and resolved he should feel the happy effects of my fortune. Yes, said I, Stiggins shall be patronized-his theatre shall overflow. I will show my gratitude by bespeaking a play-" The Honeymoon ?" No, no, something more spicy-more touching than that. The prince of play-wrights, Bob Distitch, shall write a comedy on purpose" The Sleeping Beauty; or, Love in a Stage." Capital title !—glorious thought! Ah! continued I, divine, lovely creature! Thou art one of those beautifully romantic specimens of nature that come like angels' visits to gladden the mortal vision but too rarely. Thou dost wish to be loved for thyself alone, and dost choose thy partner, not as worldlings do, amidst the dross and the filthiness of the earth, but from the sons of genius and talent, and dost honor mind, even though its outward habiliments were confined to a thread-bare Benjamin-covering togery of shreds and patches. Yes, thou hast no eye, no heart, for the venal tribe who seek only corn in Egypt-whose longing is for mammon, the base mammon-who take thee with thy estate, not as a charming appendage, but as a necessary incumbrance —a kind of mortgage-from which they pray God to be speedily delivered.

In this beautiful dream of prospective felicity I continued to indulge, while we rolled onward to our destination, my hand still grasping that of the fair unknown, and her cheek still resting upon mine. Oh! how I longed to whisper all sorts of tenderness—to breathe fervid aspirations—to utter unutterable things—but she slept on, or seemed to do so, and all I could attempt in that way was still to keep my lips close to her cheek, and kiss inaudible kisses: I dared not venture upon a loud one, lest I should disturb the elder lady, and she should hear it, which, perhaps, in her fastidiousness might not be quite agreeable, she might consider such tokens of love rather premature, and elderly ladies have sometimes queer conceits on such matters, I therefore took the safer way, and compressed my lips into whispering salutations-mere liliputian smacks !

We were now fast approaching the city of King Bladud, the city of pumps and boilings springs-the city of shattered constitutions-yet all this while I had omitted one grand enquiry-an omission fatal to the scheme I had so well organized in my mental laboratory-I knew not their location, nor should be likely to worm it out of them, if they continued in their somniferous state to the end of the journey. Fortune, however, was still my friend-the old lady was the first to manifest tokens