stealing behind the broad shoulders of his master, cautiously tasted the tempting mixture. A look of gratification spread over his countenance, and patting his abdominal regions significantly, he gave an imprudent crack of his lips. The Squire turned abruptly round, and discovered the cause of the impolitic effect.

'You disobedient whelp! what did I order not a minute since? said the Squire.

'Beg your pardon, sir; but I forgot to wait,' replied the confounded bacchanal, spilling the remainder upon the feet of his

master.

'Wrong upon injury!' exclaimed his master, shaking the wet from his boots, and continued, laughing, 'come, I'll fill your glass once more.'

All were charged. The Squire stood in the centre of the company, and holding his filled goblet high above his head, said in a foud voice, 'Here's the health and prosperity of Jumping Will and his pretty wife! May they live in uninterrupted happiness, peace, and plenty.'

Loud was the shout which rang from the circle of sincere friends upon the completion of the sentiment. Cheer after cheer rang far and wide as each continued to express the real fervour entertained. 'Now for one more,' said the Squire, as a finish.'

Far away that shout was heard; in the clear frosty air it went over hill and valley, wood and dell, as merrily as the occasion merited; and, as it died away into a scarcely audible echo, the hounds in the kennel not far off answered the cheerful sound by breaking into a sudden musical cry.

'That's as it should be?' exclaimed the Squire. You hear those dumb animals prompting you to speechify, William. Come, let's have it over.'

The huntsman stood forward; and with a slight exertion to obtain confidence by a preliminary cough, he commenced,

'My kind master, gentlemen, and friends, if I try at a long speech, I shall either break down, or get pounded; therefore, the sooner I cut across country the better. My talking for a year—supposing I could talk so long-couldn't say how much I'm obliged to ye for your great kindness to me and my wife here. Coming to my wedding, gentlemen o' the hunt, is more than I could or did expect; and now, all I've to say in conclusion is, take my best thanks for your favours to me and Ñance, and God bless you all.'

Will's brief speech was received with acclamations of pleasure from everybody; and after much kissing under the Druidical branch, with the pretended reluctance of the lasses, and the evinced sincerity of the lads, the Squire ordered the prepared dinner to be brought in.

Haunches of fine venison, barons of beef, fresh-killed pike from the store-pond, speckled trout, hares, rabbits, pigeon-pies, partridges, pheasants, plum-puddings, and other dainties, too numerous to mention, were in due time placed upon the long table, squeaking from the ponderous mass upon its surface. Then followed such a confusion of noises, out-Babeling Babel. Knives and forks rattled, plates clinked, chairs and benches were taken, and the feast commenced in earnest. The Squire sat in the centre of the guests, and was the very life of the scene. He talked to one, laughed with

another, hallooed to a third, and, if the etiquette observed in refined society was disregarded, more good-humour, fun and frolic, existed, than in the automaton circles of freezing fashion for an age.

Large round jugs of foaming ale quickly disappeared, and were as soon replaced. In the middle of the table, just opposite to the Squire, stood a huge wassail-cup, of antique form. It was filled to the brim with spiced wine. Taking hold of the sides with both hands, the Squire raised the vessel to his lips, and, as was his custom after a feast, said, 'I drink to the friendship of my guests.'

From him the cup was passed regularly round, and each drank from its contents, varying the toast to the friendship of my friend or master,' as the case might be.

The table was quickly cleared when the dinner was over, and numerous bowls of punch were introduced upon it. Bottles of port, 'old as the hills,' and of Madeira, bright as the beam of the bride's laughing eyes, were also placed in rows at proper distances. Now the smart joke and merry jest were cracked. Light was the laugh which momentarily came unrestrained from the hearts of the assem. bled carousers. Pledge after pledge were exchanged, and nothing was there but delight and revelry.

About an hour after the dinner all rose to clear away for the country-dance, and romping-reel.

The village Orpheus was mounted upon an empty barrel in the corner of the hall, and lustily he commenced scraping a rapid movement. The Squire led off the bride in the first dance, and enjoyed the spirit of it as much as any one.

'On with ye! Give them a hark-forward, William!' hallooed he; and the huntsman obeyed the instructions by stunning the company with a 'Yoiks! yoiks for'ard!' and concluded with a long musical wind upon his horn. On danced the merry company, until from want of breath they were obliged to pause.

Now for a glass of punch all round, and a song from William,' said the Squire.

Loud were the approvals to this suggestion; and, seating themselves, all were attentive for Jumping Will's song; who, without hesitation, in a fine round voice commenced,

VOL. V.

'Let smiles and bright eyes beam on me,

To glad my fleeting hours;

I love thee as a honey-bee

Loves bright and blushing flowers.

Nay, let no pouting curl thy lip,
No tear-drops dim thine eyes;.
But from the morn of life let's sip
Joy's sunbeams as they rise.

The world would be a mournful one
If doubts, and fears, and sighs,
Were giving us their lingering tone
To cloud our starry skies.

'So smile, dear girl, and let us say,

When time has culled the flowers,
Our life was like a summer's day,
Passed with the laughing hours."
41

Well-capitally warbled!' said the Squire.

reel. Strike up a brave tune, you fiddler there.'

Now for a brisk

Gaily thus the hours fled, and the night waned fast, when, during a pause, it was proposed by the bride that some one should relate a story. Drawing seats in a large circle round the log fire, all were eager for the tale. But who was to be the narrator?

A hunting story from Jumping Will,' said a voice, which suggestion met with unanimous approbation.

'Well, it's rather late for a long story; but I've told, so many times over, all save one, that I suppose you must have it by way of a change. When I was a boy, it was told to me by my grandmother, just on the day I entered the Squire's service. She called it

'THE LEGEND OF HASTINGS' CLIFF.'

I can't say how long since the facts I'm about telling you took place; but that doesn't signify.

'In an old manor-house, not far from the sea-shore, lived one of the loveliest ladies in England, called Agnes M'Caire. She was the heiress of a very rich old Colonel, who had passed the best part of his life in India, and with age and hard service was upon the verge of his grave, when his daughter captivated-as it's called by the gentry-a neighbouring gentleman; a fine, young, handsome foxhunter. Frederick Catonder, for that was his name, loved Miss M'Caire as others have loved "not wisely but too well;" and, like most other women under such circumstances, she took advantage of his folly. Wild as a fawn, the lady cared not what people thought of her gay freaks, which were pretty constant in some shape or other. Sometimes she would mount a vicious colt, deaf to the entreaties of everybody, and ride him with the speed of a pressed stag over heath and moor, hill and valley; her long hair streaming in the wind, and a careless laugh ringing from her lips as she swept over break-neck fences, walls, and brooks. When the gale whistled across the tossing waves, occasionally she might be seen alone, steering a light boat over the mountain-billows, as fearless of danger as the white sea-gull.

'Her father, who doted upon his untamed, beautiful child, never for a moment thought of checking with his authority any whim or inclination, however imprudent it might be. When angry at some past act of this kind, she would kiss and caress him out of ill-humour, and thus continued to do just as she pleased.

'Tis said that no one could withstand anything desired by Agnes M'Caire. If a smile did not procure what was wished, a frown from her black flashing eyes was certain to do so. The talk of the country round was the heiress of the Manor-house. The poor blessed her, and prayed for her preservation, or her charity to them was boundless. The sick would find her gliding into the chamber, smoothing their pillow with ready hand, and administering the consolation of an angel, as she was in some respects. In appearance, Miss M'Caire was a perfect beauty. Her skin was pink and white mingled, like the tints of the lily and the rose; her figure was tall, and proud in bearing; and, notwithstanding her wilfulness, but few eyes have seen a better, or more lovely lady.

Among numbers of other gentlemen, Mr. Catonder started in the race for the prize of Agnes M'Caire. He was a true gentleman,

with a kind, frank, and open heart. Not one in the county bore a superior name; and he was the admitted straightest rider in the hunt, both far and near. For a long time the lady treated him as she had done all others, with doubtful favour. Sometimes a cold distant look would be returned for an approaching attention; at other times, an unequivocal one of pleasure. Thus she continued to toy and play with the feelings of her admirers, just as an angler with a hooked trout; but Frederick Catonder had snared Miss M'Caire's heart, although he was ignorant of his success.

'Tormented and tired with the conflicting conduct of Miss Agnes, he resolved to settle the affair at a short jump-as I did with Nancy -yes or no; and one day, mounting his favourite horse, Mr. Frederick Catonder rode towards the manor-house for this purpose.

The morning had a dull look; the wind came in gusts, and then a dead calm ensued, changeable as the smiles and frowns of Miss M-Caire, when the lover, full of doubts and fears, cantered between the row of towering elms upon the hard road leading to the manorhouse.

The clattering of the horse's hoofs, as he neared, called the attention of Miss Agnes from teaching a pet spaniel to perform some trick; for her amusements generally consisted in attending upon her dogs and birds, and endeavouring to accomplish them in mis. chief. Books and music she never thought of, like other ladies; but occasionally all the servants and people about would stop in their work to listen to one of her untaught songs, which charmed like the fairy queen's. It was the old Colonel's greatest delight for her to sit close to his easy chair in the evening, and in a suppressed voice chant some heart-melting prayer of her own making, as the sun was setting behind the distant hills.

'Miss Agnes saw the horseman's approach, and at once thought of the object of his coming. It was earlier than usual for morning visits, and, from previous reasons, she had but little doubt of the cause of this one.

'He looks very handsome!' she exclaimed, and he's a kind, good, dear fellow. Shall I, or shall I not? That is my choice.' And her fair brow was knit in 'deep thought.

'Ringing the bell violently for her attendant, she hastily had her riding-habit put on, ordered her horse to be saddled and brought to the door immediately, and met Mr. Catonder upon the steps of the house, just as he had dismounted.

"Ah! Mr. Catonder. What, so early! I almost regret my intended gallop," said Miss M'Caire, with as roguish a look as ever probed the heart of a man.

"Perhaps you will permit me to accompany you?" replied Mr. Catonder, looking rather cofused.

"Well, I know of nothing that can be urged as a reasonable objection," replied Miss Agnes, carelessly.

"I should try to over-rule any that might be submitted THIS morning, I assure you, Miss M'Caire," rejoined Mr. Catonder, by way of a hint to what he was going to say.

"Indeed! What, so bold, Sir Knight!" exclaimed Miss Agnes, laughing.

The coward often becomes desperate, you know," replied he. ""Come, come, no craven similes. Coward, forsooth! What

gentleman ever had a dastard's nerves? If by accident there is such a thing, and he spoke, or even looked at me, I'd whip him from my sigt like an offending hound." And the lady's riding switch cracked in the air as she suited the action to the words.

"By my honour, I shouldn't like to come under the lash," said Mr. Catonder. "But I hope that I am in no such danger."

"No, indeed. I believe you may deem yourself free from any such ordeal," replied Miss Agnes.

"That permission I consider a compliment. But where do you intend riding? Is the dew-drop to be brushed from the heath-bell, or the emerald turf pressed upon the downs?"

6.66

Inquired with all the romance of a time-yellowed novel,” replied Miss M'Caire. No more of such vapid nonsense to me. However, we'll gallop over the downs to the sea-shore. You've no objection to ride fast?"

"None in the least," was the reply.

"If you had, I should soon distance you; for I dote upon racing with my greyhounds there. You shall see the fleet fellows outstrip the wind. I love to see them fly along. Then how my horse tries to beat them in their matchless speed! Every muscle is strained to cracking. He throws back his ears, and sweeps the ground like a chased hare; I cheer him in his exertions. His veins full of fire, and swelled as the fibres on a vine-leaf, on we go in our chase of fun and glee, merry as a set of mad-caps, as we are," said Miss Agnes, flushed with the excitement she felt at her own description.

'The horse was now brought to the door, and no sooner saw his mistress than, giving a plunge forward, he neighed a loud recog. nition.

"You see what it is to be a favourite of mine," said Miss M'Caire, smoothing the arched neck of her pleased horse, and springing lightly into the saddle.

"That it is an enviable condition," replied Mr. Catonder, mounting his steed, and at one bound was at the side of the lady.

A small silver whistle was suspended round the neck of Miss Agnes: placing it to her lips, she blew a long shrill summons. It was answered by a leash of large superb greyhounds rushing towards them, which jumped to the saddle-bow, and screamed with delight, when they arrived at the place where their mistress waited for them. Then they ran some distance before, and stood with pricked ears, as if inviting the usual course of a joyful bloodless sport. It was the only one they were permitted to have; for no living creature was ever injured, or allowed to be, by Miss M'Caire. 'Tis said the birds even knew that they were free from danger when near her, and built their nests in the luxuriant ivy which crept about her bed-room casement, feeding without fear from her hands. gold fish would frisk about, and allow her fingers to caress them in the globe, when she dropped in fresh moss and grass, as was her daily custom. All things loved her, as well they might; for her kindness of heart was only equalled by her acts of goodness and charity.

Her

'Few have had so many blessings showered upon their heads as Miss Agnes. From childhood her name was never mentioned scarcely but with "Heaven save from harm, and watch over the good lady!"