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Whether the fear of " catching it” kept off his , was daily opened, and the smith was visitors or not we cannot tell; but it is certain work at his forge, and it was also seen that he that from that time the building lost much of its remained upmolested, the tide of public opinion wizard reputation, and subsided into a mere changed, and it was then openly asserted that common-place ruin.

none but a man of good repute could thus But this is a history of times past. Billy stand his ground against the powers of darklong since went swearing to his grave. Like all ness; that it was a shame that he should not be iron-souled characters, he left his mark in the encouraged. And thus by degrees John Biggs memories of those about him; and as the green became one of themselves; part and parcel of hillock which rested over his once sturdy breast the town; and his shop became the gatheringwas pointed out, the simple villagers seemed to place of all the idlers and gossips of the village. wonder that the grass could grow so quietly Gradually, too, the urching of the place began over the grave of one so redoubted; and not a to seek the acquaintance of little Tom Biggs, few of the veterans who remembered Billy in for so the boy was named, and his quiet, gentle his prime, when they were boys, ventured the ways soon won them. They saw that he was prediction that when " Old Nick got hold of but a feeble, sickly little fellow; and when he him he'd meet his match."

stood looking patiently on at their boisterous After Billy's days the mill became more and games, they not unfrequently changed them to more dilapidated. Time and Storm wrote their those of a more quiet description, in order that story upon it in strong characters. Everything he might join them. There seemed some tie, about it ran wild; the grass formed into a however, to link him to his father, more close green sod in its chambers ; and ivy and other than that which usually exists between parent plants clambered over its walls; the trees and child ; and although his actions were which had been young in the days of Harold checked, and he came and went as he pleased, grew to be giants, and drooped over the ruin ; he usually stole away from his playfellows, and and the willows trailed their thread-like branches passed his time at the forge, watching his father in the quiet lake whose waters once turned its at work, with eyes that seemed never to weary, wheel. Things remained thus until a

The shop was dusty and dark, and begrimed comer arrived in the village. He was a plain, with soot and smoke, aud full of dim corners unpretending man, a blacksmith by trade. He and odd angles, in which were heaped old iron, took a fancy to the ruin because he found that and broken barrels, and odds and ends of it could be got at a low rent, and his means rubbish which had remained there from the time were limited. He paid no attention to the tales when the place had been used as a mill, and attached to it, but hired it of the descendants of which, as there was much more room than be Billy Harold, and in good earnest set about knew wbat to do with, John had never removed. converting it into a smithy. In a very short In the midst of it rose the huge chimney of time the black smoke from the chimney and the the forge, built upon the bare earth, and extendroar of his forge told that he had commenced his ing upward until its end was lost in the smoke work, and the clink of his hammer could be which eddied about the rafters of the roof. heard from morning till night. He was a Horse-shoes, hinges, bolts, and various articles staiwart, powerful man, slow of motion, and of iron-ware were hung on pegs, or ranged earnest of speech. His hair was short and about in different parts of the place. slightly grizzled, and his features were heavy and In the dim recesses of the shop, and in the massive, and bore a harsh and forbidding dark passages of the mill, and in the old ruined expression that belied his character.

chambers, the boy used to pass much of his The traditions respecting the mill were still time, until he seemed to grow almost as strange fresh in memory, and many looked askanceat one and goblin-like as the former unearthly tenants who could venturethus recklessly to plant himself who had made the place their haunt. in such an ill-omened spot; and rumours be- Time waned, and he grew more quiet and came rife that he and the ghostly frequenters of still. He no longer joined the other boys at the place were on terms of better fellowship their play, but was seen the most of the time than they should be. He however took no sitting at the door of the smithy, or lying benotice of the rumours, nor of the cold looks neath the shade of the trees which overhung it. that frequently met him, but went on with his His pale cheek and feeble gait, and the painfully business, bammering away at his horse-shoes, patient look which sat upon his young face, and patiently waiting for better times. His only told that all was not well with him. John, too, companion was a child of about seven years of worked less assidiously at his forge, for he age, who seemed as lonely and unpretending as might be seen at times sitting under the trees, the old man. He took no part in the plays of with the child's head resting on his knee, the other boys of the place, but sat patiently at endeavouring to amuse him with tales of other the door of the forge watching his father at his times and other lands ; for John had lived work, and helping him in such things as his abroad. strength would allow; and when the day's By degrees summer passed away, and the labour was over, he would put his hand in that brown shade of autumn crept among the of the old man, and walk with him quietly to a leaves. Little Tom no longer walked to the small house which he had hired in the outskirts forge, but his father carried him there in his of the village. As time waned, and the shop arms ; and as yet they were as much together

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as before : but the child's cheek grew more and he rested it on the anvil, and stond gazing in the more wan, his eye more Instrous, and th? sad, 'fire. quiet expression on his face deepened; but he There was a movement to go in the group, never complained. Time passed by, aud John for they saw that there was something weighing came to his work alone, for little Tom had taken heavily on the mind of the blacksmith, and to his bed.

with an instinctive feeling of delicacy they It was at about eight o'clock on a bright star- left him to himself. He did not observe their light night at this time, that John Biggs was at departure, but long after they had gone conwork in this shop. He had a heavy job ontinued absorbed in thought. hand, and was labouring earnestly to finish it, “The good have gone, and are going," said his face fairly glowing with exertion and with he, sadly," while I, a poor, useless hulk, am left. the reflection of the fire. Gathered about the He was a good man! God bless him and little forge, but far enough off to be out of reach of | Harry. God bless the boy !" the red sparks as they flew from beneath the The fire in John's forge became dim, and at blows of the ponderous hammer, might be seen last went out. John looked round for those the indistinct forms of two or three idlers, who who had loitered there, but they were gone, and had dropped in to chat over the news of the he closed the shutters of his shop, bolted the place, and to watch the labours of the untiring heavy door, and went to his home. artisan, who, with his arms bare to the elbow, He walked with a sturdy step until he came and with a thick leathern apron to keep off the to the door of his house; bnt it might have been sparks, kept steadily on at his work. It might observed that there he hesitated, and the expres. have been observed that his whole manner was sion of anxiety deepened on his face as be restless and uneasy, and there was occasionally entered it. He crossed a narrow hall, and went an anxious glance at the door, as if he expected into a small room, which had usually been ocor feared the arrival of some one.

cupied by himself and his child before Tom had " How is little Tom?” inquired one of his taken to his bed. visitors, upon whom his look was not lost. He looked anxiously about. There was a It's a long time since he was here."

little chair drawn near the fire; the well-worn “A month,” replied Johd; "but he's better hat and coat of the boy huug upon a peg, and now; he'll be out soon, very soon.

beneath was a pair of small coarse shoes. John As he spoke, he struck a heavy blow upon took the shoes in his hand and eyed them wist. the red-hot iron which he held, and bent his fully; then placed them gently down, and, going head down as if to examine it; then turning to the hearth, stood with his arms folded and away, went back into the shop to search for looked into the fire. something.

At that moment the door of an inner room A ineaning glance passed between the former opened, and a woman entered. speaker and one of the group, but nothing

more How is he?" inquired John, in a subdued was said. When John came back he did not go voice. to the fire, but went to the door and looked up “He's better," was the reply. “ Harry Lindat the sky,

say is with him.” The night has set in dark, John, hasn't it?" Jobn followed her into the child's room. His said the other.

eye rested for a moment on Harry, and then "Yes, very dark, dark indeed,” said John, wandered to the bed on which lay little Tom, partly to himself and partly in reply to the wasted by disease. The bright look of childquestion.

hood was gone, and had given place to an ex• He stood at the door for some time, and was pression of patient suffering. He seemed prejust turning to re-enter, when the sharp sound maturely old. His dark eyes brightened, lowof a galloping horse caught his ear, and he ever, as he caught sight of the blacksmith, and stopped to listen. In a minute afterward a he stretched out his arms to him. horseman checked his horse in front of the “How is it with you, my little boy?” said door, and holding his hand before his eyes, to John, as he got on his knees by the bedside, 80 shut out the bright light of the forge, called as to bring his face on a level with that of the out:

child. The boy placed his thiu arms about his “ John Biggs, are you here?".

father's neck, and drew his face down on the “Ay," replied John, laconically.

pillow, and nestled his cheek against it. “ Mr. Lindsey wants to see you to-night. "I'm better, father,” he said, endeavouring to He's very ill. Can you come?”

smile, and turning his face so as to look into * Ay,” replied John, in the same laconic way. the kind eyes which were gazing upon bim. "And can you bring Harry Lindsey with “And you'll be well soon, won't you, Tom?"

He's been with little Tom all day.' said John, cheerily. · Has he ? God bless him !” ejaculated Oh! very soon, very soon," replied the boy. Joho. “I'll bring him.”

“And when you get stronger,” said John, The man gave bis horse a sharp cut of the I'll carry you down to the old willows, and I'll whip, and galloped off. John walked into the make up a bed of the fresh hay, and you can shop and took up his ponderous hammer, but he lie there near the forge, and watch the fish had struck but one or two blows with it before swimming about in the pond; and you'll be

you ?

66

near me, and I can see you all day long; and "Just there it was," replied Jittle Toin ; "but the fresh air will soon make you quite well it's gone now. I'm getting well now. again."

“ Ha! that's rigbi, that's right, Torn!" said The child's face brightened as he listened. John, joyously. And now, Tom," added he,

"And Harry he'll go with us?” said he, rising from the bed, “ I've been sent for by Mr. pointing to the boy who was standing by the Lindsey, and I must go; but I'll be back quite bedside.

soon. Coine, Master Harry, you are to go with " Ay," replied John, cheerily, " that he will me, for it's a dark night. Tom, won't you and we'll have fine times."

thank him for coming to see you ?” “Ay," said Tom, echoing with his feeble voice feeble imitation of his father's heartiness. “Thac

“That I will,” replied the child, in the same something of his father's cheery tones,

I do. Good-night,” said he, earnestly : "you'll will."

come again to-morrow, Harry?" Harry Lindsey said nothing, but looked “Oh yes !” replied the boy. “Good-night." earnestly into the eyes of the buy, and then into He turned and looked once more into the the face of the blacksmith, as if endeavouring to face of his playfellow, and again into that of the read there an explanation of some perplexing old man, and went out without speaking. thought.

" Father, kiss me before you go," said Tom. "And how is the pain which troubled you John stooped and kissed him, and then, gently 80?" inquired Joho. It was there, wasn't it?" unclasping the arms which encircled bis neck, said he, placing his hand upon the breast of the said: “['ll be back very spon. Come, Master child.

Harry."

" that we

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THE THEATRES, &c.

OPENING OF THE NEW CHARING-CROSS Another of those new theatres devoted to the

THEATRE: PRODUCTION OF A NEW PLAY pleasures of “vanity fair,” and the “nods, and FOR MISS BATEMAN AT THE HAYMARKET. becks, and wreathed smiles” of extravaganza

actresses, bas opened under the name of the Theatrical entertaininents — which now can CHARING CRoss theatre, The site is that of hardly be called the “Drama”-have attained i be late Polygraphic Hall of Mr. W. S. Woodin. their zenith of popularity with half-a-dozen new The managers of the little “Charing Cross” theatres flourishing, and as many glitteringly establishment appear proud of the fact that mounted burlesques p! yed nightly to audiences their “ Wooden Ö” is so diminutive; and they whose delight is ceni: ed in meretricious song rather ostentatiously announce that there is no and dance. There is a new system in vogue of gallery for the accommodation of the public, conducting theatres. The policy of the entre and that there is no "half-price." But they preneurs appears now to be to transfer the bave ample compensation to offer; for management to vicarious, but nevertheless quite irresponsible parties. The ostensible

“ Silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies,” managers 80 selected are persons who possess and the luxuries of their sofa-stalls and upsome kind of name before the public as con- holstery in the auditoriuin cannot be denied. nected with literature or art; but were never But wiih all this external show and glitter we before supposed to be capitalists. It is said should have preferred a more substantial fare that one of the gay theatres recently opened in than the inangurative performances of the the vicinity of the Strand, with very stylish ac- Charing Cross” company provided. The cessories, is in reality the property, not of a lever de rideau was an operatic sketch, entitled certain littérateur whose name is ostentatiously Coming of Age," written by J. E. Carpenter, printed at the head of the play-bill, but of the the song-writer, the music being composed by proprietor of a morning newspaper. Doubtless E. L. Hime, and the characters supported by a “dummy” managers and lessees are even a respectable staff. Then followed a inild threehetter device than "manageress”- actresses. act drama of much tenuity of texture, entitled Under the former term the capitalist-lessee may " Edendale.” The piece treats of an American import extraneous matters into the drama, which subject, and relates dramatically an episode of in no way belong to it; but are only sbow, and the American War, in which there are contenalluring adjuncts, calculated to attract "fast" tions like those of the Montagus and Capulets, audiences and the "gaping crowd.”

The characters were well represented by a com

scene

pany nearly all provincials, led by Mr. J. G. of M. Raphael Felix, the manager, and the fair Shore (from the Princess's) and Miss Hughes Schneider (the Grande Duchesse herself), who (from the Olympic). The concluding entertain- were among the “route of Comus," the afment was a burlesque (of course), the subject frighted children of Orpheus and Offenbach being Bellini's “ Norma,” which had been tra- were induced to return where duty called. vestied half-a-dozen times before the present On the 21st instant a play of remarkable Druidical sacrifice was offered. Miss Cicely merit and interest-albeit, it was a play made Nott, Miss Irwin, Miss Ernstone, and Miss out of a novel-was produced at the HAYGarthwaite—the three latter, from the provinces MARKET, under the title of “Mary Warner.” -are valuable acquisitions.

The piece is from the pen of Mr. Tom Taylor. M, Augier's "Gabrielle," a French five-act It treats of a story of poverty and crime becomedy, in verse, first represented in Paris some longing to the kind of life such as is known to twenty-one years ago, has repeatedly tempted the poorer inhabitants of the metropolis. These the British adapter to exercise his craft upon “short and simple annals of the poor” furnish it; and “Gabrielle" has now furnished the a'tale redolent of the police office and the Central ADELPHI with a new melo-drama, which they Criminal Court, with a democratic element suhave pre-historically entitled “Eve.” The ar- pervening, as a set-off to the domestic interest guments by which a husband induces his wife of the piece. All the characters' were well susand her lover to abstain from proceeding too tained. Mr. Compton, as Tollet, the sergeant far on the road to the Divorce Court are of that of police, was very amusing; while Miss Batesentimental kind which Adelphi audiences like. man fully sustained her reputation for pathetic The material discomforts their persistence in power. Mr. Kendal was happy in the delineaerror entails upon the corrupt couple give tion of the modern "working-man" class of form and substance to the mise en

hero, and Miss Caroline Hill, as the starving and the contrasts in the domestic life re- wife, acted extremely well, even by the side of presented are enjoyed, now for their pathos, Miss Bateman. Mr. Howe has the part of a then, perhaps, for their humour. The general Lambeth workman, which he took his usual performance of the Adelphi company was not pains with. We must not omit to notice the up to the level required by M. Augier's play, playing of Miss Mary White, in a child's even if represented by the meanest French character, pathetically rendered, without a trace company. The best sustained character was of what is called "parotting” being manifested. the Mrs. Grimsditch of Mrs. A. Mellon. Mr. Dryden wrote-Webster has, apparently, a liking for the part of Wollaston, the husband, and played certain of

“And as the prompter breathes the more emotional scenes in “Eve” with force

The puppet squeaks!” and success. Miss Furtardo's uneducated style and cold snappish manner quite unfits her for but the infantile actress at the Haymarket has the part of the wife. Mr. 'H. Neville is the given quite an intelligent study to the part she most stolid and unengaging of lovers. The performs, and is no parroquet. scenic appliances are sufficiently handsome, but

For those who have scruples against "stage the billiard-table, in the second act, seemed plays” “ dramatic readings are in the present brought on to advertise the makers as much as day provided in greater abundance than ability. for any other purpose.

It is true that Mr. Bellew is a good "reader," On June 7th burlesque and extravaganza and that Mr. Charles Dickens was a better ; took the place of high comedy at the St. that Miss Glynn reads Shakespeare admirably James's Theatre, and Mdlle. Schneider and is indisputable; but that the Wilsons, MontaM. Dupuis succeeded M. Lafont and Malle. gues, Phillips', and others, who now profess Leonide Leblanc. “La Grande Duchesse” has dramatic reading, are acquisitions we doubt. lost nothing of its popularity by its twelve- Mr. H. J. Montague is called one of our most months' absence from the boards of the St. popular and rising comedians," and he has James's. Malle. Schneider startles by her taken to “readings at the Queen's Concert naif audacity and her surprising elan; but some Rooms. Now, Mr. Montague has a good deal of her by-play is suggestive of a corruptness of of stage sang froid, but it is of a sort that might manners which is generally kept out of sight denote a vacant rather than a full mind. It is in English theatres. There happened to the certain, at any rate, that, as a reader, Mr. opera-buffa troupe at the St. James's lately Montague's forte does not lie in impassioned a surprise, which ended in a “scene,” in the or tragic passages.

E. H. MALCOLA. conlisses. An explosion of gas in the saloon of The ORATORIO CONCERTS, under Mr. the parterre, just as the doors were about to be Barnby, were brought to the termination of a opened, drove the actors and actresses, panic- short and, we believe, eminently successful stricken, from their dressing-rooms into the season, by the Conductor's benest, on Tuesday street a fine summer's evening, thus evening, June 15, when the Jephtha of Handel allowing wayfarers to discover

of (with additional accompaniments by Arthur S. the processes of the boudoir by which Sullivan) was given before a large and fashionFrench actresses make themselves up to be able audience. A winter season of these admi“beautiful for ever.” By dint of the exertions rable Oratorio Concerts is promised.

on

some

THE LADIES' PAGE.

CLARENDON LACE.
Boar's-head Crochet-cotton, No. 18, of Walter Evans & Co., Derby.

MATERIALS.

*

1st. row.- Make a chain, and on it a row of, 9th.--4 long, * 3 chain, 2 long in de, of last long stitch.

row, 4 chain, 2 long in the same loop, 3 chain, 2nd.-1 long, 2 chain, miss 1, repeat. 4 long, the first on the second of last row, 3

3rd.–1 long worked into space, 2 chain, re- chain, dc in space. 5 chain, dc in space, 3 peat.

chain, 4 long, the first on the chain stitch next 4th.–1 long into space, * 5 chain, miss 1 before the long of last row, repeat from space, 1 long into next space, repeat from *. 10th.-4 long, * 3 chain, dc in second space,

5tb.-4 long into first space, 2 chain, 2 loog 3 chain, 4 long, the first on the second long into next space, 4 chain, 2 long in same space stitch, 3 chain, i long in centre of the five chain, as last, 2 chain, 4 long in next space, 2 chain, 6 3 chain, 4 long-the first on the chain stitch long with one chain between each in next space, next before the long of last row, repeat from *. 2 chain, repeat.

ilth.-4 long, * 3 cnain, 2 long in dc of last 6th.--4 long, three of them being on those Irow, 5 chain, 2 long in same loop, 3 chain, 4 of former row, and the last on the next chain ong--the first on the second of last row, 3 stitch, 2 chain, dc in second space, 2 chain, 4 chain, i long on former one, 3 chain, 4 longlong, the first in the chain stitch next before the first on the chain stitch next before the long the long ones of last row, 3 chain, dc into divi- of last row, repeat from *. sion between first two long stitches next in 12th.-4 long, 3 chain, dc in second space, 3 former row, 5 chain, dc in next space, 5 chain, chain, 4 long on those of last row, 2 chain 4 repeat dc and 5 chain twice more, dc, 3 chain, long with one chain between each, and all four repeat.

into the middle loop over the long stitch of 7th.-4 long, the last one on the chain, 2 last row, 3 chain, repeat. chain, 2 long into dc of last row, 4 cbain, 2 long 13th.-4 long, 2 chain, 2 long in dc of last in same loop, 2 chain, miss 1, 4 long, 3 chain, row, 5 chain, 2 long in same loop, 2 chain, dc into loop of five, 5 chain, repeat this dc 5 4 long on those of last row, 2 chain, dc in chain three times more, dc 3 chain, repeat. second space, 5 chain caught into next space,

8th.--4 long, * 3 chain, dc in second space, 2 chain repeat. 3 chain, 4 long, the first of them on the second 14th.-4 long, 5 chain, dc in second space, 5 of previous row, the last one of course on the chain, 4 long on those of last row, 5 chain, dc first of the chain, 3 chain, dc in space as before, in second space, 5 chain, dc 5 chain, repeat. 5 chain, dc in space, 5 chain, dc in space, 3 15th.-4 dc, * 10 chain, dc in space before chain, 4 long, the first in the chain stitch next the four long, 10 chain, dc in space after the before the long ones, repeat from *.

four long, repeat from *.

RUSTIC ORNAMENTS.

PICTURE-FRAME OF OAK LEAVES AND ACORN8.

Every autumn we have delightful summer- sizes. While you are looking about for some like days, when a ramble over the hills or in the of the best of these, you will find a variety of woods affords much enjoyment to those who acorns also. Press the leaves, and dry the admire the beauties of nature, or can appreciate acorns, and you have materials for a picturefresh air and healthy exercise. Another induce- frame. They should be fastened to the frame ment for young ladies to go on these rural with glue. If you make an oval frame, arrange walks is that much can be found that may be them in form of a wreath. If a square shape, manufactured into ornaments for our homes. have it smooth and stained before putting Then make it the aim of these pleasant, health-them on. giving rambles to gather autumn-leaves, acorns, Commence by placing a small sized leaf rather cones, and mosses of all varieties, and beautify more than a third of the length of the side your homes with ornaments which are none the from the corner; then two more on to each side less beautiful for being your own handiwork. of that; lay a small acorn on the first leaf, the

When the leaves are falling from the trees point toward the point of the leaf, and the stem in the month of October, go into the woods under the two others; then two or three larger where there are large oaks, and among others acorns, two or three more leaves, and so on.

scattered around your feet you will put a group of the largest acorns at the corsee perfectly fair and smooth oak-leaves, of a ners, and fill in around them with small-sized pretty brown colour, and of various forms and leaves.

that are

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