Come back! after all the trouble of getting them off -all the sewings, the givings, the contrivings; the complete outfit, as the villagers thought it, though Mrs. Crindle complained much of deficiencies and unhandsomenesses. There they were again. The authorities of the town of -, county of Cattaraugus, State of New York, had met, and concluded that they had subjects enough of their own; and that if they assisted the father, it belonged to others to look after the daughter; and, accordingly, ascertaining that she had a residence" at the West, they had despatched her and hers at once, under the care of a trusty person, back to the woods; demanding from our town not only traveling expenses, but physician's fees and sundry other charges, amounting to no inconsiderable sum, not to be raised without many words and sour looks, if it do not lead to a lawsuit between the two towns, one of which claims damages for "sending the said widow to be by it maintained," which the other refuses absolutely, avering that "the said widow went of her own free will and accord, without compulsion or advice of the town authorities, whereupon said town joins issue," &c. &c. The widow herself is meanwhile the most unconcerned person in the town. She declares that she had a delightful visit, and would n't have missed of it for any thing. The charitable," who contributed so readily to the outfit, feel a little sore; but all join in the laugh at the widow's triumph, and agree to hold themselves outwitted. THE LADY EVELINE. Ar the Virgin Mother's shrine Raymond's daughter wept not tears Such as village maiden's shed, When in agony they mourn O'er the loved and lowly dead; Stirring scenes had nerved her heart For a sterner, prouder part, And with every burning tear As the brave were wont to do, Backward, o'er her shoulder fair, "Virgin Mother, at thy feet (See Plate.) "Scarce an hour has glided by Since I saw my father die, Scarce is stilled the horrid shout That went thrilling through my brain, When his life-blood, ebbing out, Wet the moss-bank with its stain; "Still the angry foe is near In his haughty pride elate, And the hour is dark with fear To a maiden desolate : Mother, send some friendly aid, Noble heart, and steady blade, Armed by thee with strength and trust, "Till the craven bite the dust: Then the vow I humbly make Shall be kept for thy dear sake, And the knight who brings from thee Help and succour unto me, Shall claim from me due reward For the homage of his sword, |