362 THE CAVE OF SILVER. ing it from them. But I believe that all the trying in the world to benefit a child, and all the substantial favors you can do them, will never excite one emotion of gratitude while that feeling of repugnance remains in the heart-it's a queer kind of a fact-but so it is." "I don't know how I can help it," said Miss Ophelia; "they are disagreeable to me-this child in particular-how can I help feeling so?" "Eva does, it seems." "Well, she is so loving! After all though, she's no more than Christlike," said Miss Ophelia; "I wish I were like her. She might teach me a lesson." "It wouldn't be the first time a little child has been used to instruct an old disciple, if it were so," said St. Clare. LORD DUNDREARY AT BRIGHTON. Bring me no skins of foxes; Bring me no beds of eider; That fish in the northern sea; Rena, the witch, hath told me That up in the wild Lapp moun tains There lieth a cave of silver, Down deep in a valley-side; So gather your lance and rifle, And speed to the purple pastures, And seek ye the cave of silver As you seek me for your bride. I go said Brok, right proudly; So long as my life shall hold; But when the keen Lapp arrows Are fleshed in the heart that loves you, I'll leave my curse on the woman But Ilda laughed as she shifted The Summer passed, and the Winter And Ilda waited and waited, And sat at the door till sunset, 363 O far beyond caves of silver I pine for my Brok the Bold! But the brave Norwegian gallants Till her heart and her face grew old; LORD DUNDREARY AT BRIGHTON. WIGHTON is filling fast now. You see dwoves of ladies evewy day on horseback, widing about in all diwections. By the way, I-I muthn't forget to mention that I met those two girls that always laugh when they thee me, at a tea-fight. One of 'em-the young one -told me, when I was intwoduced to her,-in-in confidence, mind,that she had often heard of me and of my widdles. Tho you thee I'm getting quite a weputathun that way. The other morning at Mutton's, she wath ch-chaffing me again, and begging me to tell her the latetht thing in widdles. Now I hadn't heard any mythelf for thome time, tho I couldn't give her any vewy great novelty, but a fwiend of mine made one latht theason which I thought wather neat, tho I athked her, When ith a jar not a jar? Thingularly enough, the moment she heard thith widdle she burtht out laughing behind her pocket handkerchief! "Good gwacious! what'th the matter?" said I. "Have you ever heard it before?" "Never," she said, "in that form; do please tell me the answer." So I told her,—When it ith a door! Upon which she-she went off again into hystewics. I-I-I-never did see such a girl for laughing. I know it's a good widdle, but I didn't think it would have such an effect as that. it was: By the way, Sloper told me afterwards that he thought he had heard. the widdle before, somewhere, but it was put in a different way. He said When ith a door not a door?—and the answer, When it ith ajar! I—I've been thinking over the matter lately, and though I dare thay it -d-don't much matter which way the question is put, still-pwaps the last f-form is the betht. It-it seems to me to wead better. What do you think? Now I weckomember, I made thuch a jolly widdle the other day on the Ethplanade. I thaw a fellah with a big New-Newfoundland dog, and he inthpired me-the dog, you know, not the fellah,-he wath lunatic. I'm keeping the widdle but I don't mind telling you. Why does a dog waggle his tail? will give that up! Give it up? I think motht fellahs You thee the dog waggles his tail becauth the dog's stwonger than the tail. If he wathn't the tail would waggle the dog! Ye-eth, that'th what I call a widdle. If I can only wecollect him, I shall athtonish those two girls thome of these days. THE EAGLE H TENNYSON. E clasps the crag with hooked hands, The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls: |
