avowal you may regard as premature, but it is at the same time sincere." "I beg Mr. Abram you will not thus humble yourself to me; rise, sir; the servants are liable to enter at any moment, and I would not have them discover you in that position, in my presence, for worlds." At the same instant she rose from her chair. 66 Say, before I rise, madam, that you will allow me a hearing, grant me I entreat you this request!" "If I must make such a promise to induce you to resume your chair, I do so; but you see yourself, sir, I am unwillingly compelled to do it."

Both the lady and gentleman resumed their seats, and Mr. Mark Abram immediately opened his campaign of words, consisting of persuasive reasons, and incontrovertible arguments, which he intended should glow with rhetorical eloquence, and highly spiced declamation. "Madam, in

calmness will you hear my proposals, and to save you the unnecessary pain of a lengthened interview, I will be concise. My love for you became too violent to be longer restrained, and remain pent up in the solitude of my own breast; therefore, have I sought this interview, to acquaint its object with its existence, and my lasting devotion."

"You forget, sir; my late husband has been dead scarcely seven months, and that circumstances, if the love you express for me is sincere, should have tempered your judgment to have chosen a more suitable time for its expression."

"Madam, will you not allow me to plead that such is, its unruly violence, that in its course, judgment is swept away and brings my unworthy self again imploringly to your feet." Suiting the action to the words, Mr. Abram with clasped hands, fell on one knee before the widow, assuming an attitude which must have severely taxed his patience to have so perfected.

On the widow's entreaty, he once more resumed a sitting posture, and begged from her an acknowledgement that she was not indifferent to him.

"You must be aware, Mr. Abram, that it is unbecoming in me, so lately a widow, to listen to overtures of such a nature, from anyone; but it is at your own earnest desire, that I confess I am not indifferent to you." "Thanks, adorable Laura, for those blessed words; a weight which pressed as heavily as a mountain upon my heart, I feel already taken off.

And may

I now hope that you will not maintain your state of widowhood, longer than custom shall pronounce necessary? only allow me to hope this!"

"From what I have already said, you may infer that I acquiesce in this request likewise," answered Mrs. Eastman.

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"Words fail to express the thankfulness I feel towards you, my loved one, for this kindness, but be assured that it is impressed in deep characters upon my heart." "I would recommend, for policy's sake, that our interview should now terminate; should it longer continue, it is liable to call forth remarks from the servants, which risk it will be more prudent to avoid." .. Yes, you reason rightly, Laura, although the acknowledgement be against my inclinations."

Mr. Mark Abram now left the widow alone, and retired to his bed-chamber, to indulge in happy thoughts on the success of his schemes. It is useless to detain the reader with an elaborate description of the progress of the loves of Mr. Abram, and widow Eastman, suffice it to remark, that about six months after the first disclosure of his passion, he led her to the altar, and she became his wedded wife. During that time he entirely broke off his connection with Miss Moggs, and when she became acquainted with her rival, she was not sparing in her epithets of uncompromising dislike towards her lost lover, and the widow Eastman.

CHAPTER VIII.

Beware of the Widows.

Grief for a long period weighed heavily upon the heart of Leo Myron, for the loss of his beloved mother. It first found relief in offering consolation to his sister Mary, who possessing not his strength of mind, betrayed the fullness of her sorrow. After a time, he continued the composition of his tale, which had been laid aside : and this occupation served, yet further, to restore composure to his mind. His work was soon completed, but he was far from being satisfied with his performance, although, his sister and father to whom he read it, were delighted with the characters he drew, and the interest of the story. Very many were the parts he determined to alter, and the remainder was to go through a laborious course of correction, and now that Mary was gone upon a long visit to a maiden aunt, who resided at Peterborough, and his father had left his cottage, and was gone to London, to pass some months with one or two old friends, he set about the task. His progress was necessarily slow as it involved copying, and re-copying, but he persevered with steadiness. As the chapters were concluded in their finished state, he lent the manuscript to Mrs. Eastman for her perusal. She bestowed many commendations upon Leo, and appeared to take an interest in the progress of the tale, but not such as she would doubtless have

shewn, had her thoughts not been principally engaged in another direction, her probable union with Mr. Mark Abram.

Leo completed his work shortly after the marriage of the widow to Abram, and he then became desirous of seeing it in print. The friends he consulted respecting its publication, judiciously advised him to let it appear in a Magazine, or Newspaper, as it would thereby obtain a more extensive circulation, than it would be likely to have, if published in a separate form. This proposal did not entirely coincide with the preconceived notions of the young author, and he offered to present the manuscript to a printer, provided he would undertake the risk of the publication. This proposal was declined with a recommendation to the same effect as that which had already been given him by his friends.

Leo at length agreed to this mode of publishing, and shortly after received an indirect offer from the editor of a Newspaper, to print it in his journal. The proposal was accepted, and the first instalment of the tale shortly after appeared. The criticisms it received were highly favorable, considering it was the first production of a young writer, and were such as to induce Leo to continue, with increased energy, his literary pursuits. We will now leave him for a short time paying devotion to the muses.

Mary Myron was, much against her own inclination, introduced by her aunt into gay society, she thinking by those means to divert the low and desponding thoughts, which had obtained such an influence over her niece, as to cause serious apprehensions for her health. Sara and Frances Bladen were her most constant companions, and whenever in their society, a peaceful serenity and happiness would take possession of her mind. At last, principally owing to their influence, she derived gratification from the company of mere acquaintances, and ultimately she recovered much of her former buoyancy of spirits.

Mary's aunt, Miss Hendon, about twelve months after the death of her sister, Mrs. Myron, was informed by letter from a London friend, that a rumour was current amongst the circle of acquaintances she (the friend) frequented, several of whom were personally known to Mr. Myron, that he was paying marked attention to a widow. The maiden lady exerted herself to procure a corroboration of this statement, which she succeeded in obtaining, and shortly afterwards, the additional information that he had made an offer to the widow, and had been accepted. Miss Hendon considered it became her duty to her dead sister's children, to prevent if possible Mr. Myron's

taking a second wife. She therefore wrote to Mr. Myron, acquainting him that such a rumour had reached her, and requiring that he would put her in a position to utter a denial of it, should it again be mentioned in her presence. She anxiously expected an answer to her letter, but weeks elapsed without her receiving one. This tended to confirm the truth of the report, and without further delay she made Leo acquainted with it. He immediately wrote to his father, enquiring as to its truth, and a few days brought him a confirmatory reply.

Mr. Myron was surprised, when he opened Miss Hendon's letter and read its contents. He was dressing to visit the widow at the time it was given into his hands. But it did not detain him many minutes from his purpose, and he set out for the widow's residence with it in his pocket. It was not more than a five minutes' walk, before he arrived at the abode of the lady. He rang the bell, and the door was immediately opened by a very fat servant girl, who ushered him upstairs into a small and neatly furnished drawing room. The widow herself shortly appeared, and after the first salutations, seated herself on a sofa beside Mr. Myron. Mrs. Vangir, that was the widow's name, was forty years of age, but from the youthfulness she displayed in her dress, and manners, would have past for a much younger woman. She was about the middle height, and her form was developed into the fullness of embonpoint. eyes were dark and had an animated expression, brown hair, and a slightly glowing complexion, which by the use of cosmetics, was of a warm peachy blush. She had been a widow nearly four years, when Mr. Myron first met her, her husband having died in the western part of Ireland, where he was travelling as a pedlar. some time before his death she had been separated from him, and during that period until his demise, had kept a small hotel in Walworth, which she then gave up and opened a Florist's Establishment at the West End, her present residence. When a landlady, she was considered gay, and her fair fame suffered in the opinion of many. It is certain that she used every endeavour to prevent Mr. Myron's becoming acquainted, during courtship, with her having been the landlady of an hotel, and she was successful in keeping it secret.

Her

For

caught sight of it in his hand; and she pressed closer to him.

Yes, love, its a letter I received this morning from Miss Hendon, you know who she is? my late wife's sister, enquiring if a rumour that has reached her be correct, but there, read it for yourself;" here Mr. Myron gave the letter into Mrs. Vangir's hands. She read it through attentively, during which she more than once bit her lip with vexation.

"Well, and what do you intend to do respecting it, dearest ?" enquired the lady, when she had perused its contents, I don't know indeed, Jane; I'll leave the matter for you to determine."

"And you will not regret trusting to my management, James, I should take no notice of it whatever." "And would you recommend this?"

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"To be sure I would, dear!" and she threw her arm affectionately around his neck." She will offer every opposition to your second marriage," continued the widow, considering it to be disadvanta geous to the interest of her sister's children, she would have you sacrifice your happiness to her family's aggrandizement. Can I not be a second mother to your children? have I no love to bestow? no, no, I have no more love to bestow, it is all given and centred in you, dear, but I have a mother's affections to give, and your children shall possess them for your sake." Here she pressed her lips on Mr. Myron's brow, and pillowed her head upon his shoulder. "I believe you, Jane, I know you will be a mother to my children, and they will be thankful that I give them such a mother."

the Rev. William Judd Upton, M.A. of New College, Oxford, is the rector.

This parish contains the important stations of the Northampton and Peterborough branch of the London and North Western, Great Eastern, and Syston and Peterborough Railways, and is bounded by the river Nene, which divides the two counties, and is navigable from Sutton wash, 30 miles eastward, and westward as far as Northampton. The area is 1,200 acres; the population in 1861 was 1,149. Letters arrive by foot post from Peterborough at 7 a. m.; despatched at 6.45. p. m.

THE CHURCH,

The reigns of Edward I. and II. were periods of great activity in church-building in the neighbourhood of Peterborough. In many churches in this locality the very same style-and in some, the very same hand-is apparent. Thus, for instance, the towers of Fletton, Stanground, and Paston; the nave arches of Fletton, Stanground, and Orton Longville; the geometric windows of Yaxley, Stanground, Castor, and Peterborough Cathedral; and generally the great prevalence of what has been called "net tracery" in windows, all indicated a close uniformity in the character and design of the work.

In this period too, a number of the then existing churches were enlarged, so that in many cases some care is requisite in making out the original plan. Norman churches are remarkably numerous, and in nearly all instances they seem to have had either a nave only, or a nave with a north aisle.

The church of Fletton is very picturesquely situated, among spreading cedars and ivied elms. Both in its architecture and its position it is a very beautiful object, to those at least who have an eye for the combined beauties of nature and art. The limits of the old church yard are not now definable on the north and the west, the rectory house and garden, occupying a portion of the original precinct. Though small, this is in part a very ancient edifice, dating from about the time of King Henry II. It appears to have had only a Norman nave and chancel, with a north aisle to both. These aisles remain, but one pillar and two arches have been removed towards the west, and a wide obtuse arch of early decorated date spans the vacant space. The capital of this pillar was carried to Stanground, and there it may be found at this day, inverted, at the north-west corner of the nave, where it forms the plinth or base to a decorated arch coeval with this.

The pillars are cylindrical, low, with shallow square capitals; the arches semi

circular, quite devoid of ornament. The chancel arch is equally plain, though pointed. Probably it has been altered from the original semi-circular form, for the purpose of gaining height. On the south-west side a capital of transitionNorman date indicates perhaps the period of the change. The arches of the chancel aisle (now used as a school-room) are similar, but the pillars are lighter than those of the nave. The south aisle of the nave has three wide depressed arches, on tall and slender octagonal shafts, with richly moulded capitals of early geometric character. The date of this part is determined by a corbel of a female head with the wimple (or chin cloth) of Edward I., seen from the south entrance above the aisle arch.

The south aisle has very good tripletlancet windows, trefoiled, under a common dripstone. These are perfect only at the east and west ends (one also west of the north aisle), those on the two sides having been cut down by lowering the aisles, the original pitch of which is indicated by the gable of the porch. This porch is small and low, and perhaps of rather later decorated work, including the wooden roof. The tower is a very good design of the geometric period, the true standard of proportion being here observed, of the spire being the same height as the tower itself. The broach-spire has the ballflower under the over-capping cornice or weather mould, and there are two tiers of spire-lights in the cardinal faces ["Broaches are the semi-pyramidal abutments at the base of a spire, where the square changes to the octagonal plan. They only occur in early spires. In this instance they extend to an unusual height, and give great effect to the general composition of the tower.]

The belfry windows are large but quite plain, of two lights, without cusps. The belfry arch has two plain sub-arches, continuous, and bold geometric cap-mouldings on semi-circular pillars. The tower is doubly buttressed on the west side, and has a good two-light trefoiled window. Under it stands the fragment of a Saxon cross, which perhaps stood in the churchyard. The sculptured animals upon it are much defaced, as are a few letters said to be "Randulph filius Wilielmi." The nave and chancel roofs have not been lowered. They are now ceiled within, and there is a low clerestory to the former of square twolight windows. The exterior of the chancel on the south and east sides displays much of the original Norman work. The Norman pilasters, string-courses, and corbel-table, with one of the blocked Norman lights, are yet perfect, but two decorated

two-light windows have been inserted in the south wall, and one of three lights in the eastern, all with the net-tracery. There is a narrow and low window, blocked with masonry, in the usual position, the southwest corner of the chancel. Some very curious and remarkably perfect sculptured stones are built into the Norman wall of this chancel. They contain small figures of saints with the nimbus, grotesque birdlike monsters, and various devices with the usual Runic interlacings of Saxon work. Without doubt the sculptures are about 1000 years old, and they seem (as the stone is of a different quality from the Barnack, of which the present church is built) to have been brought from a distance, or perhaps from the Saxon minster adjoining. At all events the style of the sculpture very closely resembles that on Abbot Hedda's monument, now preserved in Peterborough Cathedral.

The north aisle of the church does not certainly contain any of the original Norman masonry; but it has been tampered with at various times, and in part patched with brick. A doorway of decorated date is blocked with masonry. Within the chancel-aisle is a steep and narrow roodstaircase of stone. The lower portion of the rood-screen still remains. There are no vestiges of tombs, altars, piscinæ, or sedilia, or other objects of antiquarian interest. A few of the old open seats still exist at the west end, but they are of a poor and rather late character. The font is of doubtful date, octagonal, with fluted stem and sides. The pulpit is a pretty good one, about the date of James I., and has a good carving of the Annunciation beneath the sounding board. The vestry is eastward of the chantry on the north side. It is now disused, and the doorway from the chantry is blocked. A small decorated window on the north side is secured with the ancient iron bars. Within traces of the exterior Norman masonry of the chancel may be seen. There are three bells. One has the common legend "Omnia fiant ad gloriam Dei. 1640." Another, "William Wates made me, 1590." The third and smallest has the letters SPALLE at equal intervals round the F. A. PALEY.

crown.

ANECDOTES, &c.

Mrs. Sniggles.-I wish you would take me to Margate, my dear.

Mr. Sniggles. I had much rather not, my duck..

But why not, my love?

Because I don't choose it, my sweet.

Not choose it, my darling!

I can't afford it, my precious. Why not afford it, Mr. Sniggles. Because it is very expensive, Mrs. Sniggles.

Expensive! why there is neighbour Jenkins and his whole family there now,

man.

Neighbour Jenkins is a fool, and his wife no better than she should be, woman. I think, however, you need not abuse my friends, sir.

I shall not imitate the example of your friends, ma'am.

Then if you won't go, I will; that's poz, husband!

And if you go, you don't have one penny from me; that's poz, wife.

MIND HOW YOU SWILL YOUR BRICKS. At the Northampton Borough Petty Sessions, holden in the Town-hall, on Tuesday, the 9th of May last, Sarah Clarke was charged with assaulting Sarah Clues. This was an adjourned case. Mrs. Clarke, it appears, or rather Mrs. Clarke's boy, was swilling the bricks at her door, when the water, through some carelessness on the part of the swiller, swilled over the doorway of Mrs. Clues. Mrs. Clues went out to set matters straight, when Mrs. Clarke said her boy should swill her door for her if she liked, a politeness which Mrs. Clues declined, saying she could swill her own doorway. How these amicable preliminary protocols came to break out into a war of words did not clearly appear. Mrs. Clues appears, like the famous Mrs. Partington, to have swept back the invading tide from Mrs. Clarke's which Mrs. Clarke seems to have resented. Words were followed by a battle royal, of which the descriptions were as various as those of the historians of contests of world-wide celebrity. According to Mrs. Clues, Mrs. Clarke, brandishing her brush, made a furious onslaught, and brought the weapon down upon her arm with such force as to fracture its small bone, and to compel her to have recourse to the Infirmary, and, baring the wounded limb, she displayed it, all purple and yellow, like an unhealthy potatoe. Mr. Buszard, however, the house surgeon to the infirmary, said no bone was broken; the only injury was the bruise.-Mrs. Faulkner, a witness for the defence, and the loving sister of Mrs. Clarke, declared that that good lady did not do even that mischief. Whatever had happened to Mrs. Clues was done in a hand-to-hand struggle with herself when she flew to the rescue of her sister from Mrs. Clues' violence; and the brush head flew off, the contention was who should possess it. The narrative got at length so bewildered between the Clarkes and the Clues' and

their respective followings, that the magistrates said it was impossible to find any clue to the truth, and dismissed the case.

AN OLD GEM RE-SET.-Apropos of coroners, I went one night to see an actor more celebrated for his mises en scène than his own personations play Hamlet, his best character. I met Wakley in the stalls. "Holloa!" said I "what brings you here, old boy?" They are going to murder the divine William," said the coroner," and I am here to preside at the inquest." Not bad for a coroner.London Society.

Professor Porson was once asked the derivation of the word cucumber; and he derived it from King Jeremiah, thus: King Jeremiah-Jeremiah King-Jerry King-Gherkin-Cucumber!

There was once a pious Bishop-we hope there have been many such-who was considered a very witty facetious man, and it happened one day that a lady asked his permission to wear rouge. This lady was really half coquette and half devotee. "I can give you permission, Madam," said the Bishop, "but only for one cheek."

An arch wag once said, that tailors were like woodcocks, for they got their sustenance, by their long bills.

A false knave once received ten guineas for becoming a Roman Catholic, and when the priest paid him the cash, he said, "Sir, I think you ought to give me ten guineas more, for it is very stiff work to believe in Transubstantiation."

A gentleman once asked Doctor Johnson, why he hated the Scotch: "I do not hate them, Sir," said he," neither do I hate frogs, but I do not like to have them hopping about my chamber,"

An old bachelor, who resided in Acrelane, Brixton, in order to prevent itinerant traders annoying him, by knocking at his door to dispose of their wares, affixed to his knocker a label to this effect:-"The inhabitant of this house never buys anything at the door-Hawkers, beware!" He was dreadfully amazed shortly after by a loud knocking at his parlour window, from which he saw two fellows with clotheslines, mats, and pegs, to sell. Throwing up the sash in a violent rage, he accosted them thus:-" Can you read ?" yes, master," answered the hawker. "Then, don't you see a notice affixed to my knocker that I never buy anything at my door." "To be sure we do, so we thought we would make bold and try to do a little business at the parlour window." The fellow's wit pacified the old bachelor, who straightway made a purchase. Immediately afterwards, however he sent for a painter, and had the following addition made to his announcement:-" NOR AT THE WINDOW EITHER."

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