who seemed by no means flattered. “We "We divide the province, as in the almanac, into circuits, in each of which we separately carry on our business of manufacturing and selling clocks. There are few, I guess," said the clockmaker, "who "who go upon tick as much as we do who have so little use for lawyers; if attorneys could wind a man up again after he has been fairly run down, I guess they'd be a pretty harmless sort of folks." This explanation restored my good-humor, and, as I could not quit my companion and he did not feel disposed to leave me, I made up my mind to travel with him to Fort Lawrence, the limit of his circuit. JUDGE THOMAS CHANDLER HALIBURTON. MRS. MAYTON INTERVIEWED. TH HE course of Budge's interview with Mrs. Mayton was related by that lady as follows: She was sitting in her own room (which was on the parlor floor and in the rear of the house), and was leisurely reading Fated to be Free, when she accidentally dropped her glasses. Stooping to pick them up, she became aware that she was not alone. A small, very dirty, but good-featured boy stood before her, his hands behind his back and an inquiring look in his eyes. Run away, little boy," said she. "Don't you know it isn't polite to enter rooms with out knocking?" or me," said the old lady, a little severely. "I don't know anything about little boys' uncles. Now, run away, and don't disturb me any more." "Well," continued Budge, "they said your little girl went with him and you'd know when she would come back." "I haven't any little girl," said the old lady, her indignation at a supposed joke threatening to overcome her dignity. "Now, go away." "She isn't a very little girl," said Budge, honestly anxious to conciliate—“ that is, she's bigger'n I am-but they said you was her mother, an' so she's your little girl, isn't she? I think she's lovely, too." "Do you mean Miss Mayton?" asked the lady, thinking she had a possible clue to the cause of Budge's anxiety. "Oh yes; that's her name. I couldn't think of it," eagerly replied Budge. "An' ain't she awful nice? I know she is." "Your judgment is quite correct, considering your age," said Mrs. Mayton, exhibiting more interest in Budge than she had heretofore done. "But what makes you think she is nice? You are rather younger than her male admirers usually are.” "Why, my uncle Harry told me so," replied Budge, "an' he knows everything." Mrs Mayton grew vigilant at once, and dropped her book: "An' he rides with just the loveliest lady that ever was. He thinks so, an' I know she is. An' he 'spects her." "What?" exclaimed the old lady. "'Spects her, I say; that's what he says. I say 'spect means just what I call 'love.' 'Cos if it don't, what makes him give her hugs an' kisses ?" Mrs. Mayton caught her breath, and did not reply for a moment. At last she said, How do you know he gives her hugs and kisses?" "'Cos I saw him the day Toddie hurt his finger in the grass-cutter. An' he was so happy that he bought me a goat-carriage next morning; I'll show it to you if you come down to our stable, an' I'll show you the goat too. An' he bought-" Just here Budge stopped, for Mrs. Mayton put her handkerchief to her eyes. Two or three moments later she felt a light touch on her knee, and, wiping her eyes, saw Budge looking sympathetically into her face. Well, you needn't be," said Budge, 'for Uncle Harry's awful careful an' smart. "He ought to be ashamed of himself," exclaimed the lady. "I guess he is, then," said Budge, "'cos he's everything he ought to be. He's awful careful. T'other day, when the goat ran away, an' Toddie an' me got in the carriage with them, he held on to her tight, so she couldn't fall out." Mrs. Mayton brought her foot down with a violent stamp. 'They ain't no nonsense at all," said Budge. "I don't think it's right for to say that, when his stories are always about Joseph, an' Abraham, an' Moses, an' when Jesus was a little boy, an' the Hebrew children, an' lots of people that the Lord loved. An' he's awful 'fectionate, too." "Yes, I suppose so," said Mrs. Mayton. "When we says our prayers, we prays for the nice lady what he 'spects, an' he likes us to do it," continued Budge. "How do you know?" demanded Mrs. Mayton. "'Cos he always kisses us when we do it, an' that's what my papa does when he likes what we pray." Mrs. Mayton's mind became absorbed in earnest thought, but Budge had not said all that was in his heart: "An' when Toddie or me tumbles down an' hurts ourselves, 'tain't no matter what Uncle Harry's doin', he runs right out an' picks us up an' comforts us. He frowed away a cigar the other day, he was in such a hurry when a wasp stung me, an' Toddie picked the cigar up an' ate it, an' it made him awful sick." The last-named incident did not affect Mrs. Mayton deeply-perhaps on the score of inapplicability to the question before her. Budge went on: "An' wasn't he good to me to-day? Just 'cos I was forlorn 'cos I hadn't nobody to play with, an' wanted to die an' go to heaven, he stopped shavin', so as to comfort me." Mrs. Mayton had been thinking rapidly and seriously, and her heart had relented. somewhat to the principal offender. "Suppose," said she, “that I don't let my little girl go riding with him any more?" Then," said Budge, "I know he'll be awful, awful unhappy; an' I'll be awful sorry for him, 'cos nice folks oughtn't to be made unhappy." "Suppose, then, that I do let her go, said Mrs. Mayton. "Then I'll give you thousands of kisses for being so good to my uncle," said Budge; and, assuming that the latter course would be the one adopted by Mrs. Mayton, Budge climbed into her lap and began at once to make payment. "Bless your dear little heart!" exclaimed Mrs. Mayton; "you're of the same blood, and it is good, if it is rather hasty." JOHN HABBERTON. Few flickering lamps broke in upon the gloom; Rushes fresh plucked were strewed upon the floor, And dogs whipt out could rush beneath the door. Fair dames were seen in ermined robes to freeze; No stoves dispersed a mitigated breeze; The cow'ring bloodhounds crouched beneath their feet, And hawks together nestling kept their seat, Whilst the old harper, now grown hoarse and hoary, Sang the old song that told his patron's glory. From unwashed mouths that took a lingering sup To maiden lips was passed the undainty cup; Menials on either side, an ill-trained pack, Drained the strong ale from out the huge black jack. Rude as the times they lived in, and unfit |