A SPANISH LADY.

From a Picture by E. S. Newton, Esq.

SHE touched the silver strings, while her dark eye
Grew to more perfect beauty, when the sigh
Past from the chords sweet as it loved the hand
Ruling their music with such soft command.
At first the notes were tremulous, like the break
Of rising colour on her delicate cheek,

And varying, till at last their timid tone

Fixed on an ancient air; such ones are known
To the dove's nest, or to the olive wood,

Where hath the nightingale her solitude.

Her song found words—it was like "the sweet south," Breathing in odours from her rosebud mouth.

It was an old song, of love and sorrow made,

And sang so touchingly that it betrayed

Those sad deep thoughts which haunt a youthful heart By nature mournful.

AN ACTED CHARADE*.

BY MISS M. R. MITFORD.

Characters-LEXINGTON, HOLLIS, and HARLEY.

SCENE I.

LEXINGTON, alone, in the superb library of a large country house the shutters closed.

LEXINGTON.

SOH! here I am once again in the mansion of my forefathers, the mansion that should have been mine,—the mansion that shall be mine, if art, and skill, and boldness

* Perhaps it may not be wholly unnecessary to mention, that the fashionable amusement of acted charades resembles, but with greater intricacy, the well known French diversion of proverbs, of which last, by the way, a collection was published by no less a personage than Catherine of Russia. The whole little drama is literally a riddle of that species called a charade; consisting, in the present instance, of a word of two syllables, the first of which is to be gathered from the opening scene; the second from the next; and the third or whole from the concluding one. Having explained so far, we leave the solution to the ingenuity of the courteous reader. Guess! guess

can make it so. Where loiters this old dolt of a steward, whose honesty-so the phrase goes-'tis a fine word that honesty, but I can bear the sound-whose honesty I must put to the proof? Can he be watching over the corse of his dead master? No, no! there be other guess mourners for that work; men of black, who vend grief by the day, and tears by the hour,-who shut out the sun, and make a darkness and a silence as of midnight in the midst of the light and stirring world. Precious mockery! as if death were not still enough,- -as if the sunbeams could penetrate the leaden coffin, or the sound of laughter echo in the dead man's ear. If I should inherit as I will inherit this splendid property, of which I am the natural heir, then- -but I must read once more my trusty spy's letter, and make myself perfect in the part which I am to play. 'Tis no child's lesson.-[Takes out a letter and reads.]"There certainly was a will, written, signed, "and sealed last November, and placed in the charge of "old Hollis. Your only chance is to gain him, which, 'if the will be not delivered up to your cousin, I think possible. Every man has his price-”—[Looking up and speaking.]-Your's, Master John Solmes, has been a pretty stout one, as my pocket can witness.-[Then reading again.]" Every man has his price. Old Hollis "would probably be invulnerable to an actual offer of

money, however considerable the sum; yet no man is "likelier to yield to an artful mixture of flattery and in

M

"direct bribes. The points on which you must assail "him are"-[Continuing to look over the letter, and muttering rapidly to himself.]—" old affection-granddaughter Lucy-bitch Hebe-dog Hector-Hadley

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coursing meeting-Frimbleton Lea."—[Again reading connectedly.]—"These are the weak points of the citadel." -[Then speaking.]-Precious scoundrel !-unutterable coxcomb! But I must take his advice. Let me see "Brindled dog Hector-Hadley coursing meeting-granddaughter Lucy-little bitch Hebe"Frimbleton Lea farm-Hector-Hebe-Lucy-Hadley -Frimbleton-ay-Frimbleton Lea-Lea Farm." So, now I am perfect.

once more.

SCENE II.

Enter HOLLIS to LEXINGTON.

LEXINGTON.

Mr. Hollis? Yes, certainly Mr. Hollis. The many years that have passed since I saw you cannot chase from my recollection the person on whose knee I so often sate when a little child, and from whom I afterwards received so much kindness when a boy at school. You are well, I trust, my good friend?

HOLLIS.

As well, please your honour, as I can expect to be under so heavy an affliction. It is a sore trial to an old, servant to lose the master whom he has served for fifty years.

LEXINGTON.

And such a master! But you look hale and hearty; just as you looked twelve years ago, when we parted in this very room, as I was about to return to Westminster after the Christmas holidays. Little did either of us think then, Mr. Hollis, that twelve years would pass before we met again; still less that our next meeting would take place under circumstances so disastrous. But still it's a comfort to find one old friend looking so well. I love old friends, Mr. Hollis. Nothing like an old friend..

HOLLIS.

You are very good, sir. But John Solmes, when he told me you wished to speak to me in private, mentioned something of business

LEXINGTON.

A moment, Mr. Hollis. Sit down: I love to talk to an old friend. Nothing like old friends!-How is my pretty play-mate, Lucy, with her blue eyes and her golden hair? Lucy must be quite the belle of the village by this time.

HOLLIS.

Passable, sir. A good girl, but homely,―a very good girl. But this business

LEXINGTON.

I must renew my acquaintance with her. And your greyhounds? I find that you are still as famous for your breed as when we used to go out coursing together with