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Korkma-fear not : Goet. Sadik, you are a divanè — an idiot. Oghour ohaHeaven speed you. Mashallah! in the name of the Prophet—may the kavashlir — the city police the sons of burnt fathers, be roasted in Jehanum. I laugh at them; I spit upon their beards! Alhemdullilahpraise be to Allah !—here is another. Hist, Allah Kerim, I have it. But what is yonder figure? It is a woman veiled in her yashmac! Come on, sons of burnt mothers, come on!'

The whole troop accordingly advanced towards the unfortunate female, who in vain attempted to escape.

"Guzum!my eyes ! said one, : is your humour good ? Art thou not the daughter of a Peri, born of a sunbeam ? '

«Khosh geldin--you are welcome,' said a second. •Janum-my soul-dark-eyed art thou as the gazelle, graceful as the fawn !',

Gen ektiar der — you are the lord,' said the woman ; • let me find favour before my lord. Hinder not my path, or else badluk tomy toze, I shall suffer the bastinado on my return to my lord's haram !'

«« Yavash, yavash — softly, softly. What dirt is this that thou wouldest give me to eat ? Am I a cow, and the mother of cows? This is much. Thou goest no further to-night: I have said it.'

“Ho!' said the woman, raising her voice, in the name of Allah, help! help!

To Ne var ?—what is this?'.

“ It was but the work of a moment with the young stranger to rush into the midst of them. He seized a scimitar from the side of one, and quick as thought three lay bleeding at his feet. The rest, after a feeble resistance, took to fight. The woman had sunk, almost lifeless with affright, to the ground. From her swoon she was recovered by the care of the young Frank.

" This is much. Let my lord fly, or he is lost.'

«« Nay, maiden, I am not used to fly, said he, as he lifted his eagle glance up to heaven. Moreover, had I the will, I know not where to go; for I am a stranger in Stamboul, and have scarce landed an hour upon the shore.'

“Mashallah !Come, then, quickly with me, or the kavashlar will be upon us, and you will be cut down without inquiry.'

“ The stranger had beheld one summary instance of Turkish justice, which, despite his chivalric notions, gave him an uncomfortable feeling about the neck, and so followed her without farther remark. He accordingly endeavoured to keep close after her, as she sped swiftly through dark streets and by-ways, catching occasional glances of the Bosphorus, as it lay peacefully between the myriad lamps of the blessed city, sleeping as an infant watched by the doting eyes of its fond parent. She paused at last beneath the stately portal of a magnificent mansion, motioning him to follow.

«« Tchabouk, Ichabouk!-quick, quick! Follow me.'

“ He entered accordingly, and found himself in almost total darkness, which was only partly dispelled by the uncertain light of a flickering lamp, — an emblem of a true believer struggling with affliction.

6. Khosh geldin ! — you are welcome!' said she. We are now safe from without; but greater perils wait us from within, unless my lord will be guided by his servant.'

W

“ • Ay, maiden, even as you will; but let me gaze, if but for a moment, upon the beauteous face of her whom I have saved.'

«• Disappointment awaits you, stranger. I am but a slave. The blood of my fathers flows richly in my veins. I was born beneath the meridian sun.' So saying, she raised her yashmac, and disclosed to him the features of a negress.

«• Hum!” said he, somewhat coldly.

«« Nay, kipyar tempar-be not angry; you shall have no cause to regret your exertions in my behalf. In this palace is immured, like an imprisoned singing bird, like a rose of Shadustan plucked from its native stalk, the beauteous wife of an aga. My lord shall behold her, and to behold her is to love ; but you must divest yourself of these garments, and put on the dress which the maidens of the haram are ever wont to wear, lest you should feed the fishes of the Bosphorus.'

“Ha! Love, saidst thou ? No_this withered heart can never love again ; but to the fishes of the Bosphorus I would not, willingly at least, become a prey. But I like not this change of dress. I am a man, as my fathers were, and would not put on a woman's weeds. Moreover, when didst thou ever look upon a maiden with hair upon her cheeks and lips? Answer me this.'

«« Nay, gurum—my eyes—what are these? They are bosh-nothing--the growth, let me see, of three weeks at farthest.'

"Woman, my arm shall protect my life as it best may; but my whiskers are irrevocable.'

" Janum—my soul-behold thy features in this anah-this mirror. See if ever fairer maid than thou wilt appear has listened to her praises beneath the umbrageous myrtle and the delicate safsaf. Nay, I promise thee thou shalt soon become the queen of the haram.'

"Ah! you Aatter me, woman,' said the dark-eyed youth, taking a glance at his features in the small mirror. Well, well, for once be it as you will.'

“ The crafty negress quickly took advantage of his 'consent, and before long his cheeks were as smooth as the polished ivory of Zemzem.

“Now, quickly bind this calemkier—this painted handkerchiefround thy brow. Ajaib! - wonderful! -- The sun and moon have left the sky, and now peer forth from under that calemkier. Bismillah! bulbul of the world! let me tinge that stately brow with the aromatic henna. Allah is great. These trowsersnay, my lord -Shekiur Allah!-Heaven be praised !--they are on. A slight rent --Y'Allah!we are undone ! - paiva der — they are animals. The petticoat will conceal the mischief. Bakalum --we shall see. Belli, belli ! - yes, yes! Now this jacket, its hue was caught from the azure sky--the cymar seems but dusky upon the bosom of my lord, although white as the snow of Mistop. Oghour oha! Heaven speed you! These slippers, and it is done. What a houri is this!' Lovely indeed did the feigned maiden appear, graceful as the willow, gentle as the moon of the evening sky. Not even the eyes of the guardian of the haram, the son of Sheitan, — may his grave be defiled! - could pierce that disguise. I will say that thou art a massauldjhee — a story-teller from the islands. Bashustan - on my head be it. But does my lord know of any tale such as may suit a lady's ear?'

Ay, woman ; in my youth I have read a work called the Arabian Nights, a book which contains many a tale of Haroun Alreschid and his Wezeer.

Allah buyek der — Allah is great,' said the attendant; it is well. We will call thee Shimsa - Gillyflower. Let us lose no time. Follow me, and take this zebek in thy hand.

“ She opened a small door, and, bidding him follow in her footsteps, passed swiftly through a long corridor, and tapped against the door of an apartment.

«Kaumin-enter,' said a gruff voice. "Who is this at this hour? I will blacken her mother's face;'.

«« Salam aleikum-God save you !--my mother's face was black as the ebony of Tehran, even as mine is.

Ouf, ouf-peace, peace! haremzadeh_ill-born. What dost thou want?—the bastinado?-and who is this?'

«•It is a mussauldjhee from the isles, whom our mistress, Popeti, sent me for. Bah-see— I have brought her.'

“«Curses on you ! do you dare to pour out words before me? Is not my foot upon your head? But now pass on.'

« Taking him at his word, they left the apartment by another door ; and traversing a small passage, the slave lifted a dark curtain, and they entered.”

Now, good people, in the present traverse between Olinthus Jenkinson and Christopher North, you shall tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Were not his words the words of Sheitan, and his thoughts the thoughts of the Evil One? Speak.

“ Under which, King Bezonian, speak, or die!”

THE DEAD BIRD.

Oh! do not bid me check my tears,

They are the first I've shed.
Before this hour my happy years

Have never mourn'd the dead !
My father-mother-sisters— friends

Are all around me yet.
I prize the mercy Heaven sends-
But still I can't forget

My poor dead bird !
He was so tame, so fond, so true,

And loved my voice so well,
That at my slightest word he flew

His little joy to tell.
I know there are some dearer ties,

That may be broken yet;
But, vain as are my tears and sighs,
I feel I can't forget

My poor dead bird!

J. A. Wade.

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CHAPTER 11.
Spalpeen proceeds on his way home.Entertained on the borders of Kilkenny by
Larry Corbett, the herdsman.-Hospitality of the Irish.

The day was beautiful, though the season was pretty far ad-
vanced, for it was late in autumn. One more parting look at the
farmer's house, one more caress of the farmer's dogs as he bid them
“ go back!"- another sigh, to think that three years' faithful ser-
vices should have been thus requited, and in a state of doubt and
sorrowful perplexity, but vain regret, Connor darted into the road
by which he had arrived, and commenced his journey homeward
with but a few shillings more in his pocket than he bad brought.

- Am I always to be out of luck ? ” cried he. “How am I to face the wife and the children with the trifle I have about me?" and pulling out his hoard, he found that six shillings, two sixpences, and a few pennies and halfpennies, formed his entire stock. “Well,” continued Connor to himself, “ it's a blessed thing that I'm out of that house alive and well, at any rate. Who knows but worse might have been intended ? And yet, for the matter of that who ever saw James Fitzpatrick wrong anybody? Who ever heard him telling a lie, or playing false with a friend? I'm not up to this business at all at all, -it beats me out entirely. And sure I may go back again, if I like it-wasn't that the way of him? Faix ! and I know right well what Nelly would say to that,-and even young Jemmy, if the boy has a grain of sense in his head. No-I shall be laughed at enough as it is, without trying my luck again in Leinster. The neighbours will think me a fool, or a rogue perhaps,—that I've buried my earnings. Well, I must just make the best of my bargain, now, at any rate.”

With these, and many similar reflections, Connor pursued his journey, now and then retarding his steps, and then hurrying on, as his impatient starts and apostrophes overpowered his ideas.

He was now approaching the borders of Kilkenny, and being well acquainted with an honest herdsman, whose name was Larry Corbett, and who lived within a few perches of the high road, he stepped into his cabin just as the evening was closing in, and was kindly welcomed for the night. Lighting his pipe, and sitting down by the fire, his cares seemed alleviated, or to be gradually dissipating in smoke, like the fumes of his tobacco.

And here I may remark (or rather ratify the remarks of many others), that hospitality is seldom wanting in this land, so often tra. duced by its adversaries. The forlornwanderer is rarely denied admittance to a cabin, however humble ; while the friend is received with open arms, and with a welcome more than equal to the means frequently possessed by its poor inmates to fulfil. Paddy has a soul, a grace, an earnestness about him upon these occasions, which might do honour to a palace.

CHAPTER 111.

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Travelling without money proved advisable.- Pedlars : a dangerous business.

Tipperary quickly traversed without broken bones (fortunate).-Sable glimpse of the county of Limerick. Night adventure. Return of Spalpeen. Striking ar. gument against whiskers.

OUR honest spalpeen having exchanged the courtesies of his pipe frequently with the herdsman, and given and received an overflowing budget of news, laid himself down to sleep, and with early dawn recommenced his journey. To those unacquainted with Ireland, it may appear singular with what expedition great distances are performed on foot by people of this description,-nay, even by little boys, or “ gossoons,” who have been known to keep up a sort of trot thirty-five miles in the course of a day. One night more Connor would be obliged to seek a hospitable shelter and fireside; but the third would bring him to his own lowly cabin, once more to be reunited to his wife and children. Happy fellow ! he had become more reconciled to his fate; his limbs were hardy and active, and onwards he bounded with hasty strides. No wonder, therefore, that ere he had gone many miles he should overtake two travelling pedlars, the weight of whose heavy packs prevented their walking so quickly as himself. Connor, however, was too social a being to pass them by; moreover, he soon found that they were merry fellows, well stocked with as large an assortment of news as wares ; that they were young men from Dublin, making their first trial at this business, in which they had been very successful, having visited Carlow and Kilkenny, and were now preparing to dazzle the eyes of men and maidens in Tipperary. Their company, therefore, was highly agreeable ; but when they spoke of their polished knives and scissors, bobbins, tape, and muslin, his heart was saddened as he thought of the small pittance he had left. As his boy Jemmy, however, was a tolerable penman, he selected a sharp sixpenny knife for his use, and a pair of scissors for Nelly, which he put carefully by.

The town of Thurles was then distant from them about ten miles, when, arriving at a particular turn of the road, one pedlar said to the other,

“Here we are, faith! at the very place described by the men at the inn where we slept. This must be the oak tree, and that the gate, and yonder the footpath.”

“ By dad! the very thing,” replied the other. « They were mighty dacent boys entirely, to save us three miles of a short cut to the town.”

Connor, who was as willing to save time and shoe-leather as any man, was on the point of following them over a stile, when suddenly thinking of the farmer's maxims, and pausing, he repeated to himself the first piece of advice.

"As you travel homeward, never step out of the common road, nor attempt to make any short cuts, or cross any fields by way of lessening your distance."

He therefore excused himself to the two pedlars, and went on upon the beaten road.

Nothing remarkable happened until he had nearly reached the town, when, sitting upon a bank, wringing their hands in despair, who should he see but his two late fellow-travellers.

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