grey rock. They now turned, and saw the old man (who had waited till they had gone the whole way) suddenly bend the stubborn yew, and fix an arrow on the string. In an instant it was strongly drawn to his very ear, and the feathered shaft, of a cloth-breadth length, was fiercely launched in air. "M'Alp-hooch!" cried the young chief, meaning to raise the M'Gregor war-cry, clapping his hand on his breast as he fell. "Ha!" cried Calum Dhu, for it was he himself; "clap your hand behin'; the arm shot that that never sent arrow that came out where it went in ;"-a rhyme he used in battle, when his foes fell as fast as he could fix arrows to the bow-string. The two M'Gregors hesitated a moment whether to rush down and cut to atoms the old man who had so suddenly caused the death of their beloved young chief; but seeing him fix another arrow to his bow, of which they had just seen the terrible effects, and fearing they might be prevented from carrying the news of his son's death to their old chieftain, and thus cheat him of his revenge, they started over the hill like roes. But a speedy messenger was after them; an arrow caught Evan as he descended out of sight over the hill; sent with powerful and unerring aim, it transfixed him in the shoulder. It must have grazed the bent that grew on the hill top to catch him, as only his shoulders could be seen from where Calum Dhu stood. On flew the other M'Gregor with little abatement of speed, till he reached his chieftain with the bloody tidings of his son's death. "Raise the clan!" was Black John's first words; "dearly shall they rue it." A party was soon gathered. Breathing all the vengeance of mountain warriors, they were soon far on their way of fierce retaliation, with Black John at their head. Calum Dhu was in the meantime not idle; knowing, from the escape of one of the three M'Gregors, that a battle must quickly ensue, he collected as many of his clansmen as he could, and taking his terrible bow, which he could so bravely use, calmly waited the approach of the M'Gregors, who did not conceal their coming, for loud and fiercely their pipes flung their notes of war and defiance on the gale as they approached and mountain cliff and glen echoed far and wide the martial strains. They arrived, and a desperate struggle immediately commenced. The McGregors carried all before them no warriors of this time could withstand the hurricane onset, sword in hand, of the far-feared, warlike M'Gregors. Black John raged through the field like a chafed lion, roaring in a voice of thunder, heard far above the clash, groans, and yells of the unyielding combatants-" where was the murderer of his son ?" None could tell him-none was afforded time, for he cut down, in his headlong rage, every foe he met. At length, when but few of his foes remained, on whom he could wreak his wrath, or exercise his great strength, he spied an old man sitting on a ferny bank, holding the stump of his leg, which had been cut off in the battle, and who beckoned the grim chief to come nearer. Black John rushed forward, brandishing his bloody sword, crying, in a voice which startled the yet remaining birds from the neighboring mountain cliffs,-"Where is my son's murderer ?" "Shake the leg out o' that brogue," said the old man, speaking with difficulty, and squeezing his bleeding stump with both hands, with all the energy of pain, "and bring me some o' the water frae yon burn to drink, and I will show you Calum Dhu, for he is yet in the field, and lives: rin, for my heart burns and faints." Black John, without speaking, shook the leg out of the brogue, and hasted to bring water, to get the wished for intelligence. Stooping to dip the bloody brogue in the little stream, " M'Alp-hooch!” he cried, and splashed lifeless in the water, which in a moment ran thick with his blood. "Ha!" cried Calum Dhu, for it was he again; "clap your hand behin'; that's the last arrow shot by the arm that sent those which came not out where they went in." THE VICTIM BRIDE. I SAW her in her summer bow'r, and oh! upon my sight Or like those forms we meet in dreams from which we wake, and weep Her parent-loved he not his child above all earthly things! I saw them through the church-yard pass, but such a nuptial train The priest beheld the bridal group before the altar stand, And sigh'd as he drew forth his book with slow reluctant hand : He saw the bride's flow'r-wreathed hair, and mark'd her streaming eyes, And when he called on Abraham's God to bless the wedded pair, It seem'd a very mockery to breathe so vain a pray'r. I saw the palsied bridegroom too, in youth's gay ensigns drest; A shroud were fitter garment far for him than bridal vest; I mark'd him when the ring was claim'd, 'twas hard to loose his hold, He held it with a miser's clutch-it was his darling gold. His shrivell'd hand was wet with tears she pour'd, alas! in vain, I've seen her since that fatal morn-her golden fetters rest HANNAH BINT. BY MISS MARY RUSSELL MITFORD. THE Shaw, leading to Hannah Bint's habitation, is a very pretty mixture of wood and coppice; that is to say, a track of thirty or forty acres covered with fine growing timber-ash, and oak, and elm-very regularly planted; and interspersed here and there with large patches of underwood, hazel, maple, birch, holly, and hawthorn, woven into almost impenetrable thickets by long wreaths of the bramble, the briary, and the briar-rose, or by the pliant and twisting garlands of the Heart-shaped and triply folded, and its root though the grain be ripening, the beautiful buck-wheat, of which the transparent leaves and stalks are so brightly tinged with vermilion, while the delicate pink-white of the flower, a paler persicaria, has a feathery fall, at once so rich and so graceful, and a fresh and reviving odor, like that of beech trees in the dew of a May evening. The bank that surmounts this attempt at cultivation is crowned with the late foxglove and the stately mullein; the pasture of which so great a part of the waste consists, looks as green as an emerald; a clear pond, with the bright sky reflected in it, lets light into the picture; the white cottage of the keeper peeps from the opposite coppice; and the vine-covered dwelling of Hannah Bint rises from amidst the pretty garden, which lies bathed in the sunshine around it. The living and moving accessories are all in keeping with the cheerfulness and repose of the landscape. Hannah's cow grazing quietly beside the keeper's pony; a brace of fat pointer puppies holding amicable intercourse with a litter of young pigs; ducks, geese, cocks, hens, and chickens, scattered over the yard; Hannah herself sallying forth from the cottagedoor, with her milk-bucket in her hand, and her little brother following with the milking stool. My friend, Hannah Bint, is by no means an ordinary person. Her father, Jack Bint, (for in all his life he never arrived at the dignity of being called John; indeed, in our parts, he was commonly known by the cognoA sudden turn round one of these men of London Jack,) was a drover magnificent beeches brings us to the of high repute in his profession. No boundary of the Shaw, and leaning man, between Salisbury Plain and upon a rude gate, we look over an open Smithfield, was thought to conduct a space of about ten acres of ground, still flock of sheep so skilfully through all more varied and broken than that the difficulties of lanes and commons, which we have passed, and surrounded streets and high-roads, as Jack Bint, on all sides by thick woodland. As a and Jack Bint's famous dog, Watch; piece of color, nothing can be well for Watch's rough, honest face, black, finer. The ruddy glow of the heath- with a little white about the muzzle, flower, contrasting, on the one hand, and one white ear, was as well known with the golden-blossomed furze-on at fairs and markets, as his master's the other, with a patch of buck-wheat, equally honest and weather-beaten of which the bloom is not past, al- visage. Lucky was the dealer that could secure their services; Watch being renowned for keeping a flock together, better than any shepherd's dog on the road-Jack, for delivering them more punctually, and in better condition. No man had a more thorough knowledge of the proper night stations, where good feed might be procured for his charge, and good liquor for Watch and himself; Watch, like other sheep dogs, being accustomed to live chiefly on bread and beer. His master, although not averse to a pot of good double X, preferred gin; and they who plod slowly along, through wet and weary ways, in frost and in fog, have undoubtedly a stronger temptation to indulge in that cordial and reviving stimulus, than we waterdrinkers, sitting in warm and comfortable rooms, can readily imagine. For certain, our drover could never resist the gentle seduction of the ginbottle, and being of a free, merry, jovial temperament, one of those persons commonly called good fellows, who like to see others happy in the same way with themselves, he was apt to circulate it at his own expense, to the great improvement of his popularity, and the great detriment of his finances. All this did vastly well whilst his earnings continued proportionate to his spendings, and the little family at home were comfortably supported by his industry but when a rheumatic fever came on, one hard winter, and finally settled in his limbs, reducing the most active and hardy man in the parish to the state of a confirmed cripple, then his reckless improvidence stared him in the face; and poor Jack, a thoughtless, but kind creature, and a most affectionate father, looked at his three motherless children with the acute misery of a parent, who has brought those whom he loves best in the world, to abject destitution. He found help, where he probably least expected it, in the sense and spirit of his young daughter, a girl of twelve years old. Hannah was the eldest of the family, and had, ever since her mother's death, which event had occurred two or three years before, been accustomed to take the direction of their domestic concerns, to manage her two brothers, to feed the pigs and the poultry, and to keep house during the almost constant absence of her father. She was a quick, clever lass, of a high spirit, a firm temper, some pride, and a horror of accepting parochial relief, which is every day becoming rarer amongst the peasantry; but which forms the surest safeguard to the sturdy independence of the English character. Our little damsel possessed this quality in perfection; and when her father talked of giving up their comfortable cottage, and removing to the workhouse, whilst she and her brothers must go to service, Hannah formed a bold resolution, and, without disturbing the sick man by any participation of her hopes and fears, proceeded, after settling their trifling affairs, to act at once on her own plans and designs. Careless of the future as the poor drover had seemed, he had yet kept clear of debt, and by subscribing constantly to a benefit club, had secured a pittance that might at least assist in supporting him during the long years of sickness and helplessness to which he was doomed to look forward. This his daughter knew. She knew, also, that the employer in whose service his health had suffered so severely, was a rich and liberal cattledealer in the neighborhood, who would willingly aid an old and faithful servant, and had, indeed, come forward with offers of money. To assistance from such a quarter Hannah had no objection. Farmer Oakley and the parish were quite distinct things. Of him, accordingly, she asked, not money, but something much more in his own way-" a cow! any cow! old or lame, or what not, so that it were a cow she would be bound to keep it well; if she did not, he might take it back again. She even hoped to pay for it by and by, by instalments, but that she would not promise!" and partly amused, partly interested by the child's earnestness, the wealthy poor Jack had pleased himself with yeoman gave her, not as a purchase, bringing home; the China tea-service, but as a present, a very fine young the gilded mugs, and the painted waiAlderney. She then went to the lord ters, for the more useful utensils of of the manor, and, with equal know- the dairy, and speedily established a ledge of character, begged his per- regular and gainful trade in milk, eggs, mission to keep her cow in the Shaw butter, honey, and poultry-for poulcommon. "Farmer Oakley had giv- try they had always kept. en her a fine Alderney, and she would be bound to pay the rent, and keep her father off the parish, if he would only let it graze on the waste;" and he, too, half from real good nature half, not to be outdone in liberality by his tenant, not only granted the requested permission, but reduced the rent so much, that the produce of the vine seldom fails to satisfy their kind landlord. Now, Hannah showed great tact in setting up as a dairy-woman. She could not have chosen an occupation more completely unoccupied, or more loudly called for. One of the most provoking of the petty difficulties which beset people with a small establishment, in this neighborhood, is the trouble, almost the impossibility, of procuring the pastoral luxuries of milk, eggs, and butter, which rank, unfortunately, amongst the indispensable necessaries of housekeeping. To your thorough-bred Londoner, who, whilst grumbling over his own breakfast, is apt to fancy that thick cream, and fresh butter, and newlaid eggs, grow, so to say, in the country-form an actual part of its natural produce-it may be some comfort to learn, that in this great grazing district, however the calves and the farmers may be the better for cows, nobody else is; that farmers' wives have ceased to keep poultry, and that we unlucky villagers sit down often to our first meal in a state of destitution, which may well make him content with his thin milk, and his Cambridge butter, when compared to our imputed pastoralities. Hannah's Alderney restored us to one rural privilege. Never was so cleanly a little milk-maid. She changed away some of the cottage finery, which, in his prosperous days, For the younger Her domestic management prospered equally. Her father, who retained the perfect use of his hands, began a manufacture of mats and baskets, which he constructed with great nicety and adroitness; the eldest boy, a sharp and clever lad, cut for him his rushes and oziers; erected, under his sister's directions, a shed for the cow, and enlarged and cultivated the garden (always with the good leave of her kind patron, the lord of the manor) until it became so ample, that the produce not only kept the pig, and half-kept the family, but afforded another branch of merchandize to the indefatigable directress of the establishment. boy, less quick and active, Hannah contrived to obtain an admission to the charity-school, where he made great progress-retaining him at home, however, in the haymaking, reaping, and leasing season, or whenever his services could be made available, to the great annoyance of the schoolmaster, whose favorite he is, and who piques himself so much on George's scholarship (your heavy sluggish boy at country work often turns out clever at his book), that it is the general opinion of the village, that this muchvaunted pupil will, in process of time, be promoted to the post of assistant, and may, possibly, in course of years, rise to the dignity of a parish pedagogue in his own person; so that his sister, although still making him useful at odd times, now considers George as pretty well off her hands, whilst his elder brother, Tom, could take an under-gardener's place directly, if he were not too important at home to be spared even for a day. In short, during the five years that she has ruled at the Shaw cottage, the world has gone well with Hannah |