"I shall do nothing of the kind," said Lady Audley, her clear blue eyes flashing with indignation, "and I wonder at your impertinence in asking it." "Oh yes, you will though," answered Luke, with quiet insolence, that had a hidden meaning. "You'll make it a hundred, my lady."' Lady Audley rose from her seat, looked the man steadfastly in the face till his determined gaze sank under hers: then walking straight up to her maid, she said in a high, piercing voice, peculiar to her in moments of intense agitation, " Phoebe Marks, you have told this man!" The girl fell on her knees at my lady's feet. "Oh, forgive me, forgive me!" she cried. "He forced it from me, or I would never, never have told!" ATTORNEY SNEAK. [By ROBERT BUCHANAN.] Sharp, like a tyrant; timid, like a slave; Of course, you sent him packing? Dear, oh dear! Can pay his bills, and save a pound or two, And say his prayers on Sunday in a pew, I don't deny my origin was lowAll the more credit to myself, you know: Mother (I never saw her) was a tramp, Father half tramp, half pedlar, and whole scamp, A snappish mingling of the fool and knave, Resulting in the hybrid compound-Sneak, Who travell'd over England with a pack, Ah! how I managed, under stars so ill, wrong; At roadsides, when we stopp'd to rest and feed, At last, tired, sick, of wandering up and down, Hither I turn'd my thoughts,-to London town; Despairing, groaning, wretchedest of men, He came again! Ay, after wandering o'er The country as of old, he came once more. gave him money, off he went; and then, After a little year, he came again ; I Ay, came, and came, still ragged, bad, and poor, He tells the same old tale from year to year, Calls me ungrateful and unkind, then cries, -That's Badger, is it? He must go to Vere, The Bank of England clerk. The writ is here. Say, for his children's sake we will relent, If he'll renew at thirty-five per cent. R THE FOX'S TALE. ["From "Rory O'More." By SAMUEL LOVER.] ORY went to chapel; and thoughts of the expedition and hopes for his country mingled with his devotions, and a prayer for the safety of the friend from whom he had just parted rose sincerely from his heart. Mass being over, he returned to the Black Bull, where Finnegan was serving his customers. "I am come to ax you for something, Larry," said Rory. "I jist came to see if you're done with the crowbar I lint you some time agon, as I'm in want of it myself to quarry some stones tomorrow." "Yis; there it is, standin' over in the corner, beyant the hob in the kitchen forninst you: I'm done with it-many thanks to you !" "Why, thin, what would you want wid a crowbar, Finnegan?" said one of his customers. "Oh, it's the misthiss you should ax about that!" said Rory. 66 Why, is it for batin' her he got it?" "No," said Finnegan. "It's a flail I have for that." "It's Misthiss Finnegan that wants it," said Rory: "she makes the punch so sthrong, that she bent all her spoons sthrivin' to stir it; and so she borrowed the crowbar." "Long life to you, Rory, your sowl!" said Finnegan, who relished this indirect compliment to the character of his establishment. "Divil be from me, but you won't lave the house this day without takin' a tumbler with the misthiss, afther that! and she shall mix it herself for you, and with the crowbar, my boy!" Rory would not refuse the hospitality offered; so, entering the kitchen, he sat by the fire: and |