"Well," said Tom, wondering whether he was equal to the performance.

"You should have your hat in your hand, as if you were viewing the fox," continued Angelena.

"I don't know," paused Tom, thinking he couldn't manage it. His idea was, that he would want one hand for the bridle, and the other for the pommel of the saddle.

"Oh, yes," rejoined Angelena, "you must have your hat off-you must have your hat off; indeed the artist would never be able to catch your fine commanding expression of countenance with your hat on," looking at Tom's great fat vacant face, as if it was radiant with intellect.

"Suppose I was to be sitting on my horse, taking my hat off to you coming up," suggested Tom, thinking that would be easier than leaping the gate hat in hand.

"Well," replied Angelena, "I'll be cantering up on my beautiful cream-colour."

"That would do very nicely," observed Tom, thinking the pull was now in his favour as against Jug.

"We must have a ride together," exclaimed the accomplished tactician "to-morrow, let us say. Sophy Fergey wants me to play pretty to her and Captain Mattyfat to the cottage by the windmill on Heatherblow Heath, and there's no reason why I should not have a beau as well as her."

"I shall be most proud," replied Tom, bowing before her, thinking he would beat Jug in a canter.

"You've seen my beautiful pop-pet-ty, haven't you?" asked she. "Your what?" gaped Tom.

"My pop-pet-ty-my own delightful palfrey, my own Lily of the Valley."

"Oh, yes," said Tom, "I saw her in the stables at the barracks." "Such a love-such a dear-my pa is so kind-gives me everything I want-I might eat gold if I could. Ah! I've a happy home," sighed she, clasping her taper hands, and thinking, with upturned eyes, what she would give to be away from it, "and I'm very, very thankful," continued she, dropping her hands slowly and reverently before her.

And Tom gaped in admiration of her piety, and thought whether he could make her as happy at his father's house in Newbold-street.

Angelena, who expected something better for this display, looked out of the window to give Tom time to brew up a bit of sentiment, but none seeming inclined to come, she determined to change her tactics and endeavour to pique him.

"Mr. Jug wanted to buy my beautiful Lily," observed she, flourishing a fine machinery-lace fringed handkerchief, redolent of otto of roses. "Did he," replied Tom, nothing comforted by the information. "Yes; he took a fancy to her one day out riding with me, and wanted pa to put a price upon her, but he wouldn't."

"Indeed," mused Tom.

"Mr. Jug is very rich-at least will be," observed Angelena, casually, though he has nothing to do with tride. He's a grandson of old Lord Pitchers," continued she, as if Tom hadn't the same information as well from herself as from a score of other sources. A sprig of nobility was not

so common in the Heavysteeds that they could afford to put the light of one under a bushel, though they sunk the fact of there being a whole row of little Jugs when it suited their purpose.

"I wonder you could refuse such a swell anything," observed our Tom. "Oh, pa didn't refuse him, exactly-he referred him to me. He said she was mine, and I might do as I liked."

"What, it was you, then, that refused him, was it?" asked Tom. "Yes, it was me," replied Angelena.

"I wonder at that."

Why do you wonder at it ?"

"Oh, I don't know," replied Tom.

66

Nay, you must know," replied Angelena, winningly; "tell me why you wonder at it?" continued she, looking imploringly at our hero.

"Oh, I don't know," repeated Tom, half afraid to say.

Nay, that's not worthy of you, Mr. Hall," observed Angelena, pettedly, "making an assertion without a reason.'

you

"Well, then, to tell the truth," said Tom, screwing up his courage, "because they say

"What do they say?" asked Angelena, shaking with impatience. "That you are to be Mrs. Jug," replied Tom, biting his lips after he had said it.

"Me Mrs. Jug!" exclaimed the artless innocent, throwing up her hands as if horrified at the idea—" me Mrs. Jug!" repeated she. "Don't believe a word they say, Mr. Hall!" exclaimed the fair lady, emphatically, -"don't believe a word they say about Mr. Jug!-he is nothing to me he never was anything to me-he never will be anything to me-I never had the slightest fancy for him-his fortune, his title, have no attractions for me."

This declaration comforted Tom exceedingly, for he had had some frightful dreams, in which Jug appeared in various forms-now as a bold dragoon, with his bright sword gleaming ready for insertion in his stomach; next, that Jug had him at twelve very short paces well covered with his pistol; anon, that Angelena and the dread cornet were kissing their hands to him from the car of a balloon, with the words "Gretna Green" in raised gilt letters on the panels; and now that they were whisking away by northern express to the same destination.

Hall was exceedingly comforted, for though he had not got back the promise of marriage letter from dear Jane Daiseyfield, it was so long since he had heard anything about her, that he made no doubt she had taken up with some one else; at all events, he was quite ready to risk an engagement with Angelena, who, apart from her fifty thousand pounds, he looked upon as the most interesting, captivating creature he had ever beheld.

"Oh, my dearest, my sweetest Angelena!" exclaimed he, seizing both her hands, and starting forward on his seat to fall on his knees, when lo! the coach began to rock, and, before he knew where he was, Angelena was sprawling a-top of him. The colonel had upset them at this most critical moment.

Feb.-VOL. XCIV. NO. CCCLXXIV.

THE WATERMAN.*

AN OLD POPULAR GERMAN BALLAD.

TRANSLATED BY JOHN OXENFORD.

THE Waterman a-courting goes,

High up the mountain and out of the sea;
The King of England's child he woos,
The lovely Emilie.†

A bridge he builds, with gold o'erlaid,
Down from the mountain and over the sea,
With which to tempt the darling maid,
The lovely Emilie.

Upon the bridge she dar'd to go,

Down from the mountain and over the sea,
When straight he pull'd her down below,
The lovely Emilie.

She dwell'd for seven years and more,

Far from the mountain and down in the sea,
And seven lusty sons she bore,

Did lovely Emilie.

Once by the cradle as she stood,

Far from the mountain and down in the sea,
Old England's bells peal'd through the flood
To lovely Emilie.

"Oh! let me, dearest, I implore,

Go up yon mountain and out of the sea;
Oh! let me go to church once more,

Your own poor Emilie."

"Nay, if to church I let you go,

High on the mountain and over the sea,

You will not come again below,

My own sweet Emilie."

"Oh! I'll return, you need not fear,

Down from the mountain and into the sea;

For who will tend our children dear,

If not poor Emilie ?"

And when the old churchyard she trod,

High on the mountain and over the sea,
The leaves and grass began to nod,
To greet fair Emilie.

✦ “Wassermann”—neither a man in a boat, nor the functionary of a cab-stand, but a potent gentleman, who lives in the water.

"Agnese" says the original; but as that is an unmanageable name, I have taken the liberty of altering it. My scruples are the less, inasmuch as the name is by no means settled, another text of the ballad calling the young lady "Hannele."

And when she reach'd the old church door,
High on the mountain and over the sea,
The proudest nobles bow'd before
The lovely Emilie.

Her father led her to a chair,

High on the mountain and over the sea;
The mother placed a cushion there
For lovely Emilie.

At table then she took her seat,

High on the mountain and over the sea, And there they served up fish and meat For lovely Emilie.

Before she could a morsel taste,

High on the mountain and over the sea, An apple in her lap was cast

For lovely Emilie.

"Oh! mother, do as I desire,

High on the mountain and over the sea; This apple fling into the fire

For your poor

Emilie."

SIR CHARLES NAPIER IN SCINDE.*

WHEN Shere Mohamed, called the Lion (says Lieutenant-General Sir William Napier), was defeated near Hyderabad, his vanquisher publicly declared that another shot would not be fired. This was ridiculed as a vain boast, but it proved a sound prediction, and well founded on the following considerations.

The

A country peopled by distinct races, having different religions and opposing interests, could not furnish either the passions or the material means for a protracted contest under misfortune. The Scindian proper, the cultivator of the soil, was but an oppressed bondsman, an unarmed slave, and the destruction of the ameers was his deliverance. Hindoos, numerous, timid, and of a faith condemned by Beloochee (Biluchi) and Scindian alike, were an isolated, plundered people, and sure to accept peace with protection. The Beloochees only had an interest to prolong the war; for, having been habitually oppressors, they desired to maintain their profitable ascendant position. But they had lost two great battles, their treasury had been taken, six of their princes were captives, and their political and military organisation was so shattered, they could not take the field again for regular warfare, while the diversity of religion and interests was a sure bar to any general insurgent resistance. Moreover, the Belooch polity was feudal, and its natural tendency to disunion was augmented in Scinde, because the sirdars and chiefs owed service to many heads-each ameer being sovereign, and though their princes lived in families, and even in the same fortresses, it was in hatred, agreeing in nothing save to oppress their subjects, and turn the land they misgoverned into a wilderness for hunting.

Mohamed, the Lion of Meerpoore, the hardiest of the Talpoories, did not fight at Meanee, for he thought, like all his race, that the British could not stand before the fierce swordsmen gathered on that fatal field, and as victory would, he knew, render the other Talpoor princes more insolently encroaching towards himself, he renewed his contingent force of twelve thousand warriors entire to influence the after-arrangements. But the Lion of Meerpoore had in his turn been signally defeated at Hyderabad, and Sir Charles Napier, judging that having found him too strong in battle, they would, if beneficence followed victory, prefer his rule to that of the ameers, resolved to treat the Talpoor sirdars with a munificent liberality; at the same time that he made no distinction between the vanquished Beloochees and the delivered races of Scindees and Hindoos.

But Sir Charles was not satisfied with proceeding at once to establish a new polity in the conquered country; he must needs also condemn the whole system of the East India Company, adopting it as an established fact, that "to the genius of some governors-general, and some military commanders, and to the constant bravery of the troops, belongs all the greatness; to the courts of direction, designated by Lord Wellesley as the ignominious tyrants of the East, all the meanness." The bravery and

* History of General Sir Charles Napier's Administration of Scinde, and Campaign in the Cutchee Hills. By Lieutenant-General Sir William Napier, K.C.B. With Maps and Illustrations. Chapman and Hall.