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Scarcely had the poet ended his ditty, when, startling as the sound of a trumpet, sudden as unexpected thunder, we heard one of the doors up stairs close with a loud bang, and a heavy foot moved slowly, or seemed rather to stagger, across the floor under which we sat. This was not fancy, for the old windows chattered again at every stride that was taken: the ghost, then, had come at last, and we sprang up from our seats, and gazed with astonishment at each other.

"Inspiring John Barley-corn,

What dangers dost thou make us scorn,"

for had we not drunk pretty deeply by this time, ten to one we should have adjourned by mutual consent, and never ventured out again a ghost hunting.

"Come along," exclaimed the unbeliever in ghosts, grasping a large rusty poker," and I'll exorcise him, even if it be the old Lord himself."

'I fear this will turn out more serious than the dog adventure," ," said another, "and I for one will prefer staying behind."

"Then stay alone," exclaimed we, endeavouring to look brave and follow our leader, while our knees were ready to knock together through fear. Again we ascended the staircase; we gained the uppermost landing, and the skeptic was in the act of opening the massy chamber-door, when something fell so heavily on the floor, as caused the whole staircase to vibrate; a deep groan followed the fall, and then we heard some one within breathe heavily. This was too much: the unbeliever bounded down stairs at three leaps, and we heard his teeth chatter again with terror. We were about to follow his example, when we heard a deep husky voice exclaim, "Betty, fill this pint ;" the tones were familiar to us, we rushed in with one accord, and found our

friend, old Richard, stretched upon the floor dead drunk. The mystery needed no farther explanation: we had long marvelled where he slept, and now discovered that he lived rent free at the Old Hall; and he had some interest in circulating the rumours of its being haunted. We put the old man comfortably to bed, and when we returned to the kitchen, we found our brave leader upon his knees, nor did we, until many a long day after, tell him who was the living ghost of the HAUNTED HOUSE.

Tom Otter (or Thomas Temporell) was executed at Lincoln in 1806, and his body afterward hung in chains on Saxilby Moor, near the ancient Roman Fossdyke. He married Mary Kirkam on Sunday morning, November the third, and murdered her on the evening of the same day, within a few yards of where his gibbet-post is at this hour standing. Last spring I caught a glimpse of the gibbetpost and irons, while passing the end of the lane; nor could I forget the sensations which the sight of it awakened in me when a boy, when I stood gazing upon the mouldering bones and the rusted irons, or heard them whistling in the wind at night, as I passed the long line of gloomy fir trees. I commenced a paper on the subject of the murder, intending it for the present volume; but the whole affair had such a revolting appearance, that it was thrown aside in disgust. So hardened was the murderer, that his countenance underwent no change during the trial, nor did his firmness abate when sentence of death was passed upon him; it was only afterward, when the judge decided that his body should be hung in chains, that his resolution faltered.

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THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS.

The morn is up again! the dewy morn,

With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom;
Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn,

And living as if earth contained no tomb,

And glowing into day.

Childe Harold.

THE ark had long stood motionless as a mountain upon the calm waters, for scarce a wave murmured along that illimitable ocean, which spread far as the cloudy shores of the sky, above the silent world. The sun streamed out high in the heaven, and darted his golden beams upon the outstretched deep; but neither tree nor turret arose to break the dazzling light; no green hill uplifted its eternal head-for even the pointed peaks of the highest summits lay far below the slumbering waves. Not a vestige of the beautiful earth was visible-nothing, save the shadow of the ark and the floating clouds, was mirrored upon the bosom of the The dolphin and the shark swam through the streets of mighty cities, and the sword-fish pursued its prey over the temples of the gods.

waters.

Seven times had the sun arisen since the waves last boiled like a cauldron, as they rushed down the only empty cavern which the world contained; since then no sound had broken the stillness of that watery solitude. At length a dove was loosened from its floating prison, and, springing into the air, spread its white wings in the sunshine, wheeling in wonder around its own

shadow beneath: then making a few circles higher up the sky, it sailed away upon the clear bosom of the wind, and searched in vain for its former home. What time the shadow of the ark fell eastward it flitted before the grated window, darkening as it passed the lovely brow of Japhet's wife, who was waiting anxiously the return of her favourite bird. At last the drenched boughs of a pine appeared in the distance, resting like a floating branch upon the waves; the drooping wings of a dead eagle waved to and fro amid the weeds that also fluttered in the breeze as they hung suspended from the dropping branches. Then rose the tops of the mountains, like tiny islands, dotting the immeasurable ocean; here and there the water rushed furiously along as it became narrowed between the defiles, bearing down masses of the precipice, that like flood-gates had retarded its progress. The ponderous whale threw the lessening waves aside, as he tried in vain to clear the pointed crags on which he rested, wounding himself deeper at every struggle. The mighty sea-snake was entangled among the trees, and reared his pillar-like crest in the sunshine, and arched the silver of his neck to reach the receding waters; but the inwoven boughs bore him aloft in triumph; and the curled leaves soon spread out to the wind and sunshine, as bright as when the nightingale last sang amid their branches. Soon the little hills bared their green heads to the sky; then the plains stretched out their expansive bosoms, and desolate cities became visible. The sea-weed "clung to the marble of their palaces;" the crown of the monarch had been washed away, and rested beside the beggar's wallet;—even the dog had raised his last yell upon the ermined robes of the Pagan priest. By the city gate lay a dead tiger-the head of a lovely child rested upon the striped savage, its little arms encircling his shaggy

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