ONE DOLLAR PER ANNUM, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOWANDA:
(EljnrsiMn fUorninn, Ulnn l r L 185/.
jJtltrto) fottrg.
SIR LAUNCELOT AND QUEEN GUINEVERE.
BY ALFRED TEXSYSON.
Like souls that balance joy and pain,
With tears and smiles from Heaven again,
The maiden Spring upon the plain
Came in a sunlit fall of rain.
In crystal vapor everywhere
Blue eyes of Heaven laughed between,
And, far in the forest depths unseen,
The topmost linden gathered green
From draughts of balmy air.
Sometimes the linnet piped his song ;
Sometimes the throstle whistled strong ;
Sometimes the spar-hawk wheeled along,
By grassy capes, with fuller sound ;
In curves the yellowing river ran.
And drooping chestnut buds began
To spread into a perfect fan.
Above the teeming ground.
Then, in the boyhood of the year,
Sir Launcelot aud Queen Guinevere,
Rode through the coverts of the deer,
With blissful treble ringing clear,
She a part of joyous spring :
A gown of gTass green silk she wore,
Buckled with golden clasps before ;
A light green tuft of plumes .-he bore,
Closed in a golden ring.
Now on some twisted ivy net,
Now by some tinkling rivulet,
On mosses thick with violet,
Her cream white mule her pastern set;
Aud now more fleet she skimmed the plains
Than she whose eliin prancer springs
By night to her airy warblings,
When all the glimmering moorland rings
With jingling bridle reins.
As she tied fast through the sun and shade,
Tiie happy winds upon her played,
Blowing the ringlet from the braid ;
She looked so lovely as she swayed
The rein with dainty finger tips,
A man had given all other bliss,
And all his worldly worth for this,
To waste his whole heart in one kiss
Upon her perfect lips.
SYMPATHY.
A knight and a lady once met in a grove,
While each was in quest of a fugitive love ;
A riter ran mournfully murmuring by.
And they wept in its waters for sympathy.
" 0. never was knight such a sorrow that bore!"
" 0, never was maid so deserted before 1"
■ From life and its woes let us instantly fly,
And jump in together for company 1"
They gazed on each other, the maid and the kniGht;
How fair was her form, and how goodly his height ;
"One mournful embrace 1" sobb'd the youth," ere we die!"
So kissing and crying they kept company.
" 0, had 1 but loved such an angel as you 1"
" 0 had but my swain been a quarter as true 1"
" To miss such perfection how blinded was 1!"'
sere now they were excellent company!
At length spoke the lass, 'twist a -mile and a tear—
' The weather is cold for a watery bier :
When summer returns we may easily die—
Till then let us sorrow in company."
Stluitk Ca I t
[From Household Words.]
KESTER'S EVIL EYE.
I.
In the cottage to the left hand of the forge
at Hanvood there lived, about five and twenty
years ago, a man of the name of Christopher
—or, as the country folks abbreviated it, Kes
ter—l'ateman He had formerly held the
the post of village blacksmith and farrier, but
had long since retired from the exercise of his
craft. He was said to have the gift of the
evil eye ; uot that he was a malicious man, but
that involuntarily his blighted whatever it fixed
upon. Friend or enemy, his own children or
aliens, it was ail one ; Kester's eye settled on
them, and they withered away. No single
thing prospered with him. The crops on his
little farm were always either frosted, blighted,
or miserably thin ; or, if they were good and
good and abundant, rain came after the corn
was cut, aud it lay out until it sprouted and
rotted away ; once he got it all stacked and the
Hark took fire ; another time the grain was
threshed out and stored up in safety, but the
rats devoured a third of it. His cattle were
me leanest in the couutry ; his sheep died of
disease ; his children perished oue by one as
they grew up to manhood and womanhood ;
every horse he shod, fell lame before it had
.'one a mile. Kester was a miserable man ;
all the country avoided him as if he had got
the the plague.
Kester had one child left ; a daughter, born
•ing after the rest ; she being the offspring of
a young Irish girl whom he had chosen to
starry in his old age. The Irish girl ran away
SJOII after the child's birth, on the plea of bav
l,'g a husband iu her own country whom she
--•■'J better.
Kester made no attempt to bring her back,
| '"t coutented himself with spoiling Katie.—
Katie was not a bit like what his other child
had been ; she was her mother over again.
| T*o wide opened dark blue eyes, a white skin
jf considerably freckled, black elf locks always
i | a tangle, a wide red mouth, and little teeth
I pearls ; a figure smart and lissome, and a
' "l 1 that lilted along as if it kept time to an
j. "ward tune, made of Katie a village beauty
; t #d a coquette.
f . Abe strangest thing of all was (so the peo-
E bought at least) that Kester's evil eye had
1 effect on Katie. She grew as strongly aud
'ooaaed as hardily, as the wild briar in the
I: ''j-'t row. Everybody remembered the five
| who were born to him by his first
K ""t; Low they pined from thoir cradle. They
a sickly hectic in their faces like their
I cr j v -'hilc Katie's checks were red as a
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
damask rose ; they crept about home weary
and ailing always, while Katie was away in
the woods, the wonder of the village, healthier
more wilful, ami bonnier than any girl in the
district.
11.
The blacksmith who had succeeded Kester
Pateman at the village forge was a young man
of herculean strength, and a wild character.—
He was more than suspected of a tenderness
for the Squire's pheasants, but the gamekeep
er had not yet been found bold enough to give
him a night encounter in the woods ; his name
was Rob McLean ; he had been a soldier, and
was discharged with a good conduct, after ten
years' service and two wounds. He was Ka
tie's 'first sweetheart. She was very proud to
be seen walking with him in the green lane on
Sunday nights ; but it was more child's pride
than anything else, for, when he began to tulk
about marrying, she laughed and said no, she
was not for him, he was too old.
Jasper Linfoot, the miller's eldest son, next
cast his eye upon her, and followed her like 1
her shadow for a mouth ; but no—Katie did
not fancy him, he was too ugly ; lie squinted, !
he had red hair, and his legs were not both of
the same length. Then there was Peter As- >
kew. the squire's huntsman, but he was a wid
ower ; and Phil Cressv, the gardener, but he
was a goose ; and Tom Carter—but Katie
could not abide a tailor.
While Katie, very hard to please, was co
quetting with her would-be lovers, perfectly
safe and perfectly heart-free, Kester Pateman
had settled ail the time who she should marry
—Johnny Martin, and nobody else. Johnny
was the only sou of Martin, the squire's coach
man, who had saved money. He was a sim
ple young man, with lank hair, a meek express
ion of countenance, and some gift for expound
ing, which he practised to small select congre
gations in Patemau's barn every Sunday
evening. When Kester announced his intention
to his daughter, Katie pouted her red lips and
tossed Her head, saying, with an accent of su
perlative contempt, "That Johnny I" Rut
she answered neither yea nor nay to her fath
ers's word ; and the next Sunday "that John
ny" came courting with a little basket of
cabbages on his arm, as an offering to his
belle.
Katie looked as if it would have done her
heart good to fling them, one after the other,
in his fat foolish face, but sue restrained the
impulse, and only'said :
" I'll plant 'em out to morrow. Johnny."
"Plant them out Katie ! Why they're to
eat."
" Pigs ?" asked Katie, in inuoceat bewilder
ment. "We don't keep any."
" No, they're for you, Katie ; they're the
finest white-hearts."
" Hearts ! Oh, Johnny, take 'em away di
rectly ; hearts !—I never saw a heart before,"
and she peeped into the basket with a face of
horrified curiosity
Now Johnny had proclaimed that his affec
tions had fallen on Katie because she was such
a clever girl, and could do everything ; but
this exhibition of her talents by no means
equalled her former impressions. He tried her
again :
"Can't you cook, Katie? Did you nev
er stuff and roast a heart for your father's din
ner ?"
" Oh, Johnny, and you putting up for the
schoolmaster's place ; what wicked nonsense
you are talking ! Surely you've called at the
131 ue Cow by the way
Johnny at this monstrous insinuation broke
out into a cold perspiration ; he was the most
abstemious of young men, and had a name in
the viilige for every variety of excellence ;
an J Katie was quite capable of telling her
suspicions everywhere, lie endeavored to
take her hand and to put his artn around her
waist ; but Katie brought her palm against
his cheek with such hearty good-will that he
was fain to subside upon his chair in meek dis
may.
" If you do that again, Johnny Martin. I'll
tell my father," she cried ; and with an affce
tation of great anger, she bowled his cabbage
out into the garden, and ordered him to march
after them in double quick time. He took up
his hat and obeyed her, casting on her, as he
went, the most pitiful aud expostulatory glan
ces
" Don't stop at the Blue Cow, Johnny ; go
straight home," she cried as he went out at the
gate, and the defeated swain crept away quite
dejected.
Katie returned into the house, and began to
sleek her hair before the little glass by the
kitchen fire, hamming a tune all the time and
thinking how well she was rid of Johnny, when
that worthy's voice sounded through the open
window :
" 1 didn't stop at the Blue Cow, Katie."—
She turned shortly around with such a shrewish
face that Johnny added, in haste to deprecate
her wrath, "I left my basket, Katie ; let me
get it—it's iu the corner."
" At your peril set foot over the doorstone,
Johnny !" Johnny's plump countenance instant
ly disappeared. She snatched up the basket,
threw it after him, and then took a hearty lit
of laughter to herself.
IJI.
It was the beginning of harvest ; and, on
the evening of the day after Johnny Martin's
inauspicious courting visit, Kester Pateman
aud Katie were sitting on the wooden bench
before the door, she knitting, and he bemoan
ing, when a party of Irish reapers, with their
sickles in their hands came up the lane. They
stopped at the gate, and one of the men asked
if Kester wanted hands for his corn ?
"No, I see nue the use o' hands," replied the
old man ; "it'll all be spoilt."
It had been a splendid season, and Kester's
little fields showed as rich and ripe a crop as
any in the country ; it was quite ready for cut
ting, and the weather was settled aud favora
ble.
" But, father, you must have hands," said
Katie,who had a most irreverent disbelief in the
evil eye ; "two reupers and a binder, with you
aud me, will get the crops in this week, and
I'll overlook 'em for luck." Kester stopped two
men and a lad, and bade the others go higher
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TO WAV I) A. BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
" REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
up the lane to Marshall's farm. "Rut wherc's
the good of it, Katie ?" he added. "You'd
have had a tidy fortune but for me. Go into
the barn, lads, you'll get your supper 'enow."
The old man was very despondent; for he had
just lost a line calf, which he thought to sell at
a good price. Kate bade him cheer up, and
went indoors to set out the supper for the rea
pers. When it was ready, she called to them
to come ; three as Ragged Robbins as ever
might have served for scarecrows appeared at
her biddiug.
Oue of them was a tall fine young man, with
a head well set on his shoulders, a roguish eye,
and a very decided national tongue. He look
ed at Katie, and she at him ; and fcr the first
time in her life, the girl's eyes feM, and her col
or rose. Alick seemed slightly bashful too—
very slightly—for, after dropping his glance
on his plate for a second, it followed Katie to
and fro in the kitchen without intermission,
until she went out into the little garden
again. Aliek could see her through the
branches of briar across the window, standing
at the gate with her father, talking with Rob
McLean, and lie immediately conceived an
intense dislike for that well-built son of Vul
can, with the scar across his forehead. Aliek
jumped to conclusions very quickly ; he had
fallen in love at first sight, and was ready to
quarrel with any man who so much as looked
at Katie.
Having made an end to his supper, he event
out into the lane to his comrades, who were sit
ting under the hedge, resting and munching
lumps of bread and cheese —Marshall's kitchen
not being big enough to hold them all. Alick
kept Katie at the gate in sight ; and, though
she seemed never to look this way, she knew
perfectly well how he watched her ; and mov
ed, perhaps by the natural spirit of coquetry, j
she marched with her knitting into the house,
and shut herself up in her bed-room. It had
a window looking out the lane, and Katie sat
near it with her pins and stocking, peeping out
sometimes to see how the evening went on,
and whether there was promise of fine weather
next day to cut the corn. Aliek wandered off
by-and-by. How should he know that tiny
lattice iu the bushy pear-tree was Katie's ? ' j
Alick, Kester, Katie, and the rest, were
all in the fields next morning, us soon us the
sun was up. The reaping began. Katie would
bind for Alick ; and, during the day, the two
exchanged a good many sharp words. Rob
McLean came to lend a hand in the afternoon
and the uien soon found each other out ; but
Rob had a decided udvautage over the other.
"Was there ever such a wild Irishman, all tat
ters and rags, ever seen in the country-side
before ?" whispered Rob to Katie, as they sat
under a tree, at four o'clock, eating the'low
ance that had been brought from the house ;
Katie gave Alick a sly glance, and said "No."
And, as Alick overheard both question and
answer, he vowed vengeance against Rob.
The night in the lane there was Jasper L:n
foot aud Phil Cressy : and Katie talked and
laughed with both of them ; and the next day
she was gossiping with Peter Askew over the
field style ; and in the evening Tom Carter
brought her shreds of scarlet cloth that she
wanted to weave into a mat, and Katie chat
tered with him ; and the next day Johnny
Martin came with au offering of summer ap
ples, which (Alick being there to see) were
gracionsly accepted. So Johnny was hearten
ed into staying half-an-hour, sighing and smil
ing spasmodically. A lick went out very wrath
ful. "So many rivals are too many for one
man," thought he. And, all the following
morning, he took no more notice of Katie than
he did of Kester—l mean, he seemed not to
take mneli notice of her.
Katie was as cross as sticks, and pretended
to he ill, and must go home. Home, according
ly, she went, aud tangled her knitting horribly.
She had not been there long, when Alick
came in at the gate with a long face, holding
his hand in a handkerchief, nil stained with
blood. L p sprang Katie, the color going out
of her face with fright.
" ou're hurt, Alick ! O how have you
done it ? Let me see and bind it up."
" The least bit in creation, Miss Katie ; but
you're the best binder in the world, and it'll
heal under your eyes," replied the wily Alick,
uncovering the injured hand.
Katie got a sponge and water, aud bathed
it, and her pity Hid.
" It's not much more than a scratch," said
she ; so Alick groaned miserably.
" Surely, Miss Katie, it's the hard heart
you've got, for all your bonnie face," said he
reproachfully.
Kate blushed. Nobody else's compliments
had ever imd that pleasing effect before ; and
Alick snddeuly took heart of grace, and said
one or two more pretty things that did not
seem to vex Katie very much. The dressing
of the wound being done, Alick was obliged
to go back to the field : carrying the 'lowauce
was an excuse for Katie to return too ; so,
leaving her ball to the mercy of the cat on the
floor, she got the basket and stone bottle of
beer ready, and followed Alick. The reapers
said 'lowance was was early that day, and her
father found fault about it.
A lick's reflections were of a more cheerful
turn now. "Too many rivals may be good as
none," he thought. Indeed, he had found out
—who knows by what freemasonry ?—that
Katie liked nobody so well as him ; and he
turned his discovery to good account. Rid
she encourage Rob, or Jasper, or Peter, or
Johnny, or any one of her uumerous admirers,
by word or smile, he devoted himself Jennie,
the pretty Irish girl, who was binding at
Marshall's farm ; and Katie's pillow could have
testified that he had ample revenge.
Thus tbey went on till the last shock was
in stack, and the Irish reapers began to travel
north in search of fresh pastures All went
but Alick ; and he, from his quick wit and
sharp eye, had won favor with the Sqnire's
head keeper, who retained him as one of his
watchers.
Although he had arrived at Ilarwood a
scarecrow of rags, who so trim and spruce now
as Alick ? Katie had a secret pride in his
appearance, as, with his gun on his arm. and
his game-bag slung over his shoulder, he fol
lowed the Squire in the woods, looking, as she
thought, far the finer the handsomer gentleman.
That Johnny's face had now become perfectly
sickening to her, and none the less so because
Kester would talk of their marriage ; school
master, with a salary of thirty pounds, a cot
tage and garden rent free, and coals ad libitum;
so that he had a home to take her to.
Katie was having a good cry one afternoon
in the house by herself, over the thoughts of
Johnny, when there came a knock to the door.
She got up and opened it, expecting to see u
neighbor come in for a gossip ; but, instead,
there stood Aliek.
Directly he saw what she had been about he
cried, "Who has been vexing the, Katie?—
Only tell me, tell me, Katie !" A a smile
broke through her tears as she said, "0 A lick
it's that Johnny !" And they looked iu each
other's faces and laughed.
Ifat Aliek said more, this tradition betray
eth not ; but, whatever it was, Johnny's pros
pects of a wife were not increased thereby ; and
when Aliek went home to his cottage at the
park gate, it was with a triumphant step and
his curly head in the air ; and Katie cried no
more over her knitting that afternoon,
v.
Village gossip soon proclaimed the fact of
Alick's visits to Kester Pateman's cottage ;
aud amongst the first to hear of them was
Johnny. lie went and remonstrated with
Katie, and threatened to tell her father. Ka
tie's blood was up, and she dared him to tell
at once. So Johnny did tell and Kester bade
Aliek keep away. "Katie's for no Irish beg
gar, but for a decent liarwood lad," said he,
surily. "And you'll come about my place no
more, Sir Gamekeeper—d'ye hear ?"
Aliclc feigned obedience ; but he and Katie
met in the green lane on Sundays. There was
a little gate from the pasture where Kester's
cows were, into the wood ; and often at milk
ing time, you might have seen Aliek leaning
over the gate, talking to Katie at her task ;
but, as the evening grew cold and the cuttle
were brought up to the house, these meetings
were less frequent ; for Kester began to watch
his daughter as a cat watches a mouse. He
suspected her.
The neighbors noticed Katie become graver
and paler, and shook their heads portenticusly.
"She's fading, like the rest of theui," they said ;
"she'll not see the Spring. Kester's smitten
her, poor man !"
And, by-and-by, Kcstersaw the change him
self. When he did see it, his heart stopped
beating. "Whv, Katie, my bairn !" cried he,
with fully awukend love and fear ; "Katie,
my bairn ? Thou'st not going off iu a waste,
like thy brothers and sisters ?"
Katie was knitting by the firelight ; and
as her needles went, her tears fell. " 1 don't
know, father, but the neighbors say I look like
it. I'm sick and ill —." And her tears flowed
faster.
Kester kissed her, aud went out in a black
mood.
" Oh, what'll I do? What'll Ido for thee,
Katie, my bairn ?" said he, aloud. I'm fit to j
tear my eyes out o'my head ! What have I '
done, that all goes ill with me ?"
It happened that Aliek was loitering about
in the hope of a chance word with Katie, and
he overheard Kester's lamentation.
" What's the matter, Master Pateman ?
Katie's not ill, is she 1" he ventured to ask.
Glad to unfold his misery to anybody, Kester
told Aliek of his daughter's changed looks,
and what every body attributed them to.
"Go to the wise man, Harm Rex, at Swiu
tord, to-morrow : he's got a charm agen the
Evil Eye," suggested Aliek in haste. " He'll
tell you what to do : you may trust him."
Somewhat comforted, Kester re-entered the
house. Aliek went oIF to Swinford to prepare
the sage for his visiter the next day.
VI.
" Where are you going, father ?" Katie ask
ed, the following morning, as her father came
to breakfast dressed as if for church or market.
"I'tti going to 'Bram Rex, Katie, to hear
what he says about something, lie's a won
derful wise man."
"Is it the stacks, father? I'd fear none: all's
right so far. Them Irish reapers brought
yon luck, I'm thinking."
" It's not about the corn, Katie, but thfe.
I maun't lose thee, my bairn. Aliek says
'Brum has got a charm, and I'm going to
get it for thee. I don't like thy white looks
and thy crying."
Katie dropped her spoon, and smiled to her
self as she stooped to pick it up again, with a
face like a rose, which .-he was fain to hide by
looking away through the window for ever so
long.
After breakfast, Kester mounted his old
gray mare, and went slowly to Swinford, very
mournful, andjmuch troubled iu his mind. The
village of Swinford was, by the river, seven
miles from liarwood, and the high road ran
along the bank, with a steep fall to the water
which was covered with hazel, and low shrubs
" Wherefore shouldn't I fling myself in there,
and save the poor bairn V" he said to himself,
as he saw the river shining and glancing
through the bushes. " But after all" he add
ed, "it will be as well to see old 'Bram Rex
first, and hear what lie's got to say to her. My
poor bairn ! Poor Katie !"
So lie went forward to a smnll slatted cot
tage at lie entrance of the village, aud knock
ed at the door.
" Come in," said a rough voice. Kester
fastened his bridle to the paling of the garden,
and entered.
The wise man was sitting in a large chair
by the fireside, stirring a composition iu a pan
which had far more of the perfume of u poach
hare than hell-broth, which the gossips said he
was in the habit of making. 'Bram was an old !
man with a long beard, and the subtilist and
most wily of smiles. He looked up at his vis
iter from under his brows cunningly and
shrewdly, then motioned bim to be seated, by
a wave of his hand. Kester was not here for
the first time ; many a half-crown had he paid
'Bram for prognostics touching the weather,
information about lost articles, and charms for
! his cattle against disease and his crops again-t
blight; but he never l>efore felt such a perfect
submission to the awful sage in the chair cov
ered with cat skins
" I know your errand, Kester Pateman,"
said 'Brum, solemnly. " I have been working
out the hor scope all night. It is a case of
difficulty."
Kester was profoundly impressed by this
prescience, and his poor old hands shook as
he drew out his leathern purse, and said :
" 'Bram, it's not money nor corn this time ;
it's my bairn Katie."
The sage nodded and echoed,
" Katie ! I knew it."
" Wfiat must I give ? This?"
And Kester took out a gold piece, and laid
it on the seemingly unconscious palm of 'Bram.
"Enough, Kester Pateman," he;
" enough. Tell me what you waut—your
daughter is smitten "
" Yes 'Bram ; but there was fone told me
you had a charm agen the Evil Eye. Would
it save her ? Will you sell it V' asked Kester,
trembling all over with anxiety,Jand stretching
out his feeble hands with the purse to 'Brain.
'Bram took the purse, but said severely :
" I do not sell, Kester Pateman—talk not
of selling. Describe to me the child's symp
toms, and be at peace."
The wise man had u voice of such pretur
natural depth that it really seemed us if his
words were also of superior sagacity ; Kester
listened to him with the profoundest faith, and
then gave a description of Katie's state—her
pule cheeks, her stillness, and her crying.—
'Bram shook his head.
" I don't say she'll die, Kester, and I can't
say she'll live ; but there's one chance, if you'll
try it."
" I'll do anything, 'Bram—why I'd die for
that bairn ! You don't know how I love my !
Katie. What's the chance, 'Bram !"
" The stars will not be hurried, Kester Pate
man ; they have not spukeu yet. Come and '
see."
The sage led the way into a second room, j
in the middle of which was a table whereon ;
lay a sheet of paper with sundry figures and j
scrawls thereon.
" Look here," and 'Bram began to trace a
line with his forefinger. "This is a girl's line
of life. Mark it well, Kester Pateman."
Kester, dizzy with anxiety, fixed his eyes
on it intently.
" Here is a man of battles ; it passes liim.
This part shows them that seek her in matri- |
monv ; them that she must not marry, Kester ;
—you mark me ?"
Kester nodded his head.
" She must not marry any one cf these with
the cross agen 'em. Not this with the spade,
the figure with the sack, nor him with the tai
lor's goose, nor yet this man leading of ahorse,
nor yet that one with the peaked cap and fe
rule—the stars have spoken agen 'em all."
Kester wiped his forehead, aud said he saw
that clearly enough.
" Mark me agen, Kester," pursued the sage,
sinking his voice until it sounded as if it came
up out of the toes of his boots ; " mark well, 1
for I can't show you it a second time. This j
is the sign of a powerful man who has come j
over the sea—he's got a sickle and a gun.— j
The sickle means that lie shall reap abundance i
o' corn, and live on the fat o' the land all his j
days, and the gun is a token that he's a brave |
man ; and his face being to Katie's line o' life ;
is a sign that he loves her, and that she has a ;
thought for him. Are you hearkening Kes- '
ter ?"
" Yes, 'Bram, I hear. On ! but you are a
knowledgeable man. These," following the !
first marks with his fingers, " are surely Rob i
M'Leau, and Jasper Linfoot, and here's Phil
Cressy, and Peter Askew, and Turn Carter,
and Johnny Martin "
" Them's their names ! None o' 'em must'
your Katie marry, the stars lias otherwise lie- |
spoke for 'em. Do you kuovv who this last is, j
Kester ?"
" It maun be Alick, the wild Irish reaper ; '
him that's at the Squire's now."
" Him it is, and no other ! The interpre
tation therefore is just !" said 'Brain, emphati
cally, aud he rolled up the sheet of paper.
Kester Pateiuau was greatly in awe of
'Brain, but he endeavored to protest agaiust
the conclusion.
" 'Brain, couldn't you briug forward an
other ?" said he, hesitatingly.
" Can I alter the stars, Kester ?" replied
the sage in his sternest tone ; " I do not
make, or mend, or mar, I only read lor the
blind what is written. You must give your
bairn Katie to Aliek, or she'll die."
"O 1 I will—surely 1 will,'Bram 1" in great
haste cried poor Kester. " He's honest if he's
poor, aud Katic'll not have a penny. Tell j
mc, Kester, will 1 sell my corn well this time!"
" You shall," responded 'Bram ; " you shall
sell it as others do."
" Have you that charm agen the Evil Eye
that one told me of 'Braiu ?" Kester humbly
inquired.
" Yes, Kester ; but it is not to be bought
with silver nor gold. Send nv half a bushel
of your best aits, and you shall have it. I've
parted with a many, but Eve only one on hand
now, and it's a good one."
" Let me have it, 'Bram. You'll get the
aits to-iuorrow morn."
'Brain went to a drawer in the dresser, and,
after rummaging for some minutes amongst
its contents, he brought forth a hare's foot
with a string attached to it. lie smoothed it
carefully with his hand, muttering a formula
of words to himself as he aid so.
" You must put this iu your pillow, Kes
ter, and every morning, the first thing when
you get up, opec the window, and fix on some
particular tree or bush, and look at it steady
while you spell your own name backwards
three times. You must look every day fast
ing at the same thing, and in time it will with
er away and die. Aud so you'll lie cured, and
in smiting the tree the rest u' your thiugs'l!
be safe."
Kester took the hare's foot as tenderly as if
it had been a sacred relic, and put it in his
bosom.
" Thank you, 'Bram—and you're sure Ka
tic'il be n ell if I let her wed Alick ?"
VOL. XVII. XO. 49.
" Yes, man ! You'll fiud the lass' face
shining when yon get home, for she's feeling
that your heart's changed towards her alreadv.
The stars have been whispering of it to her'"
Quite cheerfully Kester trotted the grey
mare home, and, as if immediately to prove
the sage's words true, Katie came to meet him
at the gate us rosy as a peony. Alick, at that
minute, was escaping by the cow house door
into the pasture, after telling Katie of his vi
sit to 'Brain Bex, und preparing her for its
probable results.
VII.
In the centre of the great meadow directly
opposite Kester I'utemau's chamber window
there was a fine old oak tree, quite in the ma
turity of its years and strength. Under its
wide-spreading branches a herd of cattle could
shelter from the Summer heat, and in its giant
I bole was timber enough to build a frigate al
j most. When Kester rose the morning after
: his visit to 'Brain Rex, he opened his window,
and his eyes fell on this tree the first thiug,
as they had probably done for many a year.
This time he gazed at it fixedly, half expect
ing to sec the lea res and branches shrivel un
der his gaze ; but he spelt his name backwards
three times, und there were no visible effects.
He went to market after breakfast and sold
his corn, and bought a new cow ; so implicit
was his faith in 'Brain's charm ; and, meeting
Johnny Martin, told him ruefully, that he must
leave off thinking of Katie ; for she was not
permitted to be his wife.
*' \\ hy not, Master Pateman demanded
Johnny, to whom this sudden change was in
comprehensible.
" Because thou's bespoken, Johnny, for an
other woman ; and there'd be contradiction
and the mischief aud all if we tried to go agen
what's ordained. I spoke to 'Brain Rex yes
terday—it was he tell't me."
" 'Brain Rex ! the vagabond fortuue teller!"
exclaimed Johnny, puffing out his fat cheeks
in token of contempt, for Johnny pretended to
more light than his neighbors. "Is that Ka
tie's best reason, Kester Pateman f"
" Maybe not, man ; she's no inkling that
I've changed my mind yet. I 'ant spoken to
her, but I maun."
" But it's not fair to jilt a poor fellow, be
cause 'Brum Rex tells you a pack of lies," re
monstrated Johnny. " I'll speak to Katie
myself, with your leave, Master Pateman, and
ask her her reasons."
" Her reasons, Johnny, are that site can't
abide thee ; thou's a good lud, but it goes agen
the grain with her to think o' thee. She' 3 a
saucy lassie, and her that's bespoken you bv
the stars has a mint of money
This happy invention of Kester's was utter
ed boldly us a consolation to the forsaken
swain, and he, as such accepted it, for Johnny
was as credulous as his neighbors.
In about a month after Kester Pateman's
visit to 'Bram Rex there was a wedding at
Ilarwood, and such a dance in Kester's barn
as had never been heard of in the country
side before. All the defeated swains were there.
Johnny Martin and Tom Carter made the mus
ic on two independeut-miuded violins, and lost,
in this opportunity of distinguishing them
selves, the sore sensation of disappointment.—
Johnny behaved nobly ; he presented Katie
with a half a peck of upples as a wedding pres
ent, and looked glorious all night. When Ka
tie came near him once he whispered :
" Katie, did you tell anybody about the Blue
Cow ?"
" Xo, man : it was oulv in fun," replied she
mischievously ; and Johnny drew a long breath
of relief.
What a dance that was to the tune of Mer
rily danced the Quaker's wife, and merrily
danced the Quaker ! It seemed as if it would
never come to an end. So loud and hilarious
was the mirth at the supper after it, that no
body heard the thunder rattling overhead, or
saw, when all separated and went home, the
lightning leaping about the hills. But there
had been certainly a terrible storm that night,
though few people at Ilarwood recollect it ;
and the next morning when Kester opened his
window, as his custom was, to give the charm
ed gaze at the oak tree in the meadow, behold !
one side was reft entirely of its boughs, and a
black, scarred trunk faced him instead of yes
terday's majestic growth. Kester started back
affrighted. Couid this be the effect of his Evil
Eye ?
If you go to Ilarwood, as you ride into the
village, in the meadow opposite the black
smith's forge you will see the blasted trunk of
the giant oak tree ; and, should curiosity
prompt you to ask how it came to be destroy
ed, any gossip will tell you that one Kester
Pateman withered it away by the power of
Evil Eye—he having gazed at it every morn
ing, fasting for that purpose. They will tell
you also that, from having been one of the
most unlucky of men, he became one of the
most prosperous in the district, with grand
children and great-grand-cbildren, aud Hocks
and herds innumerable.
Alick and Katie still live in the farm house
down by the water pasture, which the Squire
let them have when they were married. But
dint of talking of it, they have come themselves
to believe in the Evil Eye. 'Bram Rex's de
scendants live and flourish in various districts;
though 'Bram himself, for some mistake respect
ing another person's property, was transported
to a distant coiony to exercise his craft there
—with what success, this tradition sayeth not.
Pi~7.zi.ino.— A lady being asked by a gen
tleman to join in the bonds of matrimony with
him, wrote the word "stripes," stating at the
time that the letters making up the word
stripes, could be changed so as to make an au
swer to his question. Who kuows theauswer.
& A Young Irishman, who had married
when about 10 years of age, complained of the
difficulties to which early marriage subjected
him, said that he would "never marry so
young again if be lived to be asould as Methu
ialcin."
Thirty rafts and arks passed Harris
burg in than one hour, April 21th.