upturned chin. Long and curiously-wrought silver earrings hung nearly to her shoulders, and a crowd of like ornaments bedizened every finger from nail to knuckle. A bright scarlet and coarse cloth gown, or rather robe -for its shape was unlike that general article of dress so termed in milliner's nomenclature-covered her tall and gaunt form, and, all in all, she looked the witch held in stern awe by lad and lassie, ay, and matron too, for many a mile away.

"An' well, Ned, my brave, my harebrained boy!" said the old woman, checking her chant and hailing the approach of her son. "Where's the fatted buck? Buried, I'll be bound, in in fresh-pulled fern, or smothered in dried leaves so carefully, that not even the sunshine can steal between a chink."

"You're no witch to say so, mother," returned the poacher, arriving at the door.

"No one questions Kit Macrone's powers

of spell and mystery," returned she, holding up her staff and drawing her commanding figure to its height. "This," continued she, pointing to the stick, "is the branch of a mistletoe, torn from an oak centuries ago. I have heard some of our tribe declare it was once a Druid's crook. Be that as it may; let me draw a circle with this charmed staff, and-"

"Yes, yes," interrupted her son, "that's all very well for those who pay for listening; but, as I'm in no humour for anything but eating, perhaps you'll get my breakfast ready."

"It is ready, my peppery, blazing boy," replied his mother, regarding him with fondness and throwing open the door;

and," continued she, placing a chair before a small table well covered with substantial fare, "if you've the unbounded stomach of a justice, here is food to tempt your dainty palate."

CHAPTER II.

“Hypocrisy, the thriving'st calling,
The only saint's-bell that rings all in;
A gift that is not only able

To domineer among the rabble,

But by the laws empower'd to rout,
And serve the greatest that stand out."

IN a cottage, before a blazing fire piled upon a spacious hearth, sat a man with his chin bent upon his breast, and the sonorous noise issuing from his parted lips proclaimed that sweet slumber was rocking him in the charm of his soothing lullaby. At his feet, in various postures, more remarkable for their ease than elegance, four small dogs were sprawling upon a roughly-twisted straw mat, and each was joining in the general chorus

of a snore.

The room was small, and the white-washed

ceiling low; but there was an air of comfort in the arrangement of its furniture and little ornaments which showed no want of taste, although, perhaps, a somewhat rude and uncultivated one. In each polished oak chair was a soft woollen cushion and mattress for the lounger's back. The table of black walnut-wood had been so rubbed by time and industry that its surface rivalled the mirror over the mantel-shelf. The walls were thickly studded with gaudy representations of "The Contented Shepherd," "The Sportsman's Return," "The Happy Gardener," and other rural subjects, decked in glowing tints, and suspended in ebony frames. Opposite to the hearth the mask of a fox was nailed, his brush curled round it, and the four pads underneath. An old drowsy mavis, in a wicker cage, was hung so as to feel the genial influence of the fire, and there he sat upon his perch winking and blinking in the fitful light, as if too comfortable to yield all

consciousness to sleep. A weather-beaten species of hat, denominated "a sou'-wester,' with a heavy ground-ash bludgeon, dangled upon a peg flanked by some gins and dogcouples. A long antiquated gun rested in a corner, and a coil of wire was suspended on a hook close to it. Some nets were thrown in a heap under the swaying pendulum of the clock, which tick-tocked in the piping tone of second infancy. The flowered dial was smoked and brown with age, and it all looked so old and dry that a spark might have spread upon its surface as on light and combustible tinder.

Through a crevice in the shutters the bright rays of the moon streamed; and a kitten that had been slumbering before the fire with her canine companions, rose from her posture of ease and began the sports of the night by chasing her tail in the pale but cheerful light.