of a ship were visible, and here and there fishing boats dotted the unruffled surface of the clear, deep blue ocean. Flocks of seagulls wheeled their graceful flight, and dipped their snowy breasts, and, as the invalid continued to watch, her eyes filled unconsciously with tears, but not of sadness, and she wept ong and silently. Not a word was spoken; but the father rceived the emotion of his child ere she t felt it, and, suppressing his own, ded not to see the effects of her ss and fading health. He forced a ile upon his careworn features, and strained eerfulness in his voice ill according with elings at his heart. ne, Grace," said he, endeavouring to en's attention from her absorbing sing one of your cheerful songs. quite as musical as in THE ENGLISH FIRESIDE. T CHAPTER I. "He that stands upon a slippery place, "THE sun is up and 'tis a morn of May," a bright, laughing, merry morn. There was music on every bough and twig. Bees and butterflies sucked and sipped the early fresh-born flowers of the spring. The soaring pinioned lark trilled his ringing notes to heaven's ethereal vault, and then, stooping from his dizzy height, dropped like an arrow to his mate in her grassy nest. Nature-godlike nature-revelled in her beauty! The sun-lit, flashing stream was her mirror. Joy and gladness were VOL. II. B her handmaids. The heralds of summer trod in their footsteps, and, as they tripped their way through flowery meads and mossy dells, daisies, primroses, and buttercups opened their maiden blossoms to mark the path they took. The thrifty ant left her earthy home, and again sought the replenishment of her store. Amorous grasshoppers chirped their love ditties, and even that dull laggard, the spotted toad, roused from his long, long sleep, croaked in doleful cadence his heartfelt satisfaction. Not a creature, not a thing-not even the meanest wild flower that grew unnoticed and uncared for-but looked the very type of unalloyed, unqualified happiness. On a beetling cliff, rearing its giant crest some hundreds of feet above the dashing waves at its base, the invalid Ellen, accompanied by Grace and her father, was sitting gazing upon the exquisite beauties of the scene. Far, far at sea the bleached sails of a ship were visible, and here and there fishing boats dotted the unruffled surface of the clear, deep blue ocean. Flocks of seagulls wheeled their graceful flight, and dipped their snowy breasts, and, as the invalid continued to watch, her eyes filled unconsciously with tears, but not of sadness, and she wept long and silently. Not a word was spoken; but the father perceived the emotion of his child ere she almost felt it, and, suppressing his own, pretended not to to see the effects of her weakness and fading health. He forced a smile upon his careworn features, and strained a cheerfulness in his voice ill according with the feelings at his heart. "Come, Grace," said he, endeavouring to draw Ellen's attention from her absorbing thoughts, "sing one of your cheerful songs. It will sound here quite as musical as in the fields and woods at home." |