liate
and reclaim her wayward swain.

The spells and love-charms, which are matters of sport to the other
domestics, are serious concerns with this love-stricken damsel. She is
continually trying her fortune in a variety of ways. I am told that
she has absolutely fasted for six Wednesdays and three Fridays
successively, having understood that it was a sovereign charm to
insure being married to one's liking within the year. She carries
about, also, a lock of her sweetheart's hair, and a riband he once
gave her, being a mode of producing constancy in a lover. She even
went so far as to try her fortune by the moon, which has always had
much to do with lovers' dreams and fancies. For this purpose, she went
out in the night of the full moon, knelt on a stone in the meadow, and
repeated the old traditional rhyme:

"All hail to thee, moon, all hail to thee;
I pray thee, good moon, now show to me
The youth who my future husband shall be."

When she came back to the house, she was faint and pale, and went
immediately to bed. The next morning she told the porter's wife that
she had seen some one close by the hedge in the meadow, which she was
sure was young Tibbets; at any rate, she had dreamt of him all night;
both of which, the old dame assured her, were most happy signs. It has
since turned out that the person in the meadow was old Christy, the
huntsman, who was walking his nightly rounds with the great
stag-hound; so that Phoebe's faith in the charm is completely shaken.

THE LIBRARY.

Yesterday the fair Julia made her first appearance downstairs since
her accident; and the sight of her spread an universal cheerfulness
through the household. She was extremely pale, however, and could not
walk without pain and difficulty. She was assisted, therefore, to a
sofa in the library, which is pleasant and retired, looking out among
trees; and so quiet, that the little birds come hopping upon the
windows, and peering curiously into the apartment. Here several of the
family gathered round, and devised means to amuse her, and make the
day pass pleasantly. Lady Lillycraft lamented the want of some new
novel to while away the time; and was almost in a pet, because the
"Author of Waverley" had not produced a work for the last three
months.

There was a motion made to call on the parson for some of his old
legends or ghost stories; but to this Lady Lillycraft objected, as
they were apt to give her the vapours. General