st pieces of
poetry, all about the pleasures of melancholy, and such subjects, that
make me cry so, you can't think. I wish he would publish. I think he
has some things as sweet as any thing of Moore or Lord Byron.

"He fell into very ill health some time ago, and was advised to go to
the continent; and I gave him no peace until he went, and promised to
take care of his two boys until he returned.

"He was gone for above a year, and was quite restored. When he came
back, he sent me the tale I'm going to show you.--Oh, here it is!"
said she, as the page put in her hands a beautiful box of satinwood.
She unlocked it, and from among several parcels of notes on embossed
paper, cards of charades, and copies of verses, she drew out a crimson
velvet case, that smelt very much of perfumes. From this she took a
manuscript, daintily written on gilt-edged vellum paper, and stitched
a light blue riband. This she handed to the captain, who read the
following tale, which I have procured for the entertainment of the
reader.

ANNETTE DELARBRE.

The soldier frae the war returns,
And the merchant from the main,
But I hae parted with my love,
And ne'er to meet again,
My dear.
And ne'er to meet again.
When day is gone, and night is come,
And a' are boun to sleep,
I think on them that's far awa
The lee-lang night, and weep,
My dear,
The lee-lang night, and weep.

--_Old Scotch Ballad_.

In the course of a tour that I once made in Lower Normandy, I remained
for a day or two at the old town of Honfleur, which stands near the
mouth of the Seine. It was the time of a fete, and all the world was
thronging in the evening to dance at the fair, held before the chapel
of Our Lady of Grace. As I like all kinds of innocent merry-making, I
joined the throng.

The chapel is situated at the top of a high hill, or promontory, from
whence its bell may be heard at a distance by the mariner at night. It
is said to have given the name to the port of Havre-de-Grace, which
lies directly opposite, on the other side of the Seine. The road up to
the chapel went in a zigzag course, along the brow of the steep coast;
it was shaded by trees, from between which I had beautiful peeps at
the ancient towers of Honfleur below, the varied scenery of the
opposite shore, the white buildings of Havre in the distance, and the
wide sea beyond. The road was enlivened by groups of peasant girls, in
thei