Of all the arts and sciences,
'T is music surely takes the sway;
It has its own appliances
To melt the heart or make it gay.
To raise us,
Or plaze us,
There 's nothing with it can compare;
To make us bowld,
Or hot or cowld,
Just as suits the kind of air.

There 's not a woman, man, or child.
That has n't felt its powers too;
Don't deny it!--when you smiled
Your eyes confess'd, that so did you.

The very winds that sigh or roar;
The leaves that rustle, dry and sear;
The waves that beat upon the shore,--
They all are music to your ear.
It was of use
To Orpheus,--
He charmed the fishes in the say;
So everything
Alive can sing,--
The kettle even sings for tay!

There's not a woman, man, or child.
That hau n't felt its power too;
Don't deny it!--when you smiled
Your eyes confess'd, that so did you.

I have certainly since this period listened to more brilliant musical
performances, but for the extent of the audience, I do not think it was
possible to reap a more overwhelming harvest of applause. Indeed, the
old cook kept repeating stray fragments of the words to every air that
crossed her memory for the rest of the evening; and as for Kitty, I
intercepted more than one soft glance intended for Mister M'Keown as a
reward for his minstrelsy.

Darby, to do him justice, seemed fully sensible of his triumph, and
sat back in his chair and imbibed his liquor like a man who had won his
laurels, and needed no further efforts to maintain his eminent position
in life.

As the wintry wind moaned dismally without, and the leafless trees
shook and trembled with the cold blast, the party drew in closer to the
cheerful turf fire, with that sense of selfish delight that seems
to revel in the contrast of indoor comfort with the bleakness and
dreariness without.

"Well, Darby," said the butler, "you weren't far wrong when you took my
advice to stay here for the night; listen to how it 's blowing."

"That 's hail!" said the old cook, as the big drops came pattering down
the chimney, and hissed on the red embers as they fell. "It 's a cruel
night, glory be to God!" Here the old lady blessed herself,--a ceremony
which the others followed.

"For all that," said Darby