ng."

Little Bell holds an armful of lilacs against her bosom; and, with her eyes
running over with childish merriment, trips toward the house; but two arms
stretching out from the vines catch her. She utters a pretty scream, and
then sits quietly on Walters' knee. He kisses her laughingly; but his face
grows serious as his eyes fall on a string of almond-shaped pearls which
encircle the child's delicate neck; on the innocent white bosom lies a

[Illustration: Cross]

It is DAISY'S NECKLACE; that is WHAT CAME OF IT; and here, gentle reader,
is

THE END OF THE CHAIN.

EPILOGUE.

DON SEBASTIAN.--_You have no plot._

FABRICIO.--_But such characters! and every one is as true
as truth: copied right off from nature._

DON SEBASTIAN.--_Badly done, sir Poet._

LOPE DE VEGA.

EPILOGUE.

"What a mournful glory falls upon the October woods! It seems as if a
broken rain-bow were strained through a sieve of gray clouds, and sprinkled
over the crisp leaves. Ochre, vermillion, dappled russet, and all rare
tintings! And then the wind that rushes so gloriously through the
woodlands, bearing with it a rich, earthy smell, and scattering the purple
wealth, the hoarded gold of the autumnal days! Pleasant Forest, with your
oaken harps! Pleasant little Town, lying quietly in sunshine and
moonlight--how sad I was to leave ye! Pleasant River, that stealest up from
the sea, past the fort and into the old weather-beaten seaport
town--crawling lazily among the rotting piers of deserted wharves, then
gliding off through the shaky bridge, squirming and curveting into a world
of greenery, like a great serpent with an emerald back! And the girls!
Village belles, rustic flirts--eyes, lips, shady curls, white hands, little
feet, enchanting pouts--ah, me!

"Pleasant it was when woods were green,
And winds were soft and low--"

This rhapsodical soliloquy was interrupted one fine October morning, two
days after my return from the sea-side, by a voice there was no mistaking.
It was Barescythe, who startled Mrs. Muggins with the following pertinent
inquiry:

"Prolific producer of sea-prodigies, is Ralph at home?"

I could not see Mrs. Muggins' face, for that good soul was standing at the
foot of the stairs; but I knew her feelings were injured, and I hastened
out of my room to prevent any verbal combat that might ensue.

MRS. MUGGINS, (_after a long silen