n succeeded,
and once more the' eye was gladdened with the bearded grain, waving in
golden splendour in the breeze;--again the luscious fruits are tempting
one to pluck; and soon again the year,--weary with its labors, prepares
to sleep, and desolation reigns.

'Tis Sunday morning, and the sun looks down through murky mists;--the
ground is slightly hardened with the nipping frost; here and there some
hardy flower endeavours to look gay:--the tolling bell rings out its
morning call, and straggling groups wend their way to worship in the
village church. But on the hill, which rises high above, was stood a man
in deep and earnest thought. One could scarcely have believed that the
pale, aged looking man, who dressed in sombre black was standing and
looking over the quiet scene, was the stalwart farmer, who just one year
before was holding converse with old Tommy;--but he begins to speak.

"Its just twelve months to day," he said, "sin aw wor talking to him o'
this varry spot, an nah he's gooan, an awm left to attend his funeral:
ther's nowt to feel sorry for 'at aw know on, but when an owd face is
noa mooar, 'at one's been used to see--it tells a tale 'at's easy
understood;--it leaves a gap i'th' world 'at's never shut--it bids us to
prepare an reckon up awr life to see if all's as we could like it to
be,--an' use what time's left to square accounts,--soa's when we're
called to 'liver up, we may be ready. Jenny wor ready, an soa wor Tommy.
It isn't ivery man yo meet i'th world 'at's honest."

It Mud ha' been War.

If iver onybody had th' luck to get off th' wrang side o'th' bed ivery
mornin, an' to allus be gettin into scrapes all th' day long, it 'wor
Jack throo' th' Jumpels. It seemed as if some evil genius wor allus
abaat makkin spooart on him. If he gate mezzured for a suit o' clooas,
th' tailor wor sure to tak th' length ov his coit sleeves for his
britches slops, or else mak 'em after another mezzur altogether; awther
soa mich too big wol he luk'd like a wanderin bedtick seekin th' flocks,
or else soa mich too little wol he used to send his arm's an' legs soa
far throo, till yo'd fancy he'd niver be able to get 'em back. But wi'
all his bad luck, an' i' spite o' all th' scrapes he gate into, he wor a
varry gooid-hearted chap, an' iverybody 'at knew him gave him a gooid
word. He went to see a hont o' his one day, an' he'd donned his best
duds, an' he couldn't help thinkin as he wor gooin whether be should be