disgrace to the widow's
door?--The tithe! The widow's cow was driven and sold to pay a few
shillings; the drop of milk was no longer in the widow's house, and the
tender child that needed the nourishment, wasted away before the
widow's eyes, like snow from the ditch, and died: and fast the widow
followed the son of her heart and his fair-haired boy.

"And now, the home of an honest race is a heap of rubbish; and the
bleak wind whistles over the hearth where the warm welcome was ever
found; and the cold frog crouches under the ruins.

"These stones are from that desolate place, and the curse of God that
follows oppression is on them.--And let them be cast into the grave,
and they will lie with the weight of a mountain on the monster that is
buried for ever."

So saying, he lifted stone after stone, and flung them fiercely into
the pits then, after a moment's pause upon its verge, he suddenly
strode away with the same noiseless step that he had approached, and
left the scene in silence.

[1] The _cabhien_ was an ancient head-dress of gorgeous material, and
the name is applied in derision to a shabby hat.

[2] The crop being often valued in a _green state_ in Ireland, the
appraiser becomes a very obnoxious person.

[3] Botany Bay.

[4] The stump of pipe.

[5] Excepting.

[6] Keeners are persons who sing the Ulican, or death wail, round the
coffin of the deceased, and repeat the good deeds of the departed.

[7] I think Ware mentions an ancient crown being dug up at the "The
Devil's Bit."

[8] _Pull foot_ is a figurative expression to express making haste.

THE KNIGHTSBRIDGE MYSTERY

By CHARLES READE

I

In Charles the Second's day the "Swan" was denounced by the dramatists
as a house where unfaithful wives and mistresses met their gallants.

But in the next century, when John Clarke was the Freeholder, no
special imputation of that sort rested on it: it was a country inn with
large stables, horsed the Brentford coach, and entertained man and
beast on journeys long or short. It had also permanent visitors,
especially in summer; for it was near London, and yet a rural retreat;
meadows on each side, Hyde Park at back, Knightsbridge Green in front.

Amongst the permanent lodgers was Mr. Gardiner, a substantial man; and
Captain Cowen, a retired officer of moderate means, had lately taken
two rooms for himself and his son. Mr. Gardiner often joined the
company in the public room, but the Cow